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Helicopters (2022)

by Thunderegg

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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Thick high-quality vinyl pressing with gorgeous full-color cover art by Aman Chaudhary. Album design by Brianne Lucke.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Helicopters (2022) via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days

      $25 USD or more 

     

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $7 USD  or more

     

1.
Tonight the sunset was astonishing. I watched the clouds burst into flames. I trusted all the evening star was promising. That’s when the helicopters came. At first some specks where the horizon formed lined up like crows along a wire. Then in a flash, they scattered like a starling swarm and their black bodies filled the sky. They’ve got to be humanitarians, the optimists among us claimed, while others see their motives as nefarious and hot blood dripping from their blades. How does a boy who noticed everything become a man who just forgets, almost as if the wisdom from remembering means less than having no regrets? Not long from now, this will seem long ago. Not long from then, we will pretend that we’re so sure we know more than we’ve ever known, we’ll tear it down and start again. I wish you well, you person that I’ve never met. I finally see you’re not to blame. They set us up but couldn’t knock us over yet. That’s when the helicopters came.
2.
Turn the keys, feel the floor shake beneath you. Hammer down, let out the clutch. Bye-bye, truck. Release the valve, feel the steam rush out to greet you. Full-stroke hurricane. Bye-bye, train. You always think there’s always time to pick up what you left behind. Walk the road worn by those who precede you. I know we’ll meet again. Bye-bye, friend.
3.
I was afraid of the fray, I was the guy who you could always rely on finding off to the side. But I dreamed of the day when I would stand up and say that I was sick and tired of trying to hide. Don’t want a strategist, just need a catalyst. I need a jolt that tells me I’m alive. If it isn’t a bolt that’s shot straight out of the sky, I’ll have to draw it from my own supply. I will figure this thing out. Without a doubt, I’ll be someone who can be counted on when all the chips are down, the ships aground, and cops have got the place surrounded. You can lie to my face, convince me that I’m crazy as eights, I’m the queen of spades. It just opens a door to how it happened before, how you can’t see it until it’s too late. Bring the catastrophist, the casket out forthwith: my eyes have opened where they once were blind. I feel the strata shift, I feel the waters lift. I want to be there when it all collides. I will figure this thing out. Without a doubt, I’ll be someone who can be counted on when all the chips are down, the ships aground, and cops have got the place surrounded. You will know just what to do when all’s askew, when things have gone completely sideways. Through the fog of war you’ll see what needs to be decided to ensure survival. We, together, will prevail. We cannot fail, united by a simple service to pursue only the truth, call out those who will twist it for their selfish purpose.
4.
Blue Boy 04:24
I know some stories that were told when I was young and full of wonder, in blue pajamas head to toe, before my heart was plundered. There was a woman and a man. Their paradise was unencumbered. They made a pile of demands that they could not climb out from under. You say that you’ll come back again. You may be sure, but I am surer that you will not. But if you do, I’ll be here waiting for you all dressed in blue. They wanted glass and rock and steel, they wanted more than they were given. They saw a city on a hill, but they could only build a prison. With men in blue they filled it up, half of them caught, half of them captors. All that once mattered was forgot, and to forget was all that mattered. You say that you’ll come back again. You may be sure, but I am surer that you will not. But if you do, I’ll be here waiting for you all dressed in blue. Bursting through the doorway, blowing on your horn, roust the little blue boy sleeping in the corn. Nobody is watching the chickens at the grill. Sheep are in the walk-in, cow is in the till. I’ve heard that we are born alone, but when we die we see the angels. Why couldn’t they come say hello just once between the big occasions? I would put on my suit of blue and I would line up the libations, and I would hope to somehow prove that no one is beyond salvation. You say that you’ll come back again. You may be sure, but I am surer that you will not. But if you do, I’ll be here waiting for you all dressed in blue. I know you won’t, but if you do, I’ll be here waiting for you, all dressed in blue.
5.
I wanna be my own old man, deciding for myself where I go and who I am. I’ll clear my own throat when I tiptoe in late. I’ll only blame myself if there’s nothing on my plate. I wanna be my own old man. I wanna be my own principal, getting called down to my office when I’m difficult. Wouldn’t say nothing but I’d talk pretty slick. I’d let me go just like a sucker with a slap on the wrist. I wanna be my own principal. Ask myself permission if I’m doing something nuts, hoping that I’ll listen when I say I’ve had enough. I’ll wonder if I’m tougher if I’ll get a better shot, or if I need some understanding that I never really got. I wanna be my own deity. All I’d have to do is just believe in me. Send myself an angel when I’m straying from the light, send myself a prayer that everything’ll be all right. I wanna be my own deity.
6.
Loyola Dream 05:03
It doesn’t matter what you did, she’d already made up her mind. She’d already gotten rid of you, doesn’t matter what you tried. If she was tired of you then, now she’d be tired even more. Your heart was what held you together, now you’re all spilled on the floor. You’re a lover, not a fighter, you’re an author, not a writer, and you’re pretty sure you’re gonna blow up. You adore her but can’t have her: she’s before and you are after, and now you wish you had never shown up. Shadows look like puddles, puddles shine like mirrors. Mirrors break like bubbles, but tears are always tears. Somebody fetch a bucket, somebody’s on their knees. Someone pour you in the gutter, let you dissolve into the sea. Wrapped up in the water, stripped of all control, till finally you will have forgot her and you once again are whole. You’re a lover, not a fighter, you’re an author, not a writer, but you were pretty sure you were gonna blow up. You adore her but can’t have her: she’s before and you are after, and now you wish you had never shown up.
7.
Ghost Song 05:46
Last night I rose, aflight, afloat, light as a ghost above my body dreaming. I glided toward the open door, and off I soared, the world beneath me gleaming. Which light are you, white, yellow, blue? Cars passing through, some escaping, some returning, daughters and sons. Pretend each one’s someone you’d run to save from a house that’s burning. I was unkind, clueless and blind. Please let me try to give you all that I denied you. We’ll watch the day blaze into ash, fade into black. I swear I’ll start; I’ll bare my heart, dive through the stars, and I will wake beside you. Then in the dark, a spark will spread around our bed.
8.
Tossin’ and turnin’, sweatin’ out bourbon, by daybreak the sheets were in knots. I put on my shoes and walked out of my room to the Voyager out in the lot. You can’t be loquacious about old occupations, you can’t trust whoever you meet. Say I worked reception at the doors of perception and carried your bags to your suite. Curing your ailments, enduring derailments, living my life door to door. I’m your personal mailman, your traveling salesman, but no one wants encyclopedias anymore. I guess they must’ve heard it all before. I’m adjusting my mirrors as if all of my fears can only sneak up from the past, while at the end of my hood there is nothing that’s good that can happen when I hit the gas. Passed a scene in the shoulder on my way over, cops swarming like bees on a jar. A dusty old Lincoln tossed like a pigskin, blown open like a Matchbox car.

