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Too Far Gone

by Too Far Gone

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The Engine 05:39
Put your life on loan. Your deed to a new tent home may bleed ink in rain or fail to gain you the assurances you've known. This town ain't big enough for me and all of us. So show me your bone fides and if you qualify you can wait for a home. I'm a construction manager. I oversee the destruction of my pact with humanity to work in solidarity with people forming lines and standing in the way. We all have to work. We’re connecting over poison on Fridays - on hating the grind, pushing brooms, or hawking dimes - experts in repetition. I rose through the ranks stacking blocks. I’m well intentioned, I’m not selling stocks. But somehow I managed to gentrify the planet a la Brooklyn and San Francisco. I'm a construction manager. I oversee the production of fancy new office space with kegerators and a mindful place to contemplate the fate of those dislocated in our wake. I'm a construction manager. I oversee the destruction of my adopted community with dollar stores and gang graffiti, and generations of people seeking stability, at least nominally. The tower cranes, they all look the same. The drones swarm like birds over prey. This is the engine. We are proteins. The bartenders pour sunshine in pint glasses. I work like a surgeon: cutting, installing steel that’ll last a lifetime. Then let the rat race attack it. Step back and tap glasses with the architects and the brokers because our work is worth and noble, providing light to the blighted blocks. We’re moving problems somewhere else because these back yards are in bloom. I'm a construction manager. I oversee the reduction of reality to the future tense, of our best intents to what makes sense, so that discontent seems fanatical. We’ll have integrity in the end. Someone will always argue that there’s money left to spend. Just not on them. The tower cranes, they all look the same. The drones swarm like birds over prey. This is the engine. We are proteins. The bartenders will sleep in this weekend.
Fear 03:59
We’re the ineffectual upper middle class apologists with no real axe to grind. We’re saying, ‘All for one.’ Or is it, ‘One for all?’ We‘re like a pile of bricks that fell from an impenetrable brick wall. Are we safe here? Or has our loan come due? The action is outside, it’s revolution in slow motion. Holler out your bumper sticker: ‘Elect a clown then expect a circus,’ ‘Visualize whirled peas.’ And we know that won’t make it happen but it’s those little everyday things, they ripple and get bigger. But, you know, we all have needs. Looking out from the high up windows. In climate controlled spaces, we’re pacing to the sounds of the street flying right past the glass: cries of reason sent skyward on the megaphone. They’re calling out on the megaphone with their screams and shouts: ‘Fight fire with fire. An eye for an eye.’ Is this resistance? The house: it burnt down. And the eyes: blind. Are we safe here? Or entombed by our apathy? The action’s outside, it’s revolution in slow motion. New histories are written without ink. The aristocracy is the second percent. Or the twentieth. It’s all the same to the eighty. And barely discernible from the one or one tenth.
Electricity 05:56
We met and then the world went from civilized to disguised in a heartbeat. Remember the Rohingya, Rwanda, Congo and Croatia. Hold Katrina and Irma next to Haiti and Maria to see our slanting landscape. It’s tilting and self-destructing. But we’re out tonight so is jazz alright? We’re like two astronauts trying to change their trajectories in space: in sight but just out of reach. There’s nothing more slow and more alone than drifting away from your home, slowly revolving at an arm’s length away. I fall for you every day when you look my way. On this backdrop of eternity, you saved me. You’re unique, you make funny jokes about my muscles. So I know that you like them. You know I want to know that you like them. Cause there a power between us that’s more than I dreamed of. We’re dangerous on our own like two charged poles grabbing hold to some live lines downed in the cold. Life is better together than alone, sometimes we add a spark and then explode. A bright white magnesium is seen a galaxy away. I fall for you every day when you look my way. Our gravity pulls us in and we make electricity. Between you and me, we can’t always have perfect connection. But we’re exactly as we’re supposed to be. We’re grounded and charging for the action. The future creates a slipstream. Life glides lightly with you toward the unseen.
Fog of Words 04:00
The jabs last night drew blood. Your words weren’t what I heard. “I’ll make room on the couch, and draw beads on their meanings.” Fog of words. Where to take aim? The fog of words is always distracting, it’s always digressing. It gets confusing mistaking hits for gains. Fighting is a team sport. Dissolve yourself into one. Give up control, swing in the air, and dream of people who care. Fog of words is suffocating. Like carbon monoxide, it’s slow and sleepy. You may want to die but you’ll awake to realize you drove it all away. A heavy air hangs inside and makes it hard to move. Stomach cramps, tears and cries for those who won’t break loose. A fog of words that no one’s heard is barely worth the breath. Which one’s better? Which one’s worse? They’re indistinguishable at best. And we decide the rest cause there’s a fog of words with each breath. Take cover and get rest. I can see much more clearly from here cause I’m high up on the hill. There’s nowhere to go, as far as the eye can see, we’re pinned down by the enormity. Fog of words, all encompassing. Fog of words is fickle and fleeting, a life of its own, arrival unknown, just stay put and wait for the fog of words.
