STATEMENT OF PURPOSE (THE MOVING)

EVERYONE!

We're are moving Hosts for so many reasons!

Our new blog is and will forever be at http://tfrjournal.wordpress.com/!

Please! Go there and expect to find (soon) more Photos! Videos! Posts! Recording Journals! And Rough Home Recordings!

And, Finally: This blog will disappear just as soon as I can move all of its contents to

HTTP://TFRJOURNAL.WORDPRESS.COM.

Thank You.

"WINDFALL INHERITANCE" IS DEAD. LONG-LIVE "WINDFALL INHERITANCE"

SIMPLY PUT, "Windfall Inheritance" as we were expecting it, is Dead. It will not happen the way we were thinking. SIMPLY PUT, we have shelved it.

SIMPLY PUT, "Windfall Inheritance" will now happen this way: Our Manager played our rough masters for Johnny Montagnese at Carriage House Studios, and in short order, he told us to shelve the whole record, SIMPLY. Then, he cleared his throat, and offered to take us on formally, to produce 4 songs.

This is huge (SIMPLY PUT). He works with people who work with The New Pornographers. His studio made The PIXIES' "Doolittle" record. We have been lead to believe that this deal with Carriage House will create Possibilities Beyond Our Understanding.

So, SIMPLY PUT: This week, we are entering Carriage House Studios in Stamford. At the end of that day, we will have 4 wholly-produced songs. Johnny Montagnese will be capital-p Producing us. SIMPLY PUT, expect a 7-song EP early in the Winter Months called "Windfall Inheritance". More updates to come.

LYRICS TO OUR FIRST EP

THE FIRST EP

I. LIVING IN TONGUES

II. HARLEM, WAIT YOUR TURN

(UNTIL THE DEVELOPERS ARE FINISHED WITH BROOKLYN)

III. (A CALL & RESPONSE) OF LIGHT BULBS & EXPECTANCY

IV. "WAIT, WHAT'S THAT FROM?"

LYRICS

I. direct transcription: LIVING IN TONGUES: We re drowning in Personal Histories / And it s all boiling down on me / We re speaking in monologue and I m suffering / I m an ex-pat who s been stuck at home for years / “There was a story that began: / There was a story that began: / There was a story that began… “ / How can we remember it? / We are a swindled dishonesty / And it s all boiling down on me / We re living in a slanted dichotomy / Between things we accept and those we should be / “There was a story that began: / There was a story that began: / There was a story that began… “ / How can we remember it? / “There was a story that began: / There was a story that began… ” / There was a story, there was a story it begins again and again / We can make, make up the ending

end transcription

II. DIRECT TRANSCRIPTION: HARLEM, WAIT YOUR TURN (UNTIL THE DEVELOPERS ARE FINISHED WITH BROOKLYN): All our maps will get wider / All our maps will get wider / We will draw those lines ever heavier / We will build up new Towers of Babel / All our maps will get wider / We will draw those lines ever heavier / We will build up new Towers of Babel / And our windowpanes will cover oceans / All our maps (All our maps, all our maps, all our maps) will get wider (Ever wider, ever wider) / All our maps (All our maps, all our maps, all our maps) will get wider (Ever wider, ever wider) / All our maps (All our maps, all our maps, all our maps) will get wider (Ever wider, ever wider) / All our maps (All our maps, all our maps, all our maps) will get wider! (Wider!) Wider! (Wider!) Wider! (Wider!) Wider! (Wider!)

