The Birds

by Beechlord

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1.
02:06
2.
04:39
3.
4.
02:50
5.
04:21

about

18 minutes of ambient folk joy.

Lives on both sides of the mirror, in the upper cannonball district of cooldowns, and wherever else your egg is boiled.

Beechlord is the shared nickname - a name that Jenner calls Shawn and Shawn calls Jenner. Forged somewhere in seventh grade on trampolines, in garage bands, while wearing matching Harry Potter costumes for Halloween.

Beechlord is playful, a little heartbroken, and from Palo Alto.

Writing about music is like spooning about carburetors.

credits

released July 27, 2016

Jenner – Birdsong
Shawn – Birdproduction

Mastered by the illustrious Jordan Hartman King
www.presskit.to/jordanhartmanking

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Beechlord Pakse, Laos

Beechlord are a long distance band mostly just separated geographically.

Shawn: brazen candle lover, drinks milk

Jenner: occasional river floater, born to a family of yogi mandolinists

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Contact Beechlord

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Track Name: Albatross
It was very much an albatross
Unwieldly, paste in color, with a sweaty shine
Sincere, beady eyes, gauntly centered on a big face
And a confused frown for a beak
Silence loud as an aluminum pretzel bag
I don't know who kissed who,
But it was like there was a wriggling fish between our mouths
It was very much an albatross

Call it your favorite type of excess
Call it what you will
Call it your favorite type of excess
A cheap thrill

The way you beckoned me
The way your head fell strangely on my lap
Were you asleep?

She was very much an albatross
The way she tasted good
The way she tasted

You called it your favorite type of excess
Call it what you will

I'm afraid I can't hang
You're so uphill

But you're asleep in my arms
And I'm rocking to the beat
The logic of transitions
Your head is in my lap
And you're feigning asleep
And I can't breath
Track Name: Palo Alto
When I think of
Letting go
When I think of
Letting go
I don't

The golden hills
The anxious pills

This is not a train song
Though it may shake like one
This is not a rain song
The rain never comes

If you ask me
Where I'm from
If you ask me
Where I'm from

I'll say
I'm from
Nearby
San Francisco

This is not a train song
We all know the sound
This is not a rain song
The hills aren’t gold they’re brown

I don't want to feel ashamed
To call my home by its name
We can blame front lawns and rap songs and education
But home is not to blame

I'm from
Palo Alto
I grew up in
Palo Alto

The skyline view
Cal Avenue

This is not a train song
The chain link fence
The penny on the track
It never made sense

And grass itch and basil and pine nuts and soap and ping pong

When I think of home
I think of kick ball
When I think of home
I think of the light
In the summer
At 7pm
And the clouds we discovered
Were moving

When I think of home
I think of the Jay’s collide
The cracked window
I don't think of suicide

And catching the football
Mom in the kitchen blaring NPR
Dog shit and songs in the backyard
In the living room in the shed
And the stories we made
And the stories we still pretend

I don't want to feel ashamed
To call my home by its name
We can blame test scores and teenage and bored
And locked doors
But home is not to blame
Track Name: All of the Birds
All of the birds...

Blue jay foreplay Robin Osprey
Parakeet Seagull Golden Eagle
Egg sit smash hit Whippoorwill Louisville
Big birds soar small birds flap more

All of the birds...

Chickidy chicken feet burgundy burger meat
Peacock big flock dark cloud sunblock
King Fisher Derrick Fisher Appiliated Woodpecker

All of the birds...

What’s your favorite bird?
Heron cinnamon portland Cockatoo Great Blue looks after you

What’s your favorite bird song?
Magnetawan Canyon Wren Penguin singing

Whats your favorite bird name?
Hallll of fame hockey puck duck duck
Goose poop turkey soup fish scoop chicken coup
Encyclopedia Birdtanica
Migrating to Canada

All of the birds...

Are certain birds more bird than other birds
Certain breeds seem to be birdier species
For instance
Small fellows with smooth feathers like a swallow marshmallow
Short wings always sings got a beak no teeth
Not a Parrot not a Bat not Yasser Arafat,
Snowy Owl on the prowl Pterodactyl...

What’s this song for
Loons and condors
Birds use sticks and twigs
We wear powder wigs
Birds fly and sing songs
We drop atomic bombs
Regurgitate like a Pelican
We shoot birds for fun
But I’ll keep these human woes
Cause birds can't ride bicycles

All of the birds...
Track Name: Putcha Ear
There's a dog across from me
She barks incessantly
As I remain unanswering
Encroaching on the dog's property

Around about every now and then
She'll stop forget and begin again

Putcha ear plugs in...
Putcha hands up

Stop forget and begin again

Putcha ear plugs in...
Putcha hands up...
Track Name: Bill
Mmmmmm
Mmmmmm

The monster's arm was lit
Against the dark of the highway
Flood lights beads of rain

It was picking up dirt
In the lane that was closed
Claws sunk in the earth
Scooped up a cat

Accidentally
Unnoticed by the monster's driver
Who looked a bit like you and me

He drove a caterpillar machine
Muscled orange and mean
He'd whisper
Mama I'm sailing home
I'm sailing home

The cat's name was bill
He lived on the hill
Our driver was tasked to excavate

Bill was a bit over weight
With proud padded paws
He'd seen many things but nothing quite
Nothing like what he saw

The driver's name was Bill
Same name as the cat
He’d stare and whisper
At the sight, the song
Of every bird

And so our hero's collide
The fateful ride
The cat rose suspended atop a mound
A throne of mud

The rush of cool air
The freeway glare
The silver rain
The ringing harps
His name

Bill, the driver, was blinded by the cat's eyes reflecting the silver flood lights. He turned off the machine and stumbled from it's metal cage just as a snowy white owl swooped from the stormy sky and plucked the cat straight out of the machine's claw. Driver bill dropped to his knees and watching the owl clutching the cat fly away he whispered, "Mama I'm sailing home, I'm sailing home."

Cattails and common grey whales and the ownership of abalone and the way the cotton falls slightly left to the right way to own a balogne shop in the upper cannon ball district of cool down in the river or wherever else your eggs boil...