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Mirage on the Meadow

by Pine Barons

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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Stunning hand-drawn artwork and full color inner sleeve with lyrics; printed exclusively on shiny black vinyl. Limited to only 300 copies.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Mirage on the Meadow via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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1.
Testing a lesson I'll never learn, Blind by the wall while my head steers a hearse. Heart is just resting, awake in the urn, Riddled the ashes to spell out a curse. And though I do not feel that I am not home, you gotta take what you need and run out alone. A mess is to mess with falling in love, the rest is not lesser - the duck nor the dove. Listen, listen, listen, listen right now, I'll write a new Vinaya. Nameless, arrested, All for the lost death-wish, you left with a lossless applause. Happy and restless, Sewn to the moss, Slowly to plunder the breath of the frost. And though you cannot see that you're on your own, What has fallen from me is all that you know. The mess was to mess with falling in love, The rest is to test all the hands for the glove, Listen, listen, listen, Watch it all now en la memoria. A nameless to test it and dance for the song, Invest in your wisdom, ingest it for long. Blissful miss, I'm listening to you for now, to become a tabula rasa. I can eat all the laughter off the hanging flowers, that come wailing after some foolish hours. Glisten, glisten for the day.
2.
Plunge, mother love-drug, Trust in the blood-lust, Tough, father god gust, Running out of dumb luck, Guess again, Laced, with the water is a poison mace, Get in the game son, walking won't win the race. No knives or guns, All I wanted was a little taste. No crying or bleeding, In the name of the season, for keeping off the road, with all your pills to keep you dead. Bottle of wedding day, to keep all the ghosts away. What did that letter read, to scatter your rosaries? Talk with your finger tips, the voice of your innocence, caught in the spider's nest, awaiting the holocaust. Laced, with the water is a poison mace, Get in the game son, walking won't win the race. No knives or guns, All I wanted was a little taste. No crying or bleeding, In the name of the season, for keeping off the road, with all your pills to keep you dead. The time is wrong, the song won't rhyme. To leap across the foggy sea. We were all dead. We were lying in bed. We were all dead. We were lying in bed.
3.
Colette 03:34
You built a house out of sand, It fell apart through your hands. Soft spoken eyes, so token wise. You're taking off while you land, Someone must have said that you can't. Lost, open eyes - cracked open wide. Magnificent, it comes. Magnificent, it goes, Magnifique catacombes. Magnificent Colette. Less than invincible. Made it out of the maze, Winded up back in a cage, Mousey can't take anymore, And God is aching, for sure. Soft spoken lies - cracked open wide. Magnificent, it comes. Magnificent, it goes, Magnificent Colette. Less than invincible. Magnificent, it comes. Magnificent, it goes, Magnificent Colette. Less than invincible.
4.
Clique Bait 05:09
Vivid dreams of recurring scenes I can't believe, The final breath of your galaxy. Colorful death and grand prismatic oceans boiling, Vibrant symbols flashing in the night sky. Sucked into the wormhole, so magnificent and horrifying. I'm not made of sand, after all. On and off, the lisping voice, It comes and goes - My worthy adversary. Sleep tight, pariah, it's alright Pirouetting on a tight wire Tempting to taste belladonna Grace me with passionate fire. Testing out my own advice, So haunting to be wrong, like drifting in space, (when you say) I give up, I don't want it anymore. Need to let it go, Need to make believe, Need to let it go, Need to let it go. Sleep tight, pariah, it's alright Pirouetting on a tight wire Tempting to taste belladonna Grace me with passionate fire. Starling mirage on the meadow, I don't even know what it means. Stage-fright messiah won't let go, and I don't want them to see me. Twitching shadows in the candlelight, Falling deep, I breathe. (when you say) I give up, I don't want it anymore.
5.
Little Spain 03:18
Underestimated this and all, now, featureless everything. The same breath keeps shouting out numbers and names, It still scars them like hell. Cooling off soon, No time to break down, the matter of all those sour filaments. My fine miracle, each hour is set to your bright world, and I know if it's not golden, it won't stay too long. Settle my mind with valuable times. Filling the air, they ring so inaudible. Stay there, keep humming to Lucifer, Come back, evolved and theatrical. Such furious eyes, sticky with death, made to terrify, no matter the rest. Not my miracle. Each hour it feels like we are much closer with darkness. I know it's not gold and it won't stay too long. Come back to me, my fine miracle. Each hour is set to your bright world, and I know that it's gold, and that it won't stay for too long.
6.
