Ornery, Abandoned, & Awry

by Gregory Dean McIntosh

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about

Right after I was laid off in March 2011, I recorded these demos on Matt Jones's 8-track with a ridiculous and ramshackle set-up that I pieced together in our dining room. I had only one microphone (which meant doing the drums piece by piece instead of playing them as a kit) and a thousand beers (which means the mixes and performances are kind of bizarre and the vocals and horns are out of tune in places). I'm not apologizing for that. I like 'em this way and after two years of sitting on them, I finally realized that they are what they are and I'll likely never re-record any of them so I may as well let them out of the pen whether they're ready for society or not. Have at 'em.

"The Great Fictioneer" and "Maybe Rachel's Right" were pretty new at the time of recording. The others are all very old, between 1998 and 2002. All songs were recorded between March and July 2011.

credits

released May 18, 2013

GDM: guitar, baritone, bass, drums, cornet, clarinet, pedal steel, toy piano, vocals

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Gregory Dean McIntosh Ypsilanti, Michigan

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Track Name: Time, Part One
Our time is sanctioned to the wheel,
a revolving concept clicked by quartz,
and if I can reconcile all the facets of denial,
I will ride that wheel without remorse.

All the lonely and the loveless in our town
will call out my name if I've been drinking
because though they cling too tight, when I'm drunk I don't fight or flight
We recognize our own, we're a recognizable sort.

Later on when I see them around
I admit sometimes I'll avert my eyes.
So I'm synonymous with “fool” and the subject of sighs,
but really what do I have to lose?

Now with each year that marches on
I own more of my troubles with a drink
So the money's always tight and the memories are light
and etched into the pages with all the ink I ever chanced to buy

Now I see more of them around town
and I think that I might lose my mind.
Maybe so, maybe not, but I know that I've got
to put myself in line.
Track Name: West Huron
West Huron is churning, oh it's churning. It's churning with the fishtails. It's churning with bald radials. You've got to open up both eyes until they salt a path down the drive. West Huron is burning up. It is burning with the angry mouths. It is burning on the cellular phones. You've got to open up both eyes until they salt a path down the drive.
Track Name: Old Midwestern Town
Well, it rained. It rained out all the worms today turning tree bark dark as charcoal and with your guitar, while I was spinning you a yarn, my tongue burst open in my mouth and sent my intentions spinning south. Still you bailed me out.

Summer, summer ended in her Spanish letter with all her truths written in simpleton. With it I assumed the melancholy croon of the contemptuous broken down in a small midwestern town. We are weighted down when we wait around.

And we move as slowly as the heartbeats of the brutal winters that tear our town in two. We let libations fill our stories as we stumble down the brick roads that whisper history of the days when labor fell to harm and wove a lavish yarn into a small midwestern town.
Track Name: The Great Fictioneer
She curses him out anytime I am near. Yeah she snarls and pouts and claims he's insincere. And with her latest turn, the great fictioneer does adjourn and bids adieu. For what it's worth, the picture she presents is one we all see through.

One day he'll call her bluff and up and disappear, but for now it's enough to be her souvenir. If she had a clue, the great fictioneer would pursue and burn the doubt, but for all she invents, the picture she presents is one we can do without.

And with all her scorn, her fears and insecurities do swarm. She's carved apart and she's transformed. She's turning, turning taciturn.

If she had a clue, the great fictioneer would pursue and burn the doubt, but for all she invents, the picture she presents is one we can do without. It's one we'll do without.
Track Name: Maybe Rachel's Right
For fourteen years I have known my passions would replace my home, but Rachel says it's her heart of stone that shattered my glass world. Oh.

What the fuck does Rachel know?

When she left the apartment bare, I moved myself into myself and though I had known the cupboard and the crumbs, I'd never had to learn to be so lonesome.

So I moved myself into my car and for five long months there I did stay. For five long months I asked myself, "What if Rachel's right? What if I cannot move on this time? What if tonight I cannot find a place to sleep?"