Pack every bag I can carryHop into the rental, gotta catch that ferryI can make it just barelyAccounted for the weather, but traffic could get hairyI'm island-bound, gotta get over the Wrong Island soundI'm wilin' out, I've been stuck on 95 for a while now
"He finally pulled it off," they'll all agree in chorusPouring honest astonishment out, palms against their foreheadsWith a small amount of avarice and retroactive encouragement"You really shouldn't have," he'll say while he embellishes"We never doubted him," they'll all believe in unisonHaters get a tunin' up or tossed into the loony bin"I feel empowered," one'll say to his conducive friendThey'll not their heads and wring their hands like they were ruminating
Sorry not sorry, we only reserve parties of six or more
You can chill at the bar or wait on the porch or the lawn
You'll get a text when your group can be sat
Or hit up Sid and get your party basil cucumber smashed
See, this is a million dollar business that makes it's money in three months
The fish and chips are coming, no such thing as a free lunch
Unless you complain enough; okay, I just ate the cost
Lackluster service? Blame the boss
Table from hell sayin' their steak isn't wellIt's basically ash, whatever, you can save it for Yelp
The hook is pretty simplistic, but it serves its purpose well enough. As much as I enjoyed the first verse, the second verse is a lot crazier lyrically.Dusty had a sense of loyalty that I admiredHe hooked up his friend with a boy who he desired‘Cause they made a good fit and he thought they deserved itOr maybe Dusty never really felt like he was worth itSee, he made a lot of dollars, but he couldn’t find his pathThe water locked wanderer kinda felt trappedIn bed with his shoes on, laid out on his backLike, “Quiet! Shh! I need to take a nap”
That big old heart of his didn’t wanna quitIt felt trapped, a bit like Dusty didSo it snapped some ribs back and ripped through the fleshDropped a fat sack of yip in his chestStitched him up, threw the kicks on freshAnd headed into town so it could paint the city red
If a cell phone tower on an island fallsCan’t nobody make the callDid it ever really happen at all?
This song also has a theme of paranoia in regards to being spied on. That line about getting the chip beneath the skin to talk back was dope. I think there’s definitely some validity to the general sentiment of the song, which is that phones and social media cause a lot of the most negative emotions we feel.
We're happy with detachment for a moment
And everyone's relaxed enough to notice
The enchantment of our understated cumulative wholeness
A friend without a profile, a web without a modem
But then the tower pulls itself up by the motors
And brushes the the bluff crumbs from its unworthy shoulders
And we all resume our voluntary torment
Hurry, drown your fuckin' phone like an informant
It’s like getting your hands on full blown scubaGear after years of using shitty broken snorkel tubesWell, I guess it all depends on your flow; it's trueThat either option gives a guy a pretty good ocean cruiseAnd hell, if you can struggle throughWith Pokemon bandaids on your aching, weeping open woundsAnd still pull that off I guess I'd vote for you tooMost improved
The beat here kinda sounds like something that’d be in an 80s Pop song. Not one of those loud, synth-heavy songs though. It’d be something smoother, like Michael Jackson’s Human Nature. Anyway, the hook isn’t really anything special to me, but it serves its purpose well enough. The verses themselves are the selling point of this track to me. The beat is definitely good, but it’s not one of my favorites on the album. Overall I think it’s a dope track, just not one of my favorites. The following track is Gimme What I Need. I really love the way Headtrip was flowing here.
It goes, “Make money-money, make money-money”The way the beat kinda evolves during the hook sounds really awesome. I actually think this song has one of the best hooks on the album to be honest. There’s a remix of this song at the very end of the album produced by Blockhead, and it’s very good. I genuinely can’t decide which version I prefer. I like them both so much that I just kept both of them in my library. I will say that the Blockhead version definitely sounds more detailed. There’s a lot going on in that beat. Headtrip is basically rapping about being an addict. At least, I think that’s what he’s rapping about. There might be some deeper level that I’m not really reaching into yet, but on the surface it’s about addiction.
Wake up every mornin’ and perform, shit it takes somethin’ from ya
Goes, “Fake money-money” Fate funny, huh?
Waitin’ for the punch; yeah, there’s bounty for patient, so they told me
Hold weights like a dumbbell pressure, go ape for the numb,
None lesser than a nom nom nibbler ’til the bait looks better every week
Nah don’t measure it, I’ll pay for what I get; Wait, stay and have a bit
Alcohol and bogies, a little bit o’ weed.Feed me, gimme that, gimme what I needIt takes a lot o’ fuel to run this rusted out machineGimme what I, gimme what I, gimme what I needAdderall and cocaine, Ritalin and speedFeed me, please, gimme what I needI'm takin' what it's takin' me to get me through the week, I'm weakGimme what I need or I'ma freak, I'm a fiend
This is not my hallucinationThis not my beautiful poemI am just an intruderAn alien who meandered into a funeral homeThe crowd, uncanny; the tomb, enclosedI found my family, confused, reposedThey looked right past me, through my skullOf course, it was my tomb all along
Even though I don’t know exactly what he was trying to communicate, I think the closing lines about being a puddle were really cool. This song is kinda short, and it just consists of one verse with no hook or bridge or anything like that. I don’t even really care though. The writing is very cool, and I love the dreamy production. The song is dope as hell. The penultimate track is entitled Celestial Mourning. The production here is once again pretty dreamy, and relatively downtempo. I really like Headtrip’s kind of monotone, relaxed delivery here. The song definitely feels darker than most of the other tracks, especially the ones at the beginning of the album. The writing here is really goddamn awesome to me too.The Big Dipper’s handle reaches toward the North StarMy inner compass has been disoriented so farI like to visit the waves and ride their temperament to skeletonsThen melt into the shore, I’ve never felt this way beforeTo think I dealt with a divorce then see my shelter as a hostel dormitoryGot me awful claustrophobic under open skiesAnd an ocean sighing, and a cold wind crying from the north
A group hallucination, a mass mirage, a mutual vision, a falsehood or a pristine riptideFull of sirens with an undeniable vibrance that disguises the tideI followed this song to its grave, the site was already madeI stopped to calculate the shape and size and came to find in terror it was mine all alongI made my bed in the moss, I laid for centuries while longing for process to stopWhile also reaping its benefits; my resentment was necessary but equally tepidI knew my sentence was temporary, the dream of the wind fishA scene from a tragedy or a comedy; I cannot accept this dream as imaginary
I battle my fantasies, break bread with my nightmaresI like to stare god in my eyes, I know I’m right herePioneer of my own mind folds, I’m tired, oldAnd reborn daily, it’s draining
They say this solar system spins in a massive discOf concentrated systems that spin in the vast abyssForming a cluster, a galaxyWhich travels through this universe haphazardlyPerhaps it's real, perhaps it all imaginaryAnd I’m no astronomer, but I can see beyond the atmosphereAnd humbly ponder the gravity of my passions hereKiss the flask on the bluffs, off balance, cheersI’m waiting for the canopy to tearI watch my stubborn feet waltz along the beachAs if completely disconnected from my being, it’s freeingMy tongue is the wind's, my blood is the sea'sThis island is a dream that does not belong to me