Wake up. What’s your first thought? Am I able to move? Feel around, find some footing. Will I fall on the first step? It’s too far away to think about. I can’t get off the ground. You’ll see human suffering all around If you look. It’s not hard. Can they see you? Too many inherited experiences, shit we choose not to think about. It all takes place on our watch. It’s not that there aren’t any alternatives, we have the wealth. Think about your options and what steps will be traced back to you. There’s a pain in my head like a ten foot free fall head first on to concrete. My brain’s been saved though I still can’t stop these streaks that tear through my eye. There’s lightning and thunder inside. I’ve been walking about a minute now, gently rocking side to side. Everything takes forever, there’s no quick trip to the store. First stop is a sit down, I pretend that I smoke cause I don’t even have any cigarettes. And so I breathe in and tell myself, ‘Today is the day.’ Then I exhale and push it out all the way. How did I let you get away? There’s no love on the streets these days. Most of my friends have gone insane. And strangers look stranger everyday. They look at me, to them I’m free, and good for nothing.
Dissonance 06:10
A slow afternoon. The sweet smell of the evening. On shore breeze overhead. A second wind slows over blooming hills, it becomes a blanket of air to keep out the chill. We’re all warm, docile, and still. And still we remember our reminders and alarms. It’s a nice excuse to look down and pocket check the phone. Wouldn’t you know we’re at war, it’s called total war. Always the same explanations, myths and lore. Thousands of miles of front lines, but none at our back door. Rushing to work, and rushing home. Changing lanes, it’s all the same so settle in. A smoggy tranquility wraps the traffic. The speakers drone on scanning ASMR static. America’s team caught cheating again. There were shotgun mics on the sidelines sounding closer than the stands. Drop the can attached with wire, send DM’s to the end of the aisle, friends: It’s hard to believe we’re at war perpetually. Life seems the same for everyone around me. Young and old, city and country people check Nixle religiously for an APB or emergency. The devil’s working behind every clickable stop. Pulling strings so the spending won’t stop. Almost broke and blind to the tether, the puppets turn on one another. We’ve already turned on each other. All so busy, oh so busy. Dancing with shows to make it all feel real. Focus all our attention on magnificent diversions. You’d hardly know we’re at war all over the world. Fighting the same fights since our flag was first unfurled. It’s costing fortunes, mortgages on oceans. The blind can see the end is coming soon. Tonight we’ll invade some place I’ve never seen. It won’t make the papers since we kept it all real clean. Endless progression. Imperial implosion is right outside, knocking, knocking.
I’m falling apart quite literally. My body’s stopped working and I don’t want to be picking up the pieces. I won’t let them stay between us cause with out you I won’t stop falling apart. No bones are broken yet as you can see cause my heart is pounding, the sound is frightening. It’s a whistling, creasiendoing screeching that tells me the pressure is increasing. The palace could blow, so get out of sight. I’m falling apart. I was searching when I found you. You took me flying and god the skies were blue. But when it ended I wished I knew what you were going to do. I’m tearing out on dirt trying to stay on the ground, kicking rocks but focused on the road outta town. There’s a trail of dust and the sun’s retreating behind the dreams I’m still entreating to take me out tonight. With getting old some things’ve subdued. I don’t really run quite as hot as I used to. But for all the dreams we’ve burned through there’s the fiery wrecks we’ve refused to succumb to. We’re holding out for more. Remember the uproar. If only we were slamming doors when the scene went dark. I’m falling a part. I was sinking so I grabbed you, thinking vacation in the ocean blue. We’re losing airspeed, the hills are looming. But for now we’re still soaring. This is all things from all the years. Wrapped up in the one thing you can see and touch right here. This won’t go down the way it’s supposed to. I’m not going down.
The Moment 04:25
I gotta get it in check. I want to wring my neck. Compulsivity. There’s an animal that lives within me, a creature of habit, keeps its paws on the scales of my psyche; id on the one side, super ego on the other. Compulsivity. Count to ten and then back again. A steady hand is a trusted fried. It crawls through time and heredity where history comes alive. On the fringe. On the fringe of the spare time society. Anxiety. Barely holding on. Wringing fingers to the bone. You rang the bell but I hid upstairs, tossing and turning alone. Anxiety. Waking up with a frightened memory of the common thread through all that imagery. It’s rolled up tight to form a single line, it’s got all of everything wrapped inside. Time's in circles; always on repeat. Like a set of waves, each one unique, but from the beach, they’re like a picture, frozen & uniform: shot from a distance to capture the moment in time. There’s a halo of angles blurring the sea with the sky. The plan is to dip after midnight. And hope to reach town by first light. Impulsivity. Always facing forward. Focused on the future. Let the winds transfix my attention, they’re always blowing. Impulsivity.


High-energy indie rock combines the forces of pop, punk, and metal into epic anthems of life, love, and rebellion.


released November 1, 2018

All songs written by Too Far Gone. Produced by Justin Zavislak. Recorded at Petaluma Rehearsal Studios, Petaluma, CA during summer 2018. Mastered by Gary Hobish at A.Hammer Mastering, San Francisco, CA. Visit Too-Far-Gone.com for more information.


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Too Far Gone Petaluma, California

Jake Byrnes - Drums
Jake Fuiten - Bass
Kamran Imran - Guitar and Vocals
Justin Zavislak - Guitar and Vocals

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