We've updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Era Adieu

by monopines

/
  • Digital Album
    Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $7 USD  or more

    You own this

     

  • Cassette + Digital Album

    White print on dark pink cassette w/ 8-panel insert including all lyrics and free digital download code. Limited first edition, shipping in 3-4 weeks.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Era Adieu via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 31 days
    edition of 50 

      $10 USD or more 

    You own this  

     

  • Compact Disc
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    CD w/ 4-panel insert including all lyrics.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Era Adieu via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out

1.
Rain, applause, another something else gets lost in the translation. When we lock eyes I can feel the X-Acto® knife moving slow like chalk around the outline of my body in the picture. She said, "I don't need no one." A ceiling needs four walls and the garbage needs a hall to pollute, Dave. Your cloud shadows bruise my pleasant, scenic view of the void. I don't need no one. I don't need you. I don't need no one. I don't need you. I make my own fun. I'm fine. I'm alright. I'm going under. I'm fine. I'm going under. I'm alright. I'm going under. I'm a tough guy. I'm going under.
2.
Obliged 03:30
How long was I out? Am I supposed to not feel my legs? How much did you give me? Or how much did you take away? Days into weeks, weeks into months, decades later I don't even know where you live and if I did I would not visit. Oh, but it ebbs and flows... I still find some of your old clothes and laugh out loud when I remember the jokes we used to tell back when the center could hold and we weren't cold. Will we ever lock eyes across stage again? A 3-part harmony I never meant to attend. 318 Howard St., south end, if you feel so obliged. If you feel so obliged, come on by. Where did you go?
3.
Showing Up 03:21
Though "the trellis, dripping rain, looks like an abacus counting pain" isn't even worth writing down, I'm gonna climb it anyway to the window where you stay counting dog shit in the yard. I'm showing up for you. Man, you've had such a rough go of late. If I could, I would take some off your plate, but you gotta let some people in if you want help getting out. I won't let the stones you've sewn into the hem of your dress drag you down and keep you from showing up. Around here, it always feels like the last day of your life— all the lights go red in unison and walk single-file out of sight. But when all the dust kicked up turns into sky and every puddle into a sea, keep an ear out for a late phone call 'cause if it's late it's probably me trying to show up.
4.
Even the ice cubes are nice... High fill power down vests... A buck-knife with the family crest on the handle... and I'm a loser. He goes to the gym every night and every morning as well. My inner mind's a twisted hell, yeah, I know. And I'm a loser. I like to pretend that I'm above material things, but god I love this poured concrete countertop! I don't know if I can stop touching it. Just act natural, no one knows you're in here falling apart. Don't touch your face so much. Let's move away from the cocktail cart. Why must you be inebriated in order to take part in a conversation about Frasier and other shows you don't watch? How's it even possible that you could feel jealous of an area rug and turquoise necklace? Or are we using shiny objects to explain a self-poisoned self-concept? Oh, by all means, have another if you really think it'll bring you comfort. As long as you insist on disrepair, I'm not going anywhere. And I like to pretend that I'm above material things, but god I love this stone double slipper tub. I think I'm gonna throw up... Something's not sitting right. But it really is nice! What made you go with white?
5.
I've been having that feeling where you walk into a life but can't remember why. A steeple dissolves into heat where my window sill meets the sky. When I'm stiff on my side with comfort, sunset colors in my bloodshot eyes, which line is "live" and which line is "die" and which one am I? You can almost smell it happening to you when your performance review is due and you're flipping couch cushions for proof that you reallyreallyreally do have something important to do around here. Locked in the sky, trying to float away like a cloud in a video game the child's forgotten he'd paused because he turned the T.V. off and found something better to do than sit around listening to you singing about your performance review.
6.
Nightfalls 03:38
Night falls especially hard on some. Government buildings blue into dusk. Fake birds in real cages, desire lines you can't trust. What he can't see through the cracked-glass tree in his eye I myself as well walk by. Palm a scoop from the fountain, try to wake yourself up from this one. I reach out only to pull my coat together. "It's been some weather..." It's been some weather, wouldn't you say? Night falls especially hard on some. Government buildings blue into dusk. Fake birds in real cages, desire lines you shouldn't trust. A red lightbulb and a non-diegetic buzz at the end of this tunnel, cuz. Somebody cue the blue strings. Let's let the shadows define the walls. All lit up and empty like a high school lobby at midnight, all the purple, plastic chairs stacked inside. "Call this number for a good time" That's not what I meant to say. Intention is falling away. I put myself out to pasture. Is anyone out here? Can somebody answer? Insidious clatter. Then, like a hammer, the dark.
