Moral Straightjacket

by Moral Straightjacket

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  • S/t cassette
    Cassette + Digital Album

    Seven tracks on cassette - Moral Straightjacket EP on side A and Behind the Orange Curtain EP on side B.

    23 copies were made of this cassette.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Moral Straightjacket via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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02:17
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03:43
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04:08
7.
05:18

about

Moral Straightjacket come from Irvine, California. The band is John and Lucas.

Side A of this tape (tracks 1-4) is the self-titled Moral straightjacket EP. Recorded, mixed, mastered by Eric Mileham at Noise Pollution Studios, Anaheim, CA: Oct, 2013.

Side B (tracks 5-7) is Behind the Orange Curtain. Recorded in Daniel’s mom’s garage, West Covina, CA: June, 2013. Mixed drunkenly by Lucas at House of Debauchery, Irvine, CA: July, 2013. Mastered at Noise Pollution Studios, Anaheim, CA by Eric Mileham: Aug., 2014.

This is available on cassette on ruined smile on a run of 23 copies. This is rs005.

The tape can also be ordered at the store linked on the right hand side of this page.

****Any folk in Europe who want to get hold of a copy of this without international postage rates, please feel free to message me via the Contact button on the right hand side of this page. I will be back in London around Christmas and can post it from there.****

credits

released November 14, 2014

Cover photo taken by John.

Tape and cover artwork design by Evan.

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about

ruined smile records Brisbane, Australia

DIY label based in Brisbane, Australia via London, UK.

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Track Name: Kona dreams
I went out to a place called Club Drive
Missed the off-ramp, drove too far down the 5
These days I don’t mind the wait
But I hope you’re at home
Wondering, “Why is he late?”

Here I am

I pulled up and the sky was dark
Your complex didn’t want me to park
I circled around for a couple of times
I thought up some jokes,
And some saucy one-lines

I came back from a place called Club Drive
The stars were out and the hills were alive
I wanted to know how much they would glow
So I turned off my headlights
And headed for home

Kona Dreams

She grasped at my throat
She shared her home
But it wasn’t her own
So I’m headed for home

Kona Dreams

A glass of warm welcome
Swallowed and ate
She reached for my throat
But it was too late

Just Kona Dreams
Track Name: Irvine problem
Flight booked overseas as your message waits for me
Now time has gone; you'll receive no response from me
Waiting patiently, as I was wont to do
Drowning hopefully - that my words will return to you

Now you're all alone as I travel far from home
Memories rattle in your bones that I'd rather leave alone
New pasts and new futures wait behind closed doors
Old pasts and old futures wait for me behind yours

Now I'm all alone as I travel far from home
Memories rattle in my bones that I wished you'd left alone
New pasts and new futures wait behind closed doors
Old pasts and old futures wait for me behind yours

Drowning hopefully, again
Track Name: Tempe solution
I awake slamming foot to brake; same damn nightmare, same damn mistakes
If the stress doesn't take me it will certainly break me as I stare at the screen and inspiration forsakes me
Wishing it could burn out my eyes like the sun so I could put down this book and at last be done
But I'd probably just buy a fancy new pair and throw myself back into this pointless despair

I've turned to see myself but I don't see my self
I've improved myself but haven't improved my self
I'm exhausted myself and I've exhausted my self
I'm lost myself and I've lost my self

And here's my reward for a lifetime of study; a plate full of misery served with a side of humility
It would taste just fine if I could take it to-go because meals only make sense when enjoyed alone
I hate this office almost blindly at night as sleep and fatigue literally cloud my sight
But at least I know just what I want, this is exactly what I want

I've turned to see myself but I don't see my self
I've improved myself but haven't improved my self
I'm exhausted myself and I've exhausted my self
I'm lost myself and I've lost my self
Track Name: 12/28/71
Not as sweet as the rest of the Orange,
But a bitter peel; the cast away parts
And all that could have been, yearns to escape
Through efforts of constant development
A humble hope to coax pleasant chaos
From a neutrality, burdened by peace

Basic break in an acidic county
A patient place where patient people wait
Not as stale as those places with culture
But a fresh babe: young and bare forever
A hairless boy...to a smooth skinned adult
And all that could have been, waits, trapped within
Through errors of cyclic development
Of a planned place, the slave to one Master
An historical hush from a loud land,
Draped with orange curtains

What will we learn from this application?

What will we learn from its institutions?

Basic break in an acidic county
A patient place where patient people wait
And then in waiting: dream to wait again
Content development, looping circles
A handsome shell, hollow; save for ideals
Places that scrape old pulp from older peel
An historical hush from a loud land,
Draped with orange curtains

“You’ll see, I tried.”

Through errors of cyclic development
Track Name: Abd
There is a god, an ethereal god
There is a god, a material god
There is a god and I serve Him, this inconsistent god
There is a god and I resent him, this repressive god

There is a man, a good man, but still an ignorant man
There is a man, a flawed man, but an educated man
There is a man, not free, tied to the land and beliefs passed down
There is a man, not free, tied to the books in which knowledge is found


There is a plan, passed down from God to man
There is a plan, attributed to God but made by man
There is a plan, and it has enserfed this man
There is a plan, and it has ensnared this man
Track Name: Brittle bone
I fear that I’m inadequate
In everything that I fear
Phallic guilt in a sleepy land
My brittle bone gets a tan

Onanistic thoughts repeat
Repeat
Seeds spent, spilling at my feet
Familiar dream of beach again

Tan prayer rug thrown on holy sand
Prostrate chants, for “unclean man”
While brittle bone lies out to tan
I feel the crumbling of face

The part that speaks erased
Completely caved in
Completely caved in


Familiar dream of beach again
Tan prayer rug thrown on holy sand
Prostrate chants for “unclean man”
While brittle bone lies out to tan

Unknown guilt, clenching hands
The hunched hermit raises eye
And prays to fading summer sky
Blur fear and blind contempt

For everything that man laments
Grey, brittle bone, tanned