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Where The Music Goes To Die

by Matthew Squires and The Learning Disorders

supported by
Andrew Hilbert
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Andrew Hilbert Matthew Squires has inventive songwriting and arrangements with superb pop sensibilities that do not sacrifice the substance at the core of his music. highly recommended.
Dogwood
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Dogwood Sometimes it's seems offensive that the world hasn't yet acknowledged how incredible a particular record sounds...it baffles me that people aren't shrieking about this thing from rooftops. Favorite track: Trophy Song.
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1.
2.
Echo 03:39
I hope you know this song is not about you. It's not about the time you undressed me with your eyes and it's not about your lips, or the ways in which your hips elucidate the wisdom of your thighs. I hope you know this song goes on forever. It is not merely the procession of these notes. No, the depth from which it springs, it is the source of everything. My method is to do as I am told. And so it is I am an echo, I am a vessel of your truth. Here it is, I am an echo. One voice torn in two. I am a memory of you. I hope you know this song is all I've got left. It is that final thread which is tying down my mind and if you hear it snap it will be followed by a laugh. You can not really lose what you could never find. I hope you know this song is not completed. It is not gliding down some track to its bitter end. No, the movements of the times and the way the stars aligned were not plotted in advance like some silly trend. And yet here it is, I am an echo, I am a vessel of some truth. Here it is, I am an echo. One voice torn in two. I am a memory of you. I wanted you to know that I am thankful for all the ways you've been so kind. You always gave me what I asked for, even when what I asked for was just a waste of time. It was a waste of time. I wasted so much time.
3.
Trophy Song 03:41
I hope your life is a canvas with every kind word the stroke of some artist’s brush. I hope your body’s a campus, educating the young and eager populace. I hope your heart is a planet, dancing in the ballet of gravitational trust. I hope you never understand this mesmerizing and painful Universe. And I can’t tell which came first: This great ocean or this Great Thirst Could you tell me which came first? The master thief or The Woman’s purse? I just can’t tell which came first… And here I am, I am emptying myself. This is greater than any trophy you could fit on your shelf. And there you are, you are emptying yourself. This is greater than any trophy I could fit on my shelf And here we are, we are emptying ourselves. This is greater than any trophy we could fit on our shelves. It’s just us, ourselves.
4.
I’ve been working on this new song that has been worked on one million times before by men much more eloquent than I am. And I’m sure you know it well, it’s about waking up in hell and trying your very best to create heaven. Well, Adam once stood where you stand, my friend. We watched as he fell to the Earth. Eve, too, we all knew her fate in the end. She was a scapegoat from the moment of birth. There’s nothing all that shameful in that. I’ve been working on this new song that has been worked on one million times before by men much more eloquent than I am. I know you know it well. It’s buried deep inside your cells, and it’s crying out like a prophet cries towards heaven. We watched as those Towers of Babylon fell down like twin plums to the Earth and for a moment we heard no one babel on and on about their own self worth. There was something quite honest in that.
5.
I weep for the mothers who bury their sons and I weep for American trash. I weep for this fire blazing in my heart. It turns all your kind words to ash. I weep for you and the things you’re holding on to. I weep for all there’s no pain too great or to small to beckon my love, I reckon that dove still has wings. I weep for the rebirth of Free Love as AIDS and I weep for “bohemian kitsch” I weep for this patchwork of failed promises yeah, I weep for every single stitch. I weep for me, alone in the land of the free. I weep for all. There’s no pain too great or too small to warrant my gaze. It’s abhorrent, these ways that we hide.
6.
I tried hard to be some kind of mystic. I ended up a man in love with himself. The more I look, the more I seem to miss it. My poverty is my only source of wealth. It don’t run out. Do you know where the music goes to die? I hear it’s where your vision meets your eye. Do you know where the music goes to die? I hear it’s where the question is the answer why. I tried hard to find some kind of meaning. I ended up a man in search of himself. Am I standing tall or am I leaning? Is there anyone who can even tell? If so, won’t you call me out? And do you know where the music goes to die? I hear it’s where your vision meets your eye. Do you know where the music goes to die? I hear it’s where the question is the answer why.
7.
I rest assured that all my words add up to less than a single tear in an ocean. And here I stand, a broken man. One more wounded heart kneeling in devotion. I direct my prayer to the lord of motion: “Oh Lord, let me be.” I exchanged my youth for a bit of truth. It sank into my skin like a heavy lotion. And now each day I strip away another lifeless layer of emotion. I direct my prayer to the source of notions: “Oh Source, set me free.” And: “Is this really what you want me to remember? That nothing in this life will last forever?”
8.
Plato's Cave 02:55
