Victory

She shut me up from the basement stairwell
It felt great to be yelled at like I was at home
I put one finger over my lips, mimicking hers
Then wanted to be her, with all that power
Perspiring in the heavy afternoon, it was so commonplace then
To know directly I was not a thing of this earth

And we all thought that was fine
Just another way of doing things here
She still looks at me with those mean eyes
Every time I climb a stair she retreats
Until we are in the kitchen
Kissing hard against the stove

“You are the only place I am,” I say into her mouth
The tea kettle lets loose a shrill howl of victory
As we have just defeated the enemy
“Yes.” I say again. We have done this together
Her mouth is salty with every other man’s taste
I went to the ocean with her an nearly drowned

Right on the shore

Gown

I went back to the place where they call me destroyer
It’s a pretty town but I wouldn’t want to stay
When I get out of there I always seem to feel lighter
Why that is I really couldn’t say

Too many times I wanted to jump in front
Of Confederate flag-waving pickup trucks
And all I do on my day off is talk myself to sleep
Kept up by the neighbor’s fights and noisy fucking dreams

I buy my brother Happy Meals with money I have found
On grubby supermarket floors or in the folds of your best gown
You keep inside your closet and dress up late at night
Look at yourself sideways to emphasize your height

We stop at a beach just to stand in the surf
I examine your bones through the holes in your shirt
The sand beneath my toes feels right cos I was born in it
A stupid, bloody animal and ready for my fits

I keep a pack of gum around for whenever we are out
Can’t stand all that fake mint myself, but I love to watch your mouth
Your eyes when you are thinking turn inside themselves
I never feel as sick as when I’m lusting after you

My unborn older brother ate my mother’s insides up
Now I have turned into him, it’s an awful thing to watch
Like any high school wrestling match or any network’s news
With kids dressed up like emperors, beheading all their fools

Every time I sleep I think that this is how I’ll go
In the same sunken mattress and still very much alone
And all this background ambiance of construction, early morning
The sky looked goddam grey today with all those storm clouds forming

These days I know every face that I see
From the gum-stained streets, from my window seat
I see the barber, and the cop, and the drunk, and the wife
At the pharmacy, looking to take her life

And someone at the corner store will sell me cigarettes
And some girl will be beautiful with bug bites on her neck
But I will say, “I’m leaving here, though I don’t know the roads.”
And they will say, “The important thing is knowing you must go.”

I used to hear Sister sing herself to sleep
Songs about changing the colors of leaves
But now she looks older and tired with life
And some stranger’s gone and made her his wife

And they fight in the home that I grew up in
Now I don’t really know where I live
The next time I lay down, that’s where I should stay
With just my body and my mind I’ll surely go insane

When the neighbors burned their house down
We watched that spectacle
Nobody was hurt much but the dog bowed like a ghost

When their daughter drank her poison
And threw herself into the gorge
We wore our best black clothing, and smoked outside the church

Walt Disney

I woke up this morning with voices in my head
I fell asleep to the sound of your breathing
Into my good ear
Lay on my chest here

From my bed the windows give me newly colored light
And muffled morning sounds and time to empathize
With the bakers who rose so early again
Like my mother when she had something to say

I found today again another unfamiliar place
Looked at the body I’ve got the rest of my life to waste
I kiss your fevered head
You take a day of rest

Just like a god I don’t pray to anymore
That little cross you kiss before you go to work
And on your forehead a holy fucking bead of sweat forms
It forms

And if you couldn’t tell
All my favorite people have killed themselves
And if you’re feeling well
Take a look around you, I’m sure you’ll come down

And if you couldn’t wait
All great men have someone good to hate
And if you couldn’t bother
Even Walt Disney just loathed his father

Second Marriage

All our stars are dead again
All that light is in your head
We waste so much time together
I have so much else to go for

Home is a place I’d like to go
O, to be a little warm
And close

Yours is a face I’d like to see
O, could you pick it out for me
For me

Nightcrawlers clog up my drain
Every night, the same refrain
My old buggy, boring town
I could be out getting killed right now

Home is a place I’d like to go
O, to be a little warm
And close

Yours is a face I’d like to see
O, could you pick it out for me
For me

At dawn, all is calm

In the morning she blinks with great effort
In the evening she thinks from her favorite chair
In the afternoon she does nothing
Every night I shut off her body with my hands

Hum (Sky)

The day tasted like ocean and my father’s cigars
Felt like the back of your head while you’re counting up stars
Looked like a bug while you’re spitting on it

And it smelled like sunscreen and freshly cut grass
I told you about this, you shut me up fast
You said, “All days smell like desperate kids.”
(Our talks always end with something like this)

