wound

by talk zack talk

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about

magnetic poetry kit verse, from the original cd back cover:

what would those there say
to
you and I
tongues smeared with the
think of lovely moments
I like her and she, me
we sweat beneath dressy language
a delicate gift for two friends

credits

released September 9, 1996

personnel:

e. carter: vox, ensoniq VFX, esi32, alesis HR16, guitars, winds, percussion, melodica, at&t globalyst 130, Emagic Logic 1.0
errol siegel: guitars, hair, booking, ass kicking
lee abramson: bass, hair goo, medical testing, butane torch, stir frys
matthew miller: drums
mark lint: vox, classical guitar on "undershirt"
chris g siegel: glamour

"undershirt" by Mark Lint

cat scan of Edison's head: UMichigan Medical Center

cover design: Sally Casper
engineering: e & e at The Austin Highlands, on original ADAT

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

edison carter Texas

making the rockouts and taking kick ass photos so you don't have to

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Track Name: munch
map of my grapefruit skull; a zillion
empty honeycomb bits
without any milk

please take a bite and put me on your spoon

hot sauce in my veins a tease
burrito blast into my bowels
please take a bite and put me on your tongue

ginger snaps against my cheek
make me forget my vanilla wafer woman
if only time would make the taste go away
there'd be no oatmeal raisin in my bed today

mr. hamilton beach; blend my smoothie shake
a grind and bump and frappe and thicken law
please suck me inside of your crazy straw
Track Name: wound
vapors rise from molten brow
creeping out of stymied pores
would that I had an outlet
for my aerosol breath
no, it's got to stay inside
all tight and neatly wound
in a little town of people built of
barking threats and splintery sound

see how it's easy it's to smell
what I've carried all along
cloying taffy spirit round my gut
asthmatic breath
yes, it's got to stay inside
all tight and neatly wound
where the noosing coils glisten
in a seas of faces always frowned
Track Name: pop star quick
you lack a certain finesse
that comes to all those people
who don't just get lucky

you wear a sparkly old dress
from some mommy's prom with
fuck-me heels and 'first love' gloss

make me a pop star quick
make me a pop star fleeting
make me a something special
make me an unplugged special

Or you've got a grunge king's wheeze
haircut and dopey grin on
for the Teen Beat special

well, you've got some begging to please you
with spare time to pick out a spouse
from Baywatch, on tv

i'll grimace a lot and yell "everyone this is my pain"
and go double-platinum and deny wanting my fame