DIRECT TRANSCRIPTION

III. DIRECT TRANSCRIPTION: (A CALL & RESPONSE) OF LIGHT BULBS & EXPECTANCY: She said “Show yourself.” Oh what a commotion! / “How many lives do you live?” / She said “You re living with skeletons” / The closets are filling with the bones of ex s / Taped to the underside of a medicine cabinet / An old-key answer to the smoke-filled questions / It s never just one word / It s never just one word / It s never just one word / I d love to say those words / But it feels what brings them has just been broken down / Into all these guarded, caustic, impassive pieces / Into all these backwards, debased up-turned, straight-faced pieces / I want to write about hair, teeth and eyes / I want to write about hair, teeth and eyes / I want to write about hair, hair, teeth and eyes / What s left for us? / Is this just another thing I ll never get to see: / Two people who will never leave / Two people who will never, never leave / I want to write about hair, teeth and eyes / I want to write about hair, teeth and eyes / I want to write about hair, hair, teeth and eyes

END TRANSCRIPTION

IV. DIRECT TRANSCRIPTION: “WAIT WHAT S THAT FROM?”: And the TV / Is more dangerous than / Never turning it On / Because it s burning off / All our discussion / And we re speaking / Little more than quotations / Because we re bending from / Sixty years of / Sweeps Week Simulacrum / We speak with used-up tongues / We speak with second-hand lungs / We speak with used-up tongues / We speak with second-hand lungs / We speak with used-up tongues / We speak with second-hand lungs / We speak with used-up tongues / We speak with second-hand lungs / Oh second-hand lungs / Oh second-hand lungs / We re going to change the channel / And we re going to / Broadcast all their returns / Just to show you / What we re in it for / And we ll never / Air a thing with / All their signals / On our air / We ll cast the loudest anger / We re speaking with used-up tongues / We re speaking with second-hand lungs / We re speaking with used-up tongues / We re speaking with second-hand lungs / We re speaking with used-up tongues / We re speaking with second-hand lungs / We re speaking with used-up tongues / We re speaking with second-hand lungs / OH SECOND-HAND LUNGS / OH SECOND-HAND LUNGS / Because we ll repeat it / Our conversations / From the TV set / From the TV set / From the TV set / From the TV set

END TRANSCRIPTION

ALL LYRICS COPYRIGHT2009DANGALLO

EXCEPT #II COPYRIGHT2009DANGALLO

&JAREDTHOMPSON

LETTER TO THE MTA INRE: OUR 3:36PM TRAIN TO GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL

To whom it should concern:

Let it be known, first and foremost, that this is a "refund request letter." I am hoping that by using what follows I will bind you to my plight--but if it does not produce an actual, monetary refund, I am at least letting you know that you will sit eternally and forever on the wrong side of Justice and Beauty.

To continue, my brother and I stepped onto a 3:36pm train at 3:42pm at South Norwalk with one goal: Making it to the Williamsburg Waterfront by 6pm--in time to see a band called the Dirty Projectors. We figured we had plenty of time by way of your 70 minute train to Grand Central Terminal (a train, I notice, which used to take 55 minutes. But--I can only assume--this extension of the ride is some kind of Bargain Promotion. Think of it--15 more minutes of Train Scenery for the completely un-adjusted ticket price of $9.75?) So, we found two cramped half-seats at the left-hand-dead-middle of one of the cars and settled into our books and personal thinkings.

We started moving.

Then--Rowayton!

Next stop--Harlem/125th Street!

We are elated!

We are swelled with motion and the air our train whips behind us is throwing us into the World!

And then...

We are stopped. Our swirling Millennia of passed forceful men from our family have all, at once, been denied their Want: Motion.

We sit--are sitting.

We are told it will only be a few minutes (in the Marketing Arm of Capitalism, this is a true statement, we believe--"We have paid you with the profits from the proud and sober work of our backs--we have done right by you, in short, so that you will do right by us.")

After 15 minutes, we are told to hang tight.

"Oh, God!" we think, "we are now in the grips of Bureaucracy!"

I am trying to stay calm. After all, I rode this line twice a day, four days a week, for almost two whole semesters at a city college, and the trains, even when beleaguered, always got me where I needed to be. And besides--we have plenty of time.

No cell reception to call my girlfriend who waits for us on the Other Side (and would continue to wait faithfully until 6:30, sundress limping under the Midtown heat).

Then, the lights and air conditioning go off--come back--go off. The added heat of ninety bodies gives our modest half-back seats a new feeling of restriction.

On and on--we sit.

Vague announcements come and make us feel nothing.