about

Produced by Alan Weatherhead and Will Georgantas. Mixed by Alan Weatherhead and recorded at homes in San Francisco, Oakland, Palo Alto, Richmond, VA, and Asheville, NC, May–September 2020 and January–February 2021. Mastered by Justin Perkins at Mystery Room Mastering. Cover illustration by Aman Chaudhary. Album design by Brianne Lucke. All songs ©2021, 2022 Zivlizdin Songs/BMI and written by Will Georgantas except for “Bring the Catastrophist,” written by Will Georgantas, Alex Jimenez, and Reese Douglas. Thanks to Elliot Britton, Robert Kennedy, Dan Foldes, and Fletcher C. Johnson.

credits

released February 4, 2022

Will Georgantas: guitars and vocals. Alan Weatherhead: guitars, bass, and keyboards. Brookston Fowler: drums. Alex Jimenez: bass on “Bye-Bye Truck.” Reese Douglas: guitar on “Bring the Catastrophist.” Bradley Skaught: guitar on “My Own Old Man” and “Loyola Dream.” Megan Slankard and Brad Brooks: harmony vocals on “Bring the Catastrophist.” Julian Müller: keyboards and harmony vocals on “Blue Boy.” Annie Rose Palmer: harmony vocals on “Blue Boy.” John Elliott: harmony vocals on “Encyclopedia Blues.”

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