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Pippins

by Inny

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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Translucent Sour Apple Jolly Rancher vinyl. Comes with double sided lyric insert. Limited to 125 copies

    Includes unlimited streaming of Pippins via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days
    edition of 125 

      $20 USD or more 

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Opaque vinyl in various colors. Comes with double sided lyric insert.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Pippins via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days
    edition of 220 

      $15 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.
The Tally 03:49
Coming into being more and never feeling bored Not forlorn but self assured and Nothing not seen for lack of light I'll put it off til then I'll start on the first What's the use in trying if the effort won't amount to a month's worth? But what else will afford me the chance To say relax, I've done this stuff for years. Never better, until you ask again, Looking for the right place, The right time to arrive, like I planned Jigsaw glue, I'm coming after you. Mighty as the flab Swinging like a bassinet Weak like their dying cries Sweet and sour, surely drawing flies Anytime I might succeed Hands pull the wool Fingers do the counting Tally up the errors that define me There's no chance I can't relax, just how'd I make it here? I'm defeated Please don't ask again Don't wanna see your face Don't wanna shake your hand Jigsaw glue, I'm coming after you. Gone full On high off the Hog no need to Decide or try To see the light Through the fog Just waste away.
2.
The Lotto 02:12
A joke at my expense I'll look back and laugh, but I haven't yet Waiting Anticipating My sworn enemy My favorite foe I look in your eyes I'm beating up myself Bodies in the rubble I thought I said to stay out of trouble Take every dare but never Take a chance Match of the century Get in the ring Bite the guard Take a swing A hit or a miss It's mine You've clowned me for the last time The button you press Went out of order I forget how flawed The dealers of insults and snide Remarks remain in the face Of their own reflection I won't let my umbrage show A dull knife won't draw any blood Be nice, I might divvy the pot In due time I'll hit the lotto and Crown myself king
3.
A Cold One 04:02
Fire in the hole Frozen in the cube Contestant on the show Hope you're enjoying the view One day we might share a cave Bloodbath or a tidal wave Warriors come out and play Take your weapon of choice We consult the screen But we can't swipe left in hell Yeah, you know what I mean Career cutter of thread Eat, drink, divide Leave them for dead I said NO I can't breathe I need a cold one Terrible, so terrible Something to get me through Tonight's top story sure to make me sick Green light my self abuse Opponents here are endless We differ more than we beg Well maybe that's not quite what I meant Round them up, then come collect More options than you could want More than any two eyes could watch Unwrap your free gift You're left holding a dud We consult the screen But we can't finance our fate Or get out of jail free We have debts to repay In one lump sum With nowhere to run Sharp bone stuck You better bless my throat I'm choking on the news feed The shoulder gave me rest Alpha signal entrance Vultures on patrol To a path that led to the pool Stuck between the two-- One was minuscule The other was huge I hoped somewhere in the middle I'd finally see you. In the eye of an invalid, Creepy, crawling on the crust In the corner Will it get wiped out?
4.
A Foot 03:53
From a blow Delivered, a crack in his skull A sounding alarm Loud and distinct is the call Treble and hiss Piercing cognition A terrible turn To his condition No hope No words or vision A fantasy world A fantastic mission Dangling, jaws Snap at his kicks in mid-air Losing his grip On what doesn't exist. In the shell, Is the child: half-aware A husk of the brute Stripped of his youth Raised as a mute Defaulting to fool As he grew Stepped in a pool Full of wine and piss It doesn't tear me up like I want But I never thought it would get to me like it did. A foot is kicking through A jagged window view A healing hand of trust A transformation.
5.
No chance to finish Standing in wet cement It's good to know your limits I could have made it if Anything was done by Laying down Swim A broken-armed breast stroke Boil rolling Gold medallion I'm back in the soup Going deaf but Mostly dumb Beat my brain for the income I require silence to Help me clean my slate? Life-like Crypt-like Glorified in the LED light Swim A broken-armed breast stroke Barely breathing From beneath they're pulling me Down A place for everyone to go A name for everything you know A tidy ending to a dirty game show Confidence affords an agency A mansion made of flesh Lush and furnished Range-equipped and Everything that fits Send out your passenger Reveal the stowaway Encumbered with luggage Its mass weighs me Down
6.
I'm standing in a puddle of ketchup Holding a rubber knife Starting-- I'm starting to cry, Starting to shriek When I learn of my wage for the week. I-- I get to see if he's clean and I make sure he's fed and watered If-- And if I turn my back and let him fall, He'll turn up dead. I'm desperate to make amends and Justify myself for everything I thought and felt Because when I wake, I'll be pinned Underneath the ceiling or What I used to think was what Protected me A sacrament in the pool may look good But is of no actual use And it's not a tail between Just an open valve and the death of me. Didn't care enough for you or myself Despite some privilege to wash the feet of some Gurgling abomination, So beautiful
7.
I wanna live in a hole I like this room I don't want any needs I like these walls and I feel so relieved I don't have to show up I don't have to meet you No appearance No more feelings of dread No fumbling with that interface again I'm through Just a dreamy blank screen A base desire runs my train of thought Obsessing over What to taste What to touch Thought I could burrow and Seek no company I'm realizing I don't know what I want I'm always empty and I'm never filling up There is no cure Only what I couldn't curb or Know for sure A broadcasted smile will suffice Go fishing in the stream For my plight Gonna look it in the face and Ask for the correct time It got buried in a Pile of wet leaves So if you run into me later on Don't remind me of What we were doing Because I'm way better off now Labor late to solve and Proceed to improve Ego lost in the waves Undulation In a pattern Hear the violin strings In all matter All creation Ego lost in the waves Undulation In a pattern Win or lose The eternal contest Opposition so strong but There's no way out.
8.
Pippins 04:16
Disguise the fact that you're a weakling The scabs look good on your legs A dark tunnel through the onslaught I haven't seen light for days Delays always, but never dust It's powdered fine on the sill The dirty laundry piled up Buried my ambition and will Look so pathetic with a bee sting on my tongue Far-flung shame of the More foolish version from Another dimension And to think what flag or anything else that we might have raised Surely tall, and dark and dumb Content in the second row Wear shoes with an open toe Weather fads and photos, Hot air and hair-dos Get by on sheer charisma Toss it in and let the cycle begin A meager coin as garnish, It's oh, so simple my friend. Full-color pageant A mouth full of sugar The modest fame Of the put-together version from another dimension And to think how proud of any one thing of scene that we made We were loved and wanted and belonged. Made of sound and bland nostalgia that you can Take or leave Filling in a hole with a dent and dig Discount dream When it's flashing will this minimize The wincing and The blushing As I'm turning blue
9.
Low card No card You win Declare war on myself again No trick No illusion A perfect mess A snail's pace, elastic waist Stay awake, sleep in late Nothing left to take the place Of what I hate Won't fight or hurt a fly if I could A palm swats a mosquito full of blood A vampire skims the surface of a lake That's my running mate Sing one, scream one Spring back up Pry off the clamps keeping it shut Visualize have faith in something I know I want I don't yearn for frigid air wafting through A luxurious crypt Thirst always quenched and belly always full Comatose or content I want to celebrate remaining days Feel like I'm connected Could I be honest with myself, if just this once Before I turn to dust