I’ve got this notion in my head I’m getting too old
Been watching movies all my life I’m totally sold
On the idea of death as a romantic trip

Grew up in an old house with creaky floorboards
I’ll die in a hospital in the arms of a nurse
And that’s really everywhere I’ve ever been
(From my front porch to the end of the strip)

I used to know recipes and a couple card tricks
The order of planets and baseball statistics
O, I don’t know nothing anymore

I’ve got an empty head that tells me keep going
But everything I love winds up ruined
I can’t love nothing anymore
(So sorry, but no I can’t love you girl)

I feel crazy most days, there’s a hum in my brain
Humming’s good for me, I don’t complain
Humming and standing a little too close to the fire

Burns off all my hair, burns off all my skin
Human being weaknesses
Still I can’t help feeling like what I’m doing is right
(Ten thousand years later, we’re still in love with the sky)

Old

Of course I felt ugly
Letting my chest to give way to new air
Looking at my fingernails gather dirt over time
Thinking about the way the doctors first held me
Like an animal thing, stupid and new
The last time I cried I was just tired

A good sweat carries away dead skin
And I grind my old, old teeth

One day stood so still so I could feel my cells multiplying
The next day had to catch up
I do not remember that one at all

Neck's Wet

All the way back from a faraway state
I’m smiling at waitresses clearing my place
The flicker of signs on the side of the road
And exits for places I’ll never grow old

You’re dozing off in a seat by my side
Playing home movies behind shuttered eyes
Of a beautiful family you can no longer feel
At my private altar I quietly kneel

To a god with a face like a new dollar bill
With a line out the door of the people he’s killed
In his wars and his cars and his hurricanes
Your hair’s dancing out the window, gathering rain

We stop at a beach just to stand in the surf
I examine your bones through the holes in your shirt
Until my chest tells me it’s again time to breathe in
The rest of my body too dumb to believe it

I curse and the breath is heavy with frost
You say what you say every time we get lost
“There are so many cities but only one road”
It’s under the tires and in the back of my throat

Burned into my eyes and in all of my dreams
It pours out of my mouth when I’m trying to speak
So I’m talking in brake lights and white dotted lines
You respond in atlases, we’re both doing fine

Feels odd to stand still when we stop for a leak
To see a human face again, to eat something cheap
I ask someone the time and the day and the place
They tell me a lot of words taking up space

We’re off again without a thought to anywhere we’ve been
I just don’t care to think about how long that I have lived
Those memories are back again, they’re whispering so loud
Ran out of conversation and now the only sound

Is a slowly dying radio churning out jazz
And a mournful, moaning engine thinks we’re going too fast
And every time we hit a bridge I harmonize my hum
Pass a little lady with two bags and two breasts and a thumb

When I’m filling my tank all my faculties collapse
From the tedium of driving or the smell of summer gas
Somehow these bring back to me my warm New Jersey nights
Sinking into bedsprings, but wanting to take flight

I used to hear Sister sing herself to sleep
Songs about changing the colors of leaves
But now she looks older and tired with life
And some stranger’s gone and made her his wife

And they fight in the home that I grew up in
Now I don’t really know where I live
It’s when my neck’s wet that I realize I’m crying
And the sound of a siren reminds me I’m driving

Fucking Beautiful

I.

Ice cream and strawberries
Running down your neck
Onto your jewelry

You me and a heavy heat
Driving fast enough
That’s everything I need

A little wind and a radio
Picks up a punk rock station
From the next county over

In your room with your pretty things
Framed pornography
Worthless birthstone on your ring

II.

I want to write songs with you
Commit crimes with you
Make love with you

Turn up the volume on the stereo
We can kiss real loud
And nobody should know

Now my bed feels too big
When you’re not there
I’m drowning in my sheets

I kiss your hair when you go to bed
And I can hear it hum
Your brain, she does not rest

III.

I want to buy a home for us
Make a meal for us
Be a man for us

When I wake up I’m so relieved
You still exist
Not only in my dreams

I just found the perfect thing
I kiss with my eyes open
Just to let more of you in

The world looked a little fucked before
Now that you’re here
It’s fucking beautiful

Romance

Julius Caesar sprawled out on his bed
Eating crackerjacks and playing guitar
His black eye is conspicuous
Bob Marley posters hung on the wall

He’s sick of his body there’s nothing to do
Hears his parents fight in the other room
Opens the window and nearly swoons
The sky looks big next to the fading moon

You loved him
You left him
A postcard
From Scranton

The electric city where your parents met
You lick the stamp with vague regret
Start to wonder where that love went
Then start to worry about yourself again

Everything’s dull in your little world
You wish you were still a little girl
Dressing up in your mother’s pearls
Talking in accents, so self-assured