7.
The sky's falling apart on the ridge telling her she has to die before she can live, so she shares this last smoke with the wind. Like the pipe-gush behind a classroom poster of a "determined" river, she can feel it splash her liver. Then she's gone with all the misspelled, italicized thoughts, climbing light like a stubborn moth, like the ceiling is the afterlife. So she talks to the ceiling until the silence seems like someone might be listening or at least taking some of this stuff down. He likes to pretend he's a kind of puddle just long enough that the concave goes convex and he becomes a kind of crest. But it's a horseshoe hung above the door he has a hard time reaching anymore, and no luck when he can—just an empty hand and a pair of round dice. Then he's off with all the misspelled, italicized thoughts climbing light like a stubborn moth. The ceiling is the afterlife. And he talks to the ceiling until the silence seems like someone might be listening. Well, here's a promise I know the silence keeps: When nothing means anything, that's when you get to tell nothing what it means. I mean as the planet shakes us off like fleas, and every corner of the map's red with disease, and hiding on the back of every mystery is a little, plastic cover for some batteries, and the tail lights line up like a rosary, and we place the future's neck in the guillotine, come meet me for a smoke on the mezzanine so I can bum one and keep you close to me.
8.
Howard St. 02:26
(Instrumental)
9.
Anywhere 03:24
I'm feeling as light as the lid on a dumpster in an alley the sun hasn't found. Back in the day, we used to call that "shade" and talk shit until our smokes went out. Ever look up at the sky and wonder if somewhere else you're already dead? Why a cloud shaped like an anvil has hung over every town you've ever lived? I'm thinking of stepping out of my mind like a fruit fly hatching out of the rind. And, Chloe, I'm not big on promises but despite the noise I'll still hear your voice. The way dead pets live on in our Wi-Fi passwords, catching frisbees in the digital mist, we can't keep nightmare loops of ever midnight stoop upon which we've ever been kissed. But there's something new going on here, and I hesitate to give it a name because I tend to end up with an empty cup whenever I play that game. But I'm working on stepping out of my mind like a fruit fly hatching out of the rind. And, Chloe, I'm not big on promises but despite the noise I'll still hear your voice anywhere.
10.
Era Adieu 04:27
I don't have the greatest "turn radius." I hope you don't mind my ten-point about face at the end of this sentiment. I swear I mean what I mean to say, but all my language is set to the tempo of the Doomsday Clock, and, similarly, there will be no body there to finally push both long and short hands to the top, because no one ever has the time for goodbyes on the telephone in this movie. Still, you can always find me stoned by the romanescos in some suburban snow globe burning through a notebook trying to nail down how it feels to be uncertain how to deal with the way that you've been feeling as of late. Is all this self-guided therapy really doing anything for me? I think I'm too numb to tell. Father, son, and the holy ghost won't all fit on one piece of toast no matter how well you burn it. I fall down every night and hit every stair in this well I've so carefully designed to hold me down until the bubbles stop. Because I know how to drink until your thinking quiets down. How to drink until you're the only one around. But I miss you more than I could ever say in another voicemail fifteen states away. Cuz, I spend so much time locked in the past I fear it's all I'll ever have to look forward to —unless we bid this era adieu. Where I fall down every night and hit every stair in this world I've so carefully designed to hold me down until the bubbles...... Stop saying shit like that. You know it only makes your momma sad. So just shut up. Just look at the water.

credits

released July 12, 2021

Corey Oglesby: guitar, vocals, bass, drums, synths, clarinet, percussion
Chloe Wardropper: cello (9), backing vocals (3, 7, 9).

Engineered and mastered by Corey on Howard Street in 2020, and on Second Street in 2021.

Cover art by Karyna McGlynn ("Where do we go from here?" 13" x 13" analog collage, matted and framed). Experience more of her collage work and poetry at www.karyna.io

Many thanks to all of the great ears and minds for so much guidance throughout this project, and for keeping me on the rails when things were looking dicey. You know who you are.

This album is dedicated in memory of the poet Stephen Dunn.



© & ℗ Available Light Recordings, 2021.

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

monopines Moscow, Idaho

Formed in early 2021, monopines is a recording project led by Idaho-based singer-songwriter Corey Oglesby. The lineup variously includes Bill Tracy of Mother Yeti on lead guitar, Cooper Trail of Desolation Horse on drums and guitar, Nishit Nandankar on bass, and Jim Rizzuto of Mother Yeti on drums. monopines' debut album, Era Adieu, was written and recorded over the course of 2020. ... more

contact / help

Contact monopines

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account