about

"A high-energy romp through angular 90's noise rock and post-punk melodicism. It's a little bit dissonant, a little bit pretty and 100 percent powerful." // DECIBEL MAGAZINE

"Inny tap into a wealth of punk, emo, noise, and rock fueled inspiration—a little mathy, a little proggy—with an emotional impact and range shifting from anguished to overjoyed, all the while showing off their dexterity and the catharsis of their craft."// NEW NOISE MAGAZINE

"Potent melding of noise rock and indie elements - loud instrumentation and idiosyncratic rhythms crossed with deft use of sonic dynamics and an almost "pop" sheen that adds an odd catchiness to the cacophony. Songs like "The Soup and Its Mass" sounds like Unsane got together with some mid-era DC band to take a stab at writing what they thought might be a "radio hit," while "The Eternal Contest" sounds like it could actually deliver that hit. Ditto for the title track, which ratchets down the din for the most part, raises up the pop quotient, then dances back and forth between the two. Tight, creative, rubber band-like execution, this is a helluva listen." //RAZORCAKE, Jimmy Alvarado

"There's a certain beauty inherent in the band's loud and soft, rough and graceful approach to their craft. The 'Pippins' album features 9 tracks recorded during the worst of the Covid-19 pandemic. As a result, the band did all the recording and production themselves, taking their time over the course of several months in their home studio. This extra time allowed them to experiment and develop and diversify these songs and their arrangements. Listen closely, and you'll hear the layers of piano, synths, percussion and field recordings. You'll also hear a band that is really rounding into form and is having a blast along the way." // v13.net

"Excellent recording on this - every instrument stands out huge and clear while remaining aggressive and not too polished. The bass just sounds amazing. The more I listen to it the more I enjoy what this trio does and they show it through deft post-hardcore, leaning into creative hard rock through epic-sounding endeavors like A-side closer 'The Soup And Its Mass', or the playful and plaintively emotive title track. They close out the album with a ripper that sounds akin to Hot Snakes in its first half, while ending on a drawn out let-it-all-out cascade that wouldn't be out of place on a kerosene 454 or Giant Chair album." // HANGING HEX, Ryan Canavan

credits

released December 16, 2022

Music by Inny
Words by Brody
Additional vocals on "Pippins" by Ali Ippolito
Drums recorded by Robert Comitz at Stop/Start in March 2021
Recorded, mixed, and produced by Dan O'Hara at Plural Mural during the summer of 2021
Mastered by Stephan Hawkes at Interlace Audio
Lacquers cut by Amy Dragon
Cover art and design by Brody
Insert photo and band photo by James Rexroad
Pressed at Cascade Record Pressing in Portland, OR

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Inny Portland, Oregon

Not a outie


Brody M: guitar, vocals
Dan O'Hara: bass guitar
Tuviya Edelhart: drums

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