Too Happy

by Tor

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glumburger Pushing itself at an almost glacial pace, the slowcore music style combined with a miserable deadpan charisma makes for an incredible listen. It almost seems like rambling at times, but it's completely engrossing. Easily one of my favourite releases of all time, no doubt about it. Favorite track: I'm A Goth.
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Beltsander 01:54
Hey man, How's Sarsaparilla? I'm so desperate for a haircut Never sing songs about coffee and cigarettes they just sound rubbish. Attempts to tape my subconscious mind in between seasons It’s my raison d'etreon Dodecahedrons I can take them or leave them Holiday and the cats back No we've already done that I hate those rhymes The glass is half full I can’t even see the fucking glass Maybe I need to change my contact lens prescription But if I had to be a tool I'd be a belt sander I'd be a belt sander for you.
Boring 03:17
I'll be with the rest of beardy cunts I suppose Brimming with unspent sperm I don't care, I don't care, I don't care He's a flicky haired ponce but it’s got nothing to do with me Fizzled out and flushed away Thugs beat me with a toaster because I'm gay Insert crumpet and waffle based puns here I don't normally have my first emotion until around 10:30 But I was ready for a change My my my what a wonderful smile My my my my my what a wonderful smile I am the ring throwing, mug throwing, shape throwing fucking bastard. At the bottom of the sea. Where the sediment should be. You want to see a grown man cry Well so do I But we can't both go first
I'm A Goth 06:07
You're back in the room We captured faces after 1 to 2 to 3 glasses of wine Everyone looks happier Except the guy on the left He looks like he's ready to kill himself Bashing my head against the rocks Last night I was awake when I should have been asleep thinking about how much I couldn't stand you I'm a goth I'm a goth I'm a goth Look at my sad little face I was lining up with the rest of the mugs Waiting for my paltry hand out But they only had chicken left Constantly cantankerously cunting up the place Like a dead fish floating in my brain I was getting sick from the ups and down Running my taps till they ran completely cold I couldn't quite find my rhythm I couldn't quite find my rhythm I couldn't quite find my Like the worst episode of Star Trek you ever saw A hate filled bastard still hungry for more I hate this shirt, it’s too thin I can't find the ifs and buts but when I do I’ll send them in I've been filling myself up on frangipane creams If I had something to say I'd have said it by now Did you want to see my prototype face? Aloe vera, 'ello steve I couldn't quite find my rhythm I couldn't quite find my rhythm I couldn't quite find I don't care about the coffee shop poets Whether they did or did not already know it But I've been sold so many dodgy power tools I'm with Shatner Working out my instincts I suppose.
Knuckle down Have another drink and embrace the blackness Today I'm gonna stimulate my face off Why? And the car smells when the engine’s cold In the corner Just a sea of blackness and me If you’re wondering how many more days I'm gonna keep this half a wispa Well keep wondering The VHS cut for the real fans Furiously yours ... Nothing in the cupboards Nothing for breakfast Sleep deprived More or less for no reason Last song of the week About bloody time Tired of trying To consistently rhyme Words that don't With the let’s cook fruit food factory There isn't even any heat It’s just mincing said the bishop to the butcher If you can't stomach it now Try waking up looking at her Holiday and the cat's back To watch TV And fill up on Dreamies Was this review helpful to you? YES? NO? Educational? Forget it.
Sitcom Wives 04:49
Sitcom wives Sitcom wives Stirring the loins of men everywhere I'm stirred right up Like an Ovaltine cup Sleep is for sheep Just to give them something to do My driving's worse Slow and inefficient We'll drive real slow Geronimo All that socialising killed it for me Lost it Blank in the brain every thought spent on someone else Not sure if it’s a waste Just spent that's all Up to my waist The morphine and the sharks I was the dead fish on the harbour Times got worse But I felt good though My face in the gravel and sand Even the water's just foam Too much science fiction in my brain and chlorine in my eyes Poolside And I'm fried Like my bacon like my eggs I'm toast Like my toast I've seen spectacles
We done as the instructions stated Chopped into small pieces etc But the chopper would not spin Both me and my partner had knives and were chopping the pieces smaller and smaller But we ended up using the food processor My 5 year old daughter bought this with her birthday money It can't even blend a soft banana We finally finished And I cleaned up the mess Bring on the rain I've got nothing too lose Sheaths of Gortex line my waterproof shoes I've got the fixing to fix inept DJ blues As I watch the cars from my kitchen Me and my sophisticated brain We stay the same You're still the chocolate santa that never got eaten That condescending prick Draw me a line around all the things I should give a fuck about I'm miles out Mutant pig with a human face and a penis grown on it's forehead Caught on camera Watch out Beadle’s about I've got goggles that'll get you seeing dinosaurs For novelty I won first place But I kept dribbling down my front of my jumper A gangling white pile of floured bones Show me the place where the spiders go Sell my body to the sea I don't understand what the point of this is It doesn’t make any sense. Some of the words aren't even real words Or at least not used in the correct context It’s like you’re reading it off the back of a cereal packet You're having a laugh aren’t you I'm fucking trying You swear too much You swear too much Steve Lamac will never play you if you do It doesn’t count We cant all be Metal Hammer music magazine material Welcome bullshit corner I was I was doing my patio at the weekend But no one seems that interested in that I can't say I blame them But it’s some bloody nice block paving
Whale 05:00
Whoops, I've stepped on a frazel Happy Meal with a side order of fetish porn Sleaze McBurger McChildren see McPorn at McDs McFilters can't stop McFetish fucking filth Have you any idea what time it is? None. If he knew I was a girl would it really make a difference My head don't send me no candles no more Scrambled egg all over the floor No caffeine, no booze and no salt The pressure's too high, it’s got to come down But what's wrong with a few red blood cells rushing around Leather bullshit But how long did they spend painting on your tits It's just window dressing I suppose But what windows Two pounds of chicken in half a pound skin Tuck it in? Don't tuck it in? Should be easy enough All the fluid I've drunk Bury his bones and harvest his meat We've got hungry inuits to feed


released May 25, 2018

Recorded by Andy Ramsay
Mixed by Tim Cedar (except 4 and 5)
Mastered by Brad Boatright
Design by Pat Dighton


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Truthseeker Music Falmouth, UK

Record label based in the UK. Owned and run by Alex, Phill and Stephen.

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