Taro Sound

by Quasar Wut-Wut

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02:24
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03:20
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03:34
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03:26
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about

Legends abound surrounding the making of QWW's first Chicago creation. Some say it took four years because the band is “obsessive”. Others say it took four years because the band is “lazy”. Still others speculate each member took a year off to go shopping. As with most legends, there's a little truth to All of them. Taro Sound : Mysterious. Seductive. Time-honed. And then time-honed again.

credits

released October 1, 2004

Originally released on Glorious Noise Records, sold in physical format at www.CDBaby.com/quasarwutwut.

All tracks recorded at Brent, Matt & Jordan’s apartment, Chicago, IL, with additional recording for 4, 8, 11, 14 at Rax Trax Studios, Chicago, IL

Produced, engineered and mixed by QWW except for 5, 6, 8, 13 – recorded and mixed by Colonel Josh Shapera, and 1, 7, 9, 11, 14 co-mixed by QWW and the Colonel

Mastered by Dan Stout at Colossal Mastering, Chicago, IL

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about

Quasar Wut-Wut Chicago, Illinois

Considered the finest rock band ever to have formed in Belleville, Michigan, Quasar Wut-Wut has been "delivering" since 1990. After destroying Detroit for years we relocated to Chicago in 1999 and have since refused to leave. Five full-lengths in the can with a new one (and a DVD) on the way, QWW just can't take the hint that no one wants them. We don't mind, we like us just the way we are. ... more

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Track Name: China Fibberous
[instrumental]
Track Name: The Tramps of Taro Sound
The Tramps of Taro Sound Sit and watch the wind Running ships aground.
They give no warning cries, But they charge no fare So, I guess it’s alright.

Living off the spoils of the war, I sold my wife and children For a trench along the shore.
As the ships go down, No one talks about The other side of town...

They’re handing trophies out to all young things Who can distract their country for the King, And keep the vultures occupied.

Over in the reservoir Another debutante Is readied for his grand departure.
The Elders of the Last Regime Watch from the wings And make sure that every exit’s covered.

Then they fill him with slaughterhouse gin And forty counts of brine In memory of the Wheezing Ulcers.
As he sails into the sound, There are no holidays On the other side of town...

After we’ve had our fun And the spoils are long gone, Can’t shake the phlegm of paranoia.
The wind rails and screams As we try to keep our ship Together at the seams.

But it soon disintegrates And we see their throbbing eyes Watching from the banks.
They gave no warning cries, But they charged no fare - So, I guess it’s alright
Track Name: Echolalia
Echolalia,
When will you come
Riding high with wings devised from eagle meat?

All the time we’ve spent
Awaiting your descent
Building empires, burning empires down again.

Everything we’ve wasted,
You’re worth all of this.

Echolalia,
Come down from the sky.
We promise not cage you, break you or tame you when you arrive.

There is nothing now at last,
But your shrine is still intact.

Everything we’ve wasted,
You’re worth all of this.

Echolalia,
You’ve been silent for so long...
Track Name: Enola Gay
She’s got graves for every hunchback in town
Who would offer their humps up to the Holy of Holies. Now, you may think that you’re safe in the crowd -
How fast can you run from the galloping Furies?

I’ve seen her waltzing through the war-tattered skies, Possessed by the drums of the Sanctum Sanctorum.
But when I gaze into those black-market eyes
It makes me wanna give it all up.

I’m okay, I’ve got my head on the ropes now
I’m just a quarter sort of a dime.
And I’m at my knees to the tortuous tease
Thinking it’s time to slow down.
But the statute she reads states that these tricks up my sleeves
Are gonna chew off my arm somehow.

Sr. Androgenous is spindling over
Too brief a description of the sexual organs.
In my confusion I have found my way
To the alter where they play tempestuous games:

I see my darling with her hair up in tangles
Fixing her men with fatal doses and damsels.
And when I gaze into those black-market eyes
It makes me wanna give it all up

I’m okay, I’ve got my head on the ropes now
I’m just a quarter sort of a dime.
And I’m at my knees to the tortuous tease
Thinking it’s time to slow down.

But the statute she reads states that these tricks up my sleeves
Are gonna chew off my arm somehow.

All I wanted was to hold you,
And I’ve waited so long for the day
When I’ll be called into your pale room
Oh, my darling Enola Gay.
Track Name: Pulling Yarns
The chosen ones
With the punctured lungs,
And all the rest
With deflating breasts
After long and dull debate
Decided that it would be best
To scatter ounces for the feast
And hope these ailments would cease.