I found you in Plato’s cave. You were teaching a class on shadow puppetry. And I went lost inside your gaze. It was the platonic form of empathy. And I still see the rhythms and timbres of your body. And I still hear the shapes of your laughter inside of my ear. Won’t you please let me worship you? Every moment our hero dies and is brought back to life unceasingly. So please don’t tell me another lie. You know Goddamn well you are everything. And I still taste that bittersweet freedom I hardly could face. And I still know that wisdom and dignity down in our bones. There’s a kingdom inside your heart. Hold it up. There isn’t much time. Hold it up. We’re running out of time. Hold it up. We haven’t much time.
9.
I was there when Jesus died, a convoluted suicide. He told me, “No one likes a martyr.” I was there when Hitler cried. Six million tears fell from his eyes. He could not purify that water. It sure seems like that salt was in its nature. I guess no one can look through a perfect mirror. Do you know where I might go for answers? My mama said, “This Earth and its blind fruits are ballet dancers.” And so it goes: Round and round and round and round and round. Just like that, it goes round and round and round and round and round. I was there when Moses sighed. That gust of wind, it kissed the tides and that Red Sea just split like some ancient atom. I was there when Manson tried to cover up his ugly side. He dug a grave inside Manhattan The depths of which no one can fully fathom. I hear his casket is lined in Venetian satin. Do you know where I might go for answers? My mama said, “This Earth and its blind fruits are ballet dancers.” And so it goes: Round and round and round and round and round. Like mama said, it goes round and round and round and round and round. I was there when Heidegger blew open the aperture. I watched his mouth turn into sunlight. I was there when I was there. How much more could one man bare? I witnessed the last great eagle take flight. Her feathers fell like stars across a black night. This somehow curbed my holy appetite. Do you know where I might go for answers? My mamma said, “This Earth and its blind fruits are ballet dancers,” And so it goes: Round and round and round and round and round. Just like that, it goes round and round and round and round and round. Like mamma said, it goes round and round and round and round and round. It’s birth and death, they go round and round and round and round and round.
10.
I never thought I would write some corny love song. I never thought I would feel the way I do. I never thought I would sink into this ocean. The one that carries these words like a raft from me to you. I’ve often been a man of poor intention. I have often found my foot stuck inside my mouth But I will tell you now with absolute conviction I’m as sure of this as those birds when they head south. I love you now and I will love you ‘til the day I die. Come look me right in the eye. I love you now and I will love you ‘til the day I die. I always thought that I was not completed I always felt like some shepherd who lost his staff I always feared I was cosmically cheated I’ve been finding out I was just missing my second half. I love you now and I will love you ‘til the day I die. Come look me right in the eye. I love you now and I will love you ‘til the day I die.
11.
I will not try to look in your eye. If that’s what you wish, I will honor you this: I’ll go blind. Or if you want me to sit and listen to you, I mean, if that’s what you wish, there’s no need to insist, I don’t mind. There is no wrong way through this song. It is already here, let us enter it dear. It won’t bite. This world may not be all we wanted but it’s all we’ve got. And in youth we knew our house was haunted, now we know it’s not. But may your heart stay open and honest and learn what it’s taught. Like this world may not be all we wanted but it’s all we’ve got. Like castles of sand, we built with our hands such beautiful lives. In the blink of an eye they are gone. But please don’t lament. Those tears which you spent, they fell to the Earth. There was a stirring of dirt, then new life. And everyone knows what we seldom disclose. We all wander about trying to drown out our hearts. This world may not be all we wanted but it’s all we’ve got. And in youth we knew our house was haunted, now we know it’s not. But may your heart stay open and honest and learn what it’s taught. Like this world may not be all we wanted but it’s all we’ve got.
12.
Time keeps on slipping through my fingers like an ocean slips right through a paper cup. And every Thursday night I watch the singers down at Cheer Up Charlie's raise their voices up. Those holy, drunken angels wash over me and rid me of the parts I can not clean. The parts of me I cannot stand to look at. The parts of me I wish were just a dream. And everyone I've met has been an arrow, pointing me to where I need to go Everyone I've met has been an arrow piercing me right down into my bones. Like those punk rock, suburban girls with their Betty Boop, cartoon-curls and their bouquets of neon light. They sip from the flask of night. I pray they will grow up strong, hear hope in the bleakest of songs May they find peace. Time keeps on plucking on my heartstrings. Writing all the songs I never could. It pats me on the head and whispers, "Darling, there's so much more to music than sounding good." That ancient, heavy burden is lifted then and suddenly this world has taken form. Every single fleck of dust starts dancin' to the songs which now I know I must perform. If life is just a chain of many failures, then failing I will do with all my heart. If life is just a chain of many failures then failing will become my highest art. Those mustached and tattooed boys with their craft beers and other toys, they discuss all those sacred truths buried deep inside Sonic Youth. I know they will die some day and I too will go away. This brings me peace. I've found my peace. What a strange peace. But it's my peace.