Your back hurts
Your skin’s dry
Your chest heaves
With a sigh

Sighs don’t work they’re excuses to breathe and
You don’t feel better when you’re trying to talk to Jesus
And you’re not sure, but you think you don’t believe in
Love or life or sex or joy or reason

Get into your father’s car and drive away
Find yourself on the interstate
Thinking about the things you hate
Thinking about this fucking state

From Sussex
To Monmouth
New Jersey
Life sentence

On Vacation

On the peaks of Mt. Something, don’t try to remember what
You lose all the feeling in your lower body and are
Forced to believe you are alive based only on the asthmatic ache in your chest
Distracted by me, your saliva turns solid in your mouth

And meet my other woman with no name
Looking somehow breezy at however many below
Grimace with her for a morning mourning moment
So to say
As we summit
She commits her mouth to words
Contorting herself with a life I do not find at home
So with no breath
I say, “Yes.”

Excuse Me

Remember when
The kitchen clock
Ran out of batteries

And we sat there
Smiling dumb
We didn’t know when to leave

Remember when
You pushed me back
Against a statue of a saint

And kissed me hard
On my mouth
I thought that I would faint
I love your cool clean sheets
I love your loud heartbeat
I love your dirty cleats
From when you were a kid

You hate your mother’s breasts
You hate the government
You hate the word repent
It reminds you of some shit

I love your favorite band
I love your sweaty hand
I love hitting the fan
As I get out of your bed

You hate the radio
You hate reality shows
You hate the game of Clue
But you love heavy metal

Is there anything else you’d like to do?

Dead Tired

I feel dead
Before I know that I am
Two halves of a worm
Make love in my hand

I feel nauseous
While I’m watching them fight
Like the headaches I get
From your SUV brights

I feel warmer
In front of their glow
In this way I am lighter
So much like a ghost

I feel nervous
When you’re coming to bed
Your practiced little hands
Your confident breasts

I feel quiet
As I’m getting to sleep
With an electrical hum
Suffocating me

I feel clumsy
Stuck in the cloth
I make awkward movements
To shut the alarm off

I feel stupid
I want to be touched
Your mom’s too-black coffee
Is waking me up

I feel better
When I stay in my brain
I used to like outside
But it’s just not the same

I feel older
When I’m thinking this way
It’s useless nostalgia
For a misremembered day

I feel handsome
When you tell me I am
Trace the lines with my finger
Of your different tans

I feel tired

Five Haikus

Talking is too slow
Place your palm on my forehead
Communication!

I'm out forever
Something in my head all night
Wake up with reserve

The brother runs out
To experiment with life
Sister does the same

I can sort of breathe
You are so terrifying
Please let's never talk

Sit very still, please
Meditate on the TV
Thanks, you are ours now

Seventeen Pushups

I watch a world of laugh tracks and best friends falling in love
On an old VHS my old machine ate
Someone switched tapes

I bring home my new reality only to find it repetitive and disappointing
Don’t bother turning it on anymore
Same show every night

I sell my old soul up the river to a used car man in a cheap suit
He looks happy to see me
But forgets my name

I get a little nervous whenever I microwave something
So I do almost seventeen pushups
Waiting for my dinner to thaw

I lean out my bedroom window to violently cough
Fingernail in my throat again
From eating myself

I fall in love with every girl who looks tired and sad
No explanation for this
Sort of dumb

I lay in cars with a victim of peroxide and punk rock
She only likes politics
Kisses like she’s angry

I manufacture gross nostalgia for all my boring memories
Remember when boring actually meant something
What’s with kids these days

I write brilliant novels in my dreams
Wake up with nothing
Go back to sleep

I get it into my head somehow that I am a nihilist
That stopped meaning anything to me
Get it?

I think about all the interesting ways people commit suicide
Then get all depressed
And ruin it

I divine the future based on decoder rings I find at the bottom of cereal boxes
Tomorrow will be the same
The next day too

Again, Sweat

Oh, did you smell like fireworks
standing there with my breath on your neck?
Watching desperate moth maneuvers at the screen door

Oh, did you see those hippies
bare feet hitting hard on the floor?
Wanting to be them, to have another body to put drugs into

Fuck, did you sweat out of all your clothes
and lay naked on your bed waiting for something to get you?
Paying close attention to your saliva as it crashed against the roof of your mouth

Didn't I see you looking tall and nervous
and gorgeous and perfect and laughing and --
Nevermind, that wasn't you I don't know

Twenty-First Century Father

A newsman, eating his wife's meal, feels
Unsafe
His five children, growing up so close to the war
Smelling it when they walk
Too close to the television
Washing his hands, he feels something inconsistent in the faucet
Looking down, cause to rejoice
He has struck oil!