Nothing happens.

And nothing happened for sixty minutes.

In short, after waiting for an hour, forced to squander a shining Sunday afternoon, at 5pm--at this point it was abundantly clear we were missing our show--another train arrived.

But by now, even at the sight of the new train, the MTA had made Nihilists of us all--we no longer believed in Salvation.

Then, in thirty minutes, we were standing, broke-backed and broke-spirited on our new train we were promised would work, regardless of the fact that it looked just as crest-fallen as our last one. But, as soon as we were all onboard after having to single-file (and in our case, Noah's Ark) over two ramps that were so conveniently placed at either extreme of the train--we were off again! And with only thirty minutes to get to Williamsburg-by-way-of-Grand Central!

You, Benevolent Eye of the Complaint Department, already know what happened.

We got to our destination at 6:30--a scant three-hour ride!

Our show missed, we turned on each other: My brother, knowing about my letter writing, told me I could write a strongly-worded letter to his ass. His nerves and ubiquitous smile had both soured by the weight of Time.

In closing, I know that Fate is not within the Jurisdiction of the Metro Transit Authority, but I say: We are living in a time in which the promise of Fulfillment lies only in those we pay, and so the buck has to stop somewhere down the line.

So, I am asking for a full reimbursement of our two round-trip Off-Peak tickets, totaling thirty-nine dollars. Not including the emotional and spiritual distress suffered at the hands of the touchie-feelie, short-haired yuppie couple that sat in front of us.

Sincerely,

DANIEL GALLO.

***

I will post their response if and when I get one.

THE (UNDERLINED) WASTE LAND

NOTICE

This is a crude cut-up of lines that I liked enough to underline in

T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land And Other Poems. If anything, the exercise

says more about The Reader than The Writer. Line #s have been provided

for easy citation. O Workshop'd Sarcasms!

DAN.

*

"THE (UNDERLINED) WASTE LAND"

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

I have measured out my life in coffee spoons;

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets

And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?

I should have been a pair of ragged claws

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

10

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

* * *

With the other masquerades

That time resumes, 20

One thinks of all the hands

That are raising dingy shades

In a thousand furnished rooms.

The conscience of a blackened street

Impatient to assume the world.

I am moved by fancies that are curled

Around these images, and cling:

THE NOTION OF SOME INFINITELY GENTLE 30

INFINITELY SUFFERING THING.

Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;

The worlds revolve like ancient women

Gathering fuel in vacant lots.

* * *

Thou hast nor youth nor age

But as it were an after dinner sleep 40

Dreaming of both.

A dull head among windy spaces.

After such knowledge, what forgiveness?

Guides us by vanities.

Till the refusal propagates a fear. Think

Neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural Vices 50

Are fathered by our heroism. Virtues

Are forced upon us by our impudent crimes.

These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree.

Tenants of the house,

Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season.

* * *

Maculate 60

The host with someone indistinct

Converses at the door apart,

The nightingales are singing near

The Convent of the Sacred Heart,

And sang within the bloody wood

When Agamemnon cried aloud,

And let their liquid siftings fall

To stain the stiff dishonoured shroud.

[Note: Have I just been shut out? 70

Is all this language/meaning

Unavailable to me b/c of my

Birthday?]

* * *

I.

Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:

One must be so careful these days.

80

I had not thought death had undone so many.

II.

He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave you to get yourself some teeth.

HURRY UP/ITS TIME

III.

She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,

And puts a record on the gramophone. 90

IV.

And the profit and loss.

V.

But dry sterile thunder without rain

"Datta, dayadhvam, damyata"

(Give, Sympathize, Control).

434. Shantih. Repeated as here, a formal ending to 100

an Upanishad. "The Peace which passeth understanding"

is our equivalent to this word.

* * *

I no longer strive to strive towards such things

Why should I mourn

The VANISHED POWER OF THE USUAL REIGN?

[Note: Dead-On.]

110

BECAUSE I KNOW THAT TIME IS ALWAYS TIME

And place is always and only place

And what is actual is actual only for one time

And only for one place

I rejoice that things are as they are and

I renounce the blessed face.