Hey, pulling yarns from the stockings of the sky...

Lucy and her next of kin
Sacrificed the Hoopty Twins
To the god of halibut and fins,
But when the stench took to the winds
The styes marched onward singing hymns
That sounded more like battle cries.

Hey, pulling yarns from the stockings of the sky...

The Shock Board of Glamour-
They struck the truth down with their hammers
Till skies turned green.

Organ donors please beware
That the goings-on going on here
Are triple threat to the fancy fare
Who live each day with the lasting fear
That one day when they’re dying they will realize that they’ve missed it all.

Hey, pulling yarns from the stockings of the sky...
Track Name: Beaver Fever
Trippin’ my way to the places and the faces I meet
Tryin’ to beat the heat with everything
The crazy loves the crazy lies
They fall by the way side but stuck in my lifeline
Crampin’ my bones
Oh, Virginia won't you tell me what you've got in your bag of tricks to fix this

Sometimes I feel I'm meant to put my hands into something I can't see in
hope that it might be
The cast of that mold
Oh, Trisha won't you sign my arm and tell me you love me,
I'm broken

What can I do, I'm on the outside
Working my way back to you, babe
A bird on my ear is whistling my tune,
I've got to sing along
Oh, Anna baby

I'm going down the river in my four-door canoe
Both the wings fall off
What can I do?
How many pancakes does it take to shingle a doghouse? None ?./';./!!#!
Snakes don't have armpits
Track Name: Stiletto
"Come here lover dear,
Tell me what it is you hear
Just beyond this here door there's something stirring."

"I can't hear a thing.
I may be blind but I can see
Even if someone was here why would they harm me?"

"Come on lover lost
Can't you see how much it's cost.
For these sins you deny may cause you to waltz."

"Please don't harm my baby.
She's only weak, believe me!
State it loud, please come clean.
Don't please me just to please me.
I love you must stop lying.
You'll go to hell, you're dying!"
I watch her cough up her heart.
It falls to the ground, it melts apart
And as I try to regain
The pieces that remain between the grains
I feel there's distance in my blood
Is boiling, God I'm freezing.
I feel there's ice between the cracks
It's expanding, God I'm freezing.

"Hello, mother dear,
Yes, it's good to know you're near.
But your stifling grasp - it won't change me.

Greetings father queen,
Yes, I feel you close to me.
I know you're within reach,
But I can't hear you speak."

"Please don't harm my baby,
Master, what do you want from me?"
"There's just one thing, my son
Would you trade your life for the one you've loved?"
"I'm no Moses, why test me?"
"This is for the count, my son, I'm waiting."
"No - but you wouldn't want me.
My joints are iced
My veins are empty."

I look down to find
Some angel's knife stuck in my side.
And in the sand a footprinted path,
But there's only one set of tracks.

He didn't carry me!
That's what I always feared.
Farewell father queen.
Yes, I feel you close to me.
I know you're within reach,
But I can't hear you speak.

Goodbye, mother dear,
It's so good to know you're near
But your stifling grasp - it couldn't save me.
Track Name: Ass Kissin' Lips
Sometime in May the Harlequin came
From under the axles of some parade.

His pockets clinked with many things
That could make one a virgin again.

Isn’t it fine? Swing a dead monkey
From a vine...

“Such a lovely town
They’ve all got new brown
Shingles on their rooftops,
And the view of the sewer gates is something quite serene
From the clotheslines where they hang their little dreams...”

He lurches into the local chapter of B-movie stuntmen Who’ve retired after showing off their favorite injuries;
Twelve-sixteenths are now amputees.

The one with scurvy gums and rubber nose plugs is screaming like a camel,
“Watch me bust up the scene
With lungs of kerosene
and blow myself halfway to Kingdom Come!”

How could He have known the forests of the East
Were full of their tinlegs and philacteries
When the pale ones gathered alms
From the charity of His loaded pockets?

La-Dee-Da, it’s dirt for dinner again,
While the others are chewing on the Cud of the Land...

All the cowboys in the county drug store whistle as he walks in,
But the corrugated air
Reveals there’s something hiding there
Behind the scratching of the runts and stupid grins.