Juvenile/Spiritual

It's now easier than ever to become a martyr
They're making me in stained glass as we speak
Someone did a number on that Catholic daughter
Her lips are clenched in prayer, she will not eat

There were spirits here today
I found eyeholes in our sheets

Singing hymns by candlelight
Casting out the madness
Meet me on the roof tonight
I'm waiting for an eclipse

Remember Saturday cartoons
Downstairs in the kitchen
Your parents in the other room
Studying religion

How did you come to fall in love
With such a dirty artist?
That poor boy's been growing up
Sleeping with his paint sets

The sun is coming up again
Begin our daily ritual
Worship performed from our bed
Juvenile? spiritual?

It's now early evening, all the TV news is on
Casualties recited to the beating of a drum
The war is in my living room, but I can always turn it off
I leave it there for comfort, can't sleep without the gunshots

The streets are getting cold
It's all I can do to sweat
I tried to sell my soul
But no one wanted that

Romance

Julius Caesar, sprawled out on his bed, eating crackerjacks and playing guitar.

Brush Our Teeth

Set down next to our dying star
With a telescope and a clumsy jaw
I write a book to feed the fire
I exercise before the riot

On the back porch we've got big ideas
Our father's eyes, our mother's fear
This has been our finest year
I find your waist and bring you near

We make sure we have both wept
We start feeling when we last slept
Coffee makes my stomach bend
But I want to be awake when the whole world ends

I get all my old film developed
And see some people
I haven't seen in years

I buy some food then have to sell it
I need that money
For newspapers

For some reason we go to church
There's people there who know our earth
Our ears are dry so nothing sticks
We come home with a crucifix

Let the animals out their cage
Drink and smoke like half our age
We get nervous and start to clean
We get quiet and brush our teeth

I shut down the house and go outside
I swear I never ever felt more alive
Than when I was dying
And she's replying

"Hurry up, into cellar"
Bless this make-believe bomb shelter
A morning meal, a lifetime work
Left to age on the surface

Down there we just talk and spit
Laugh when we both have to shit
Try to feel like nothing's wrong
Waiting for the atomic bomb

Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles

Boy: Hey Girl, how do you feel about electronic music?
Girl: I love electronic music.
Boy: Hey Girl, how do you feel about punk rock music?
Girl: I love punk rock music.
Boy: How would you like to be in a electronic punk rock band and take over the world and shit?
Girl: Okay-- wait... Can I still feign apathy and wear plaid skirts?
Boy: Yeah, whatever.

Shortly after this imagined conversation took place, the boy (Ethan Kath) and the girl (Alice Glass) shoved an Atari 5200 sound chip into a keyboard and got to work. Crystal Castles was born.

The first thing you should know about Crystal Castles is they don't give a shit. They'll sample the French vocals from beginning of Death From Above 1979's "Dead Womb" for for three minutes and then throw in two seconds of the actual song just for fun. They'll record their singer practicing in an apartment without her knowing, put it up on Myspace and get a record deal. They'll remix HEALTH's "Crimewave" and make it embarrassingly better than the original. And that's all within the first three songs.

The rest of the album is comprised of thumping, explosive dance music. And not just "dance" music. Music you will actually dance to. Sure, it starts with a single foot tapping under your desk. But believe you me, it ends on top of your neighbor's dinner table in your underwear shouting, "NO! LEAVE THIS ON! THIS IS GOOOOD!"

This is a common reaction after hearing the album for the first time. By the third or fourth listen you'll be able to sit still long enough to appreciate the brilliant arrangements, chock full of crunchy percussion and catchy hooks, pounding bass and playful synths. You can almost see Ethan performing live, leaning over a table that appears to be puking wires and colored lights, cooly bobbing his head to the beat while his fingers deftly create a sea of arcade sound effects and choppy beats.

While Ethan is responsible for the synthetic half of Crystal Castles, Alice takes charge of the organic, singing in a sneering, throaty yelp. She is the not-so-secret weapon of the group, featured most prominently on "Alice Practice," "XXZXCUZX Me," and "Courtship Date." Her lyrics range from the unintelligible ("Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail") to the vaguely sexual ("You're covered in the lotion / That was inside of me.")

It's true that the album is a little top-heavy. Crystal Castles dump all of their tricks into the first half of the album, saving little new for the last five songs or so. But what do you expect from two people so obviously more interested in creating the next great party than the next great record? Inadvertently, they may have done both.

I've found that I am an angrier person when I am listening to this record. Hearing its grinding electronics and shouts of frustration, I feel the urgent need to pump my fist in the air, shave my hair into a mohawk, and spray paint "BUSH SUCKS" graffiti all over the side of my school. If you have the time and energy for this kind of angst, this is the album for you.