Speech without word and Word of no speech.

This is the land which ye 120

Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity

Matters. THIS IS THE LAND. WE HAVE OUR INHERITANCE.

[Note: How Many times are stairs mentioned?

And, he's always coming down them...]

O my people.

Wavering between the profit and the loss

This is the time of tension between dying and birth

And let my cry come unto Thee. 130

* * *

This: were we led all that way for

Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,

We had evidence and

no doubt. I had seen birth and death,

But had thought they were different;

this Birth was

Hard and bitter agony for us, 140

like Death, our death.

We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,

But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,

With an alien people clutching their gods.

I should be glad of another death.

* * *

Iron thoughts came with me

And go with me: 150

" "

* * *

O perpetual revolution of configured stars,

O perpetual recurrence of determined seasons,

O world of spring and autumn, birth and dying!

The endless cycle of idea and action,

Endless invention, endless experiment,

160

All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance,

But nearness to death no nearer to G O D.

Where is the Life we have lost living?

Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries

Bring us farther from G O D and nearer to Dust. 170

In the City, we need no bells:

...the country now is only fit for picnics.

The God-shaken,

In whom is the truth inborn.

The applause of all or the love of none.

What has been done of good, you find explanations

To satisfy the RATIONAL and ENLIGHTENED MIND. 180

Where the word is unspoken,

We will build with new speech

From farther away, they are answered by voices of the U N E M P L O Y E D .

No man has hired us.

Our life is unwelcome, our death Unmentioned in 'The Times'.

Chant of W O R K M E N again.

In this street 190

There is no beginning, no movement, no peace and no end

But noise without speech, food without taste...

WE BUILD THE MEANING:

Or shall the Visible Church go on to conquer the World?

In our rhythm of earthly life we tire of light.

We are glad when the day ends, when the play ends;

And ecstasy is too much pain.

We tire of distraction or concentration, we sleep and are glad to sleep,

CONTROLLED BY THE RHYTHM OF BLOOD 200

O Light Invisible!

O LIGHT!

TOTAL NEWS UPDATE

DEAR EVERYONE:

I know this kind of post directly conflicts with the audacious STATEMENT OF PURPOSE to your Right, but I say, Whatever. This is the easiest and best-looking way to post any kind of News, and a lot has been piling up.

SO.

I. "WINDFALL INHERITANCE": Here's the deal with our album which, if you've bought our Single, you were expecting (sic) last month. After many mixes and re-mixes, done lovingly by Ryan Ball at The Gearbox, the mixes are Finalized. We will be expecting the Master Discs in the mail, along with Jared's forgotten coat, this week. At the same time, we are working on finishing the album artwork, which was lovingly and patiently done in her own hand by Hilary Florido. The Back cover image & text is Done. The cover image is Done. The hand-written text, however, is Not Done. The hand-written lyrics & liner notes are Not Done. We're hoping to get these done This Week. At which point, we will put together a polite Advertisement and post it Everywhere (including here). Then, we have to mail the Master Copies off to Oasis CD Duplication for Mastering & Duplication. Once they have everything, we should expect 1,000 copies of our CD by the End Of This Month. THE FINAL PRODUCT will be hand-numbered, full-color, and come packaged with Supplemental Artworks, which will be printed onto Acetates (the pictures themselves will be of Floating Labels, Naked Diagrams, & Heavily Annotated Graphs). Expect abundant photos of Everything Discussed Afore.

II. SHOWS: We have one on the last day of This Month at The Delancey in NYC. On the Pentultimate Middle Day of Next Month, we are playing The Trash Bar in Brooklyn, NYC. And, if anyone out there has any SHOWS or TOURS or ANYTHING open to us, please write TheFieldRecordings@gmail.com. All the info for these shows will be posted on our MySpace: www.myspace.com/thefieldrecordings.