Sputter 04:41 video
Don't want to be hung, Don't want to stay young and hungry, Don't want to get stung, Don't want to be manipulated, Don't want to be tough and lusted, Don't want to be understated, And I don't want to get stuck outside, just singing in the rain, cause if you're drinking with the stars, you might seem lonely. But then it kicks, beneath your reflection, some starving eyes have gotten fed without a witness. Too hollow to run, Nothing following close behind you. O frivolous one, no beaming eyes upon you. Don't criticize someone, when they tackle all the blame, cause if they're crumbling apart, where is their savior? But then it kicks, beneath your reflection, some starving eyes have gotten fed without a witness. Without a witness. Don't want to be without a witness. Don't wan't to be. But then it kicks, beneath your reflection, some starving eyes have gotten fed without a witness. But then it kicks...
7.
Is anybody listening in? Is anybody listening? Is anybody gifted? Episode One is on again, and will be for too long, then to be rewound and repeated. Paradise for the adult, grown too tall for the ant hill, left a trail of reactions, can't trust a soul with their past. Once was enough, don't go back. You may grow too attached, or find that the window is bullet proof. -Ways to waste a daydream- Is everybody whispering? Will anybody live again? Is anybody listening? Do beginnings really ever end? Look all around, you made it! Just for you, and only you! Take it in! You could say, I love you. Every one of you. Bad advice from the adult, grown too small for the ant hill, failed attempts to be active, don't trust a soul with your heart. Sharks are too big to throw back, you'll be under attack, or find that it's wrong to kill animals. Once was enough, don't go back, you won't wake up intact, or maybe you'll drown with your fantasies, and wake up in a bad dream. Paradise for the adult, grown too tall for the ant hill, left a trail of reactions, can't trust a soul with your heart. Once was enough, don't go back, you don't want to be sad.
8.
I'll buy my insight at the bazaar of silence and night skies, Might shake some daylight off of the vine, or suffer the frostbite. Wonder if I should keep all the lights out, I don't think think I see with my own eyes now. Straight faced, while glass is breaking on us. It's just too personal, I want to dig myself down, or up, in the now, without the stark naked rationale peeling off. Safe human clocks turning, fast-paced and slow-burning. Engines with faces, and hearts trapped in glaciers. Floating up, looking down, close enough to get out. Nurture your sanity and all of your secrets, televising the ascending friction, matches made in flammable cubicles. What is too personal, is bottled up with the sound Of a loud mouth screaming out, to announce their stark naked rationale peeling off. It's just too personal, I want to dig myself out, Melt down, When I'm found, I'll be dressed up in Stark naked fashion - Over and out.
9.
Reaper 04:12
A gentle burn, from the worst kind of words, is sinking in. Though it hurts, lifts a curse, from the first lie that the reaper let in. Stitch peels back, fabric tacks, cold and naked, with a smirk on his face. Chin relaxed, shoulders bowed, eyes pried open, by the molten disgrace. Now what kind of false inventions to mistake? Why does all the patent fuss merit a blame? Now you're gonna point your finger to escape? Who is gonna sacrifice their body to the flame? The truth inflation will, follow the glitter pill, inside your bitter brain. Now your bloody teeth are grinding in your sleep, Sweat is running out of exits to secrete, Your eyes are red with murderous defeat, Bottle up the beast. What kind of meat does your leech, wish to feast on, or is it not just me? Your steel-toe cleats can trample me, and suck on greed, just pinch me when I bleed. Now what kind of false inventions to mistake? Why does all the patent fuss merit a blame? Now you're gonna point your finger to escape? Who is gonna sacrifice their body to the flame? The truth inflation will, follow the glitter pill, inside your bitter brain. Now your bloody teeth are grinding in your sleep, Sweat is running out of exits to secrete, Your eyes are red with murderous defeat, Bottle up the beast. There was a face, in the perennial garden maze... They heard her say, "Behind every mask, there's an ocean swimming with beautiful fish, and talus caves to keep all their secrets hidden, with forests of memories floating, like spirits to feed us, and bottle up the beast."
10.
Deep inside the atmosphere, I'm muddied up and dying slowly, Cuddling some sorry soul, and I'm closer than I'd rather be, or not to be, I'll never know, What it is to be a soldier, I'm winter clean and getting colder, Knee-deep in disbeliefs, Mind and body are both sick of me. Off center again, devoid of a clouded stint of our kin, so unrelated to something like me, an alienated breed, unconventional to the fleet. Why did the car sputter out? Unlikely blood and gown, Unlikely, trouble down, Cowards like me run aground. Life it's not loaded to win underground, for good reason, tragedy brings pink flowers to thaw out the crowd. I'm just a fire, to breathe out the mound. Mind is a colliding scope, of visions up and down and floating. Lightly memorizing here, and I'm closer than I'd rather be, or not to be, I'll never know, What it means to please a partner, I'm a feasibly unpleasing author, Reading all I don't need, Writing all that is untrue about me. To leave, My love is fucking obscene. Don't break me, brother love, Unlike me, pressