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ALL IMPORTANT ARTISTS

by J.W. Schuller

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    CD artwork and sloppily handwritten lyric booklet included (pdf).
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1.
all important artists have a defect in their heart or in their head or so it’s said paranoia or obsession, egomania, and feelings of dread depressed in bed van gogh’s absinthe and his missing ear ernest shed his macho tears in beer charlie parker shot his horse and auden was so queer you’ve gotta suffer, suffer, suffer for your art all important art is hard it must be complicated to conceive or perceive no one wants to buy a canvas from a fat man living lavishly or so it seems michelangelo upon his back basquiat in his cold water flat nick drake never made a pound ‘til in his grave he sat you’ve gotta suffer, suffer, suffer for your art suffer, suffer, suffer, suffer, suffer, suffer, suffer, suffer suffer, suffer, suffer, suffer, suffer for your art all important artists must be very difficult to be around or so it’s found nice guys always finish last and perfect bastards always live it down to take the crown pollock and his infantile rants frank lloyd wright couldn’t keep it in his pants picasso was an a$$hole with an ego big as france you’ve gotta suffer, suffer, suffer for your art
2.
mr. grim drops in every day just to say he’s here to stay but birds they still sing soft, sweet and free almost like they call to you and me when you were so young and green like a fern in the ground curled up to spring are you what you thought you would be? and if so did you think that we’d be we? but let’s not sit here marking time like chalk on a rainy sidewalk washed up with the grime there’s a great big world outside our heads so let’s not miss a beat we can sleep when we’re dead let’s go where the sky hugs the ground we don’t need a map to get around and chase the sun on down ‘til the night leads us on like a firefly let’s not sit here marking time like scratches on a prison wall we’ve built up in our minds there’s a great big world outside our bed so let’s not miss a thing we can sleep when we’re dead
3.
I felt guilty, I wasn’t even catholic I was dirty trying to get clean with spit I was so down that I couldn’t climb up to sit I was tired of people who don’t give a shhhh it’s hard, it’s so hard it’s hard to have a heart it’s so hard to have a heart when all it does is bleed You were talking but I just couldn’t hear I was listening to my pulse pound in my ears you did surgery with a pair of garden shears I was hoping for a little anesthesia, dear it’s hard to have a heart that loves it’s hard to hug with boxing gloves it’s hard to have a heart in pain it’s hard to break up on a train it’s hard to have a heart that ticks it’s hard to deal with all the pricks it’s hard to have a heart that cares it’s hard to get your heart repaired
4.
8:04 01:26
the 8:04 number 135 is a whole different ride with your headphones on and your favorite song drowning out the mourning half awake halfway there and completely in love
5.
the camera pans from left to right the sidewalk soft with dappled light you’re haloed by the morning sun we follow you on down the street with close-ups of your sneakered feet we hear you hum a simple tune the camera drifts up to your face your smile looks slightly out of place we hear the sprinklers and the birds they form a chorus without words you’re walking slowly out of frame an indie anthem leads your way uplifting yet without cliché you disappear in camera glare the credits roll after you’re gone we know you’re happy from now on
6.
work is the curse of the drinking class work is the curse of the drinking class work is the curse of the drinking class and so say all of us work is the curse of the drinking class so drop your shovels and raise your glass and tell your boss to kiss your ass early in the morning day is for sleeping and night for fun so pour the bottle until the sun rises upon your toils undone ‘til some other morning all work and no play makes for a dull day all work and no play bleeds all your days gray work is the curse of the leisure class so close your spreadsheets and raise your glass and burn your ledgers to darkest ash early in the morning the years are spent in days and hours the frost it turns to dust the flowers so lay to waste the office towers come this monday morning
7.
empty your head my dear, my darling pour out all your dreams and schemes pull the fears out of your pockets lint and all we’ll pile them up into a great big ball hang the good up on the wall throw the rest out in the hall step over it on our way out of town empty your heart my storm, my sunshine don’t hold back an ounce of feeling pour it out like a baptist preacher sweat and all quench me in the rites of love rain down like a 100 year flood wash away all of the mud ‘til we’re as clean as saints on a hospital floor empty yourself my gin, my tonic numb me to the cold and dull smooth out my cracks and edges ‘til I’m drunk roll me out like a brand new lawn watch the night unfold the dawn and hold me ‘til the sun is gone to pull the shade down on our sweet days
8.
ready? 03:32
blow wind, blow (may you die down on down the road) gonna hop up on my motorbike gonna point the wheels to Paradise gonna roll on like a pair of dice gonna go until we’re good and gone gonna chase the sun from dawn to dawn and right before she gets on my baby says “ready?” and I say “yeah” flow stream, flow (never stay the same as you go) gonna get our fill down at the well gonna feel like heaven and look like hell gonna kiss the night and never tell gonna feel it right down in our bones gonna throw until we’re overthrown gonna go before we’re overblown my baby says “ready?” and I say “yeah” crow on, crow (‘til you have to caw at your ghost) gonna wring our life out like a towel gonna run with scissors down the hall gonna love like Eve before the fall gonna breathe the water and drink the land gonna whole up for a big last stand gonna play on like a Dixie band when my baby says “ready?” I say “yeah”
9.
a southern belle and northern ways mix like bourbon with a valium haze I was your prize you were my catch ‘til time proved you for a jealous wretch but nothing or no one means a thing except for you, dear we lived it up we tore it down from old manhattan to your one-horse town we’d drift apart, we’d make amends we lived like tourists with famous friends but I could paint and I could dance it got me this gig in the Highland San but nothing or no one means a thing except for you you mined my words and drank the proof you raided my diary and you stole my youth now I’m buried under your prose a fitting end, a flapper’s close
10.
if the river 01:59
if the river if the river if the river was if the river if the river if the river was river was if the river was whiskey if the river was whiskey if the river was whiskey all the fish would be dead
11.
streetlight 03:38
streetlight, streetlight shining all night think I’ll stay up with you streetlight, streetlight you won’t sleep tight ‘til the sun throws her blanket of blue streetlight, streetlight feel like we just might burn out before your time streetlight, streetlight put your spotlight on the rain and the snow and the crimes make your sons shine and your daughters like lovers and moths to you streetlight, streetlight think I just might stay awake
12.
I didn't write this one, so Google it.

credits

released September 24, 2013

All songs by J.W. Schuller except:
Track 6 co-written from the Great Beyond by Mark Eriksson
Track 12 by Leo Friedman and Beth Slater Whitson
Co-produced and engineered by Michael Wisti
Recorded on 2-inch tape, mixed & mastered at Albatross Studio, Mpls

J.W. Schuller: vocals, guitar, bass, percussion and other assorted noisemakers including but not limited to organ, a toy piano, a real piano, a kazoo, a Uniball pen, chimes, and the load-bearing support post in Wisti’s basement.

Michael Wisti: backing vocals on track 1; trumpet on tracks 1 and 3.

Michael Helm, Joe McKenna, Todd Nelson & Mark Tapper: Men’s chorus on tracks 6 and 10.

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J.W. Schuller Boulder, Colorado

Singer, guitar slinger and purveyor of quirky indie folk rock. Recently emigrated to Boulder from Minneapolis. Known to abuse my Guild acoustic mercilessly but also have a softer side. Currently performing as a duo with my charming, bearded nephew Jens Larsen on drums and backing vocals. Come see us, you hear? Cheers. ... more

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