III. TWITTER: Let's keep this short and without any of that Tried & True Lofty Spite. Suffice it to say, we are on Twitter, our name is @FIELDRECORDERS, and the URL is http://twitter.com/FIELDRECORDERS. And, there is a Feed posted on your Right.

SO.

Thank you for reading. Please, keep up with us if you like, because there's a lot more coming.

THE FIELD RECORDERS.

LYRICS TO "STATESCAPES" SINGLE

STOP-GAP SINGLE

I. STATESCAPES

II. THE AWKWARD CIRCUIT BOARDS

     (OR, LOOK OUT: I THINK I'M GOING TO FEEL)

III. STATESCAPES [LIVE]

LYRICS

I.  DIRECT TRANSCRIPTION: STATESCAPES: I I I KNOW WHAT WHAT WE SAY BUT WE LEAVE IT TO THE CHURCH & THE HANDS-OUT-INDUSTRY / I I I KNOW WHAT WHAT WE SAY BUT WE LEAVE IT TO THE CHURCH & THE HANDS-OUT-INDUSTRY / BECAUSE I I I KNOW HOW HOW WE LIVE WE SING LA LA LA LA LA LA / LA LA LA LA LA / IF IRONY S REALLY DEAD IT S SO FUNNY / YOU STILL DON T MEAN WHAT YOU SAY / IF IRONY S REALLY DEAD IT S SO FUNNY / I STILL DON T MEAN WHAT I SAY / OH WHAT I SAY / I M I M I M TRYING I M TRYING TO STRIKE YOU LIKE A MATCH FROM A DEAD BOOK / I M I M I M TRYING I M TRYING TO STRIKE YOU LIKE A MATCH FROM A DEAD DEAD BOOK / BECAUSE I I I KNOW HOW HOW WE LIVE WE SING LA LA LA LA LA LA / LA LA LA LA LA / IF IRONY S REALLY DEAD IT S SO FUNNY / YOU STILL DON T MEAN WHAT YOU SAY / IF IRONY S REALLY DEAD IT S SO FUNNY / OH I STILL DON T MEAN WHAT I SAY / OH WHAT I SAY / OH OH WE SET UP PHOTOSHOOTS FOR MEMORIES / OH OH WE SET UP PHOTOSHOOTS FOR MEMORIES / OH OH WE SET UP PHOTOSHOOTS FOR MEMORIES / OH OH WE SET UP PHOTOSHOOTS FOR MEMORIES / OH OH WHOA WHOA / WE RE FULL OF HEAT & IT S 1951 AT NIGHT / WE RE FULL OF HEAT & IT S 1951 AT NIGHT / WE RE FULL OF HEAT & IT S 1951 AT NIGHT / WE RE FULL OF HEAT & IT S 1951 AT NIGHT

END TRANSCRIPTION

II.  DIRECT TRANSCRIPTION: THE AWKWARD CIRCUIT BOARDS (OR, LOOK OUT:  I THINK I M GOING TO FEEL): I M ATTENDING UNIVERSITY WHILE THE WORLD IS ENDING / THE WANT IS GOING TO KILL ME / I VE NO OUTLET  I M A  CLOSED CIRCUIT / OH I HAVE NO OUTLET / I M THE PERFECT MODEL OF AN AD CAMPAIGN / ABOUT SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY: / MY HEART S NO LONGER IN IT BUT I USED TO LOOK SO GOOD ON PAPER BEFORE / THE BAND IS GOING DOWN SO NOW WE STRIKE UP THE SHIP / WE HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE BUT TO / SAIL ON TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / OH WE LL FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / I M THE PERFECT MODEL OF AN AD CAMPAIGN / ABOUT SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY: / MY HEART S NO LONGER IN IT BUT I USED TO LOOK SO GOOD ON PAPER BEFORE / EVERY BODY IS A CLOSED CIRCUIT / EVERY BODY IS A CLOSED CIRCUIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL TILL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT / WE LL SAIL UNTIL WE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO HIT

END TRANSCRIPTION

ALL LYRICS COPYRIGHT2009DANGALLO

A REMINDER & TWO POPULAR HEARTS