about

"I am the rest between two notes,
which are somehow always in discord
because Death’s note wants to climb over—
but in the dark interval, reconciled,
they stay there trembling.
And the song goes on, beautiful.”
-Rainer Maria Rilke

*********************************************************

credits

released December 2, 2014

Thanks to Philip Woodbury, Marcus Rubio, Emily Allen, James Lavery, Gianni Sarmiento, Joey Reyes, Ray Flynt, Hanna Campbell, and Evan Kaspar for your creative and generous contributions to the arrangements of these songs.


Engineered and mixed by Cory Dennis at Magic Ranch Studios
Kyle, Texas

Mastered by Jerry Tubb at Terra Nova Digital Audio, Inc.
Austin, Texas



****************************************************************************


PRESS:

"...It’s gratifying to see Squires come so far as an artist in such a short space of time. He alone proves that DIY artists can create art to rival the products of major labels, with neatly-arranged, delicate instrumentation coming together with lyrics that lament an insecurity from being caught between fantasy and reality, and with enough meta self-awareness to stave off toxic, self-absorbed pretence. Simply put, [Where The Music Goes To Die] is Squires’ triumph..."

-Drunken Werewolf Magazine (Full review here: www.drunkenwerewolf.com/reviews/matthew-squires-learning-disorders-music-goes-die/ )

*****

"...Guitars shimmy and shake while upbeat percussive melodies bounce around the room, and Squires' words echo between your ears. Love, loss, and the joy and uncertainty of the world around us become emotional fodder for this collection of intimate and often-quixotic songs..."

-Nooga.com (Full review here: www.nooga.com/168487/listening-post-four-records-you-should-hear-this-week/ )

*****

"...a nice collection of lyrical indie pop..."

-Brooklyn Vegan (Full review here: www.brooklynvegan.com/austin/2014/12/matthew_squires.html )

*****

The song "Echo" was included in Largehearted Boy's 'Daily Downloads' segment.

(Full list here: www.largeheartedboy.com/blog/archive/2014/12/daily_downloads_3920.html )

*****

"...These songs contain smooth memorable melodies and intelligent lyrics...and they are delivered with personality and style..."

-BabySue.com (Full review here: babysue.com/2014-Dec-LMNOP-Reviews.html#anchor240183 )

*****

"...DIY pop at its best."

-Deadly Music (Full list here: www.feckingdeadly.com/matthew-squires-learning-disorders-music-goes-die/ )

*****

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Matthew Squires Austin, Texas

I think, all things considered, the songs I write are much more listenable than the songs I don't write.

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