Finally. Long arduous process, but it's finally here. Limited run. There's only 30 of these things. Get 'em. Digipack. All typography and photography is courtesy of Allen Rapadas! All illustrations are by my dear friend Shon Kopimi! All layout design is Steve Kitchen at COMBINATION13! The model on the disc is Kelsie Grant, and the lovely naked lady is Rianne Brundlefly Keel from Riannaconda Burlesque & Other Arts!
Includes unlimited streaming of Centerfolds
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
I swore to myself many years ago that I would never be so narcissistic that I would write songs about girls.
This EP is me breaking that promise to myself.
I grew up, so did my tastes, and so too did my convictions. I had my heart broken three times in two months by three different women, and this was the only way I could cope with it. I love all of the girls in these songs, and I always will. They have made me who I am today, and for that I am thankful.
It is called "Centerfolds" because these women were, at one time, some of the "main features" of my romantic and platonic lives, so you could say. All three had an unhealthy obsession with image, and all three had an unhealthy obsession with male attention.
This whole album was recorded, mixed and produced in the two days before its release in my mom's basement, on my little brother's computer. I am recently the victim of a robbery and my entire means of recording and producing instrumentals myself have been stalled until I can afford a new computer and hardware. With that in mind, it features stolen riffs and loops from MF DOOM, Plastic Constellations and The Beastie Boys.
I did not ask for permission from any of them, so do not give me any money without donating to them first. I did only a small amount of production on this. All instrumental credits go to these artists, not me.
Hopefully they'll understand that I need to resort to thievery in times of desperation to make songs happen, and that new hip-hop artists are hungry for good production. These are three of the most amazing instrumentals that I've ever heard, and I never thought I'd be able to do them justice. I just hope that if they ever discover these, I receive their blessings.
I am happy with the outcome.
Hell, because I got this out of me, I am just happy.
released 25 July 2013
Christoph "Slut" Leon - Vocals, Recording, Production, Mixing, Mastering
All instrumentals by MF DOOM, Plastic Constellations, and The Beastie Boys.
Only girl I know,
Who when I met her had two wolves,
And wouldn't let either of 'em go.
Keeping them at bay,
Only to wave a steak,
In front of their face,
And wonder why they wouldn't tame.
Thanks for letting me into your home,
It's been some time since I had a mind of my own to blow,
Then I found out that you collected marbles,
'Cause you lost your own a long time ago.
I see you've seen some pain,
That much is a given,
But you'd have to be insane to do what you do for a livin'.
I wanna break that pump,
From that cage you keep,
I'd love to make the jump this stage is too steep,
The apathy you're getting from your liberal friends,
Makes me wanna climb a building and fall from you in a literal sense.
You're bound to rebound, as Big D says,
"What is lost can always be found."
You say you're sick of being treated like a piece of meat,
Yet you sell yourself by the pound.
Apathy has to be half of the reason why,
Your empathy atrophied, wheezed then died.
Hell hath no fury, that much is true,
But the wrath you put on me is meant for you.
You make my head light,
You make my jaw drop,
Usually a red light means you oughta stop,
So clench your teeth,
Until your jaw locks,
Then clench your -,
On top of my -,
Pull the wool over those eyes,
And those lips from that porcelain,
Don't believe the lies your ego forced you in.
Track Name: Simulated Grout
I've got an infinite number of questions,
That I've grown quite tired of askin',
The negative attention of non-gentlemen is not something that you should bask in.
Your over-eager confessions,
Keep me from prying,
To hear equivocative bad memories,
Is that kinder than lying?
So I appreciate the effort,
And I thank you for trying,
But don't act surprised when I can't keep from...
...Having something in my eye.
It really stings because it feels like a hole where an apple once was.
What's that noise?
Do you heart that?
I think your subconscious is trying to tell you something,
It was just a suggestive text with a request to show breasts while you do that one thing...
...That one thing,
That any girl can do,
To make any guy in the world fall for you.
I've made more than eye-contact with you,
So I'm skeptical,
They don't find you attractive,
They find you susceptible,
And for you,
They found you,
So you go easily,
Things in the lost and found are usually free.
I'm sick you combatting that past,
With staying true to your convictions,
Stop being a victim,
Your little black book is full of fiction.
You want to fill gap emotionally,
So you fill the gap physically,
You fill the gap between relationships with relationships,
You've always been an invertebrate,
So there's no suspense,
When I say you confuse the arrogance of others as confidence.
You can never learn to love someone that you never spend time with,
You are not an exception to this.
At this rate you'll die cold and alone,
Having never figured it out,
You'll be remembered for how you lived and acted,
Which to me will always be grout.
Track Name: New Zealand
New Zealand won't even be alive by the time I finish this song,
Not a schism beyond neuroticism, everything in her life was wrong,
The only fate you have ever been doomed to,
Was falsely believing that fate doomed you.
You've grown to be a cold bitch,
I guess we the have ice to thank for that,
Your self-sewn voodoo-doll throne stitch,
Hides behind those nice new tats,
So put that needle in,
Pushin' in that medicine,
Why are you so scared of a soul?
I guess that's what black tar was made for,
So go ahead and fill that hole.
Take off the circumstance-victim circus-pants,
And give your rational brain-circuits a chance,
Veto the need to feed it and please go,
The opposite of that fame you lust after,
The must-have you just had ain't robust laughter,
You know not,
The blown shots that flow through that hole that won't clot,
Before you go drop,
Before you grow rot,
On that brain in your head,
Or even end up dead...
Isn't it ironic,
A little bit, maybe,
That the book I wrote this song in was the only gift you gave me.
You weigh the success of ya anoerexia,
And earn a superficial slumber,
Even though you'll see me no more,
I don't mean contact info when I say you should lose those numbers.
We all fall down,
But follow through with the fall and you end up in the ground,
Not to condescend,
But wait 'til then,
If you think I look down on you now.
What an excellent nickname you found,
Practically already down under... ground.
You say it's your mind, your body, your life, your health,
But I can't keep watching you killing yourself,
You say that any real friends would just accept what you do,
If you had any real friends, they would leave too.
Go ahead and candy-coat, hit that horse, and put on more gloss,
It fucking pains me to say this:
But I have been forced to already mourn your loss.
Make no mistake,
It ain't out of hate,
That this life of yours I walk out of...
Make no mistake,
It ain't out of hate,
That this walk I take is out of love.