The Stranger feigns a smile
And asks the way to the complimentary booze aisle, When some wino at the door
Calls across the floor,
“Look at His spurs the size of God’s Great Tooth!”

La-Dee-Da, it’s dirt for dinner again,
While the others are chewing on the Cud of the Land...

His breath smelled of brandy
And peppermint candy
That He always kept close at hand.
He walked like His legs were made out of kegs,
And He spoke with a very strange rhythm...

La-Da Da-Da Da Da
Before the fainting Mr. Greeze
Performs his famous surgeries -
Ladies in the front row all remove their hats.

They curse like whales
And spend time spitting gales
Because the carelessness of tongue extensions in this day and age
Are such a heavy burden on the brain.

Call the Doctors of the Gallows
They’ll take the blame for everything that’s gone alright Since the Censor’s hairy sight
Proclaimed it the miracle they promised it would be.

Now promises are all that they could need.
Track Name: Oh My Dear
Hey my Dear, don’t you cry for me
I was only using you like you were using me
Using me, like a puppet uses strings
Pull your hand and make me sing it’s still my favorite thing
Take it all, take everything, take it and go away
You were here and planting seeds and I’m still pulling weeds

And into the ocean lies, through your smoky eyes
A penny thought to be free
Because you don’t see what I feel
And everything comes around again
On a second flight through your satin light
You pin your name on my sleeve
And now we both know they’ll never be a better way to be

Velvet lips and fingertips floating on the waves
Diamond-edged impressions of intentions that were made All the days gone by I still sit and think of you

And Honey your weary eyes are showing through your disguise
A penny thought to be free
Because you don’t see what I feel
And everything comes around again
On a second flight through your satin light
You pin your name on my sleeve
And now we both know they’ll never be a better way to be

Hey my dear, don’t you cry for me
I was only using you like you were using me
Track Name: The Carrion-Eaters' Lullaby
[instrumental]
Track Name: Thankful Hank & the Guzzard
Thankful Hank and the Guzzard crank
The handles of a great machine.

It works with the force of a strung out horse;
They’re balding from the heat of the thing.

An orphan in pearls brought them into the world,
And since then they’ve been up on that hill.

They heave and sway as they crank away
For dimes at a time lost in their minds...

The fear-abiding citizens found it wild and absurd,
So they gathered their case against old Hank and the Guzzard:

“These men and their machine are like a wooden spleen,
And they keep us up all night with their banging and their clanging.”

The mob heaved and swayed and the scheme was laid.
So they marched up the hill and moved in for the kill...

When they got home to their beds there claim this plague of dread
That something was wrong, but it could wait till the dawn.

But the morning never came; the sun was delayed...
Forever the dark sky and no one knew why -

Thankful Hank and the Guzzard crank
The handles of a great machine.
Track Name: Zug Island: Better than Gary
[instrumental]
Track Name: March of the Zug
There’s a slow moving train
Rolling through the rain,
And a man with a hammer
Who is writhing around.

A certain school of thieves
Are watching from the trees.
They’re counting their splinters
Before they leap to the ground.

The sun’s dying rays
Ripping through the haze
Have betrayed the Technicolor
Madness in their eyes...

The Easy Street Sons of Kings
Are fucking with everything,
Now Spoonboy the Madpisser
Has escaped into the night.

The Sultans of the Swine
Are turning fish into wine.
They whisper their mantra
to the gods of the Right.

The moon’s lunar phase
Lends venom to the craze
That detonates like tidal waves
Tearing through their minds...

The bitches of the drain
Are fiending for the rain
That just cripples up their minds
With its spastic display.

An accessory to their trade
Poor Old Phineas Gage
Pleads to keep his faculties,
But is destined to fail.

The science of the sane
Has crumbled from the strain
Of trying to find a back door
From this landscape of Hell.
Track Name: Little Crimes
The rhymes in the trees
Are old and diseased,
But, oh, they sound so pretty to me.

The children wait in line
With jars of alkaline
To place at the feet of the Glorious Spine.

All the little crimes
That brighten their lives
Made them dance
Like widows against
An iridescent sky
Where the oceans collide
And shower the land
With fire again

The minions of the wind
Cough and spin,
Rattle the cages of the invalids.

The convalescing rhymes
Embalm their own minds
And take to the waves of an infinite sea.

All the little crimes that brighten their lives
Made them dance like widows against
An iridescent sky where the oceans collide
And shower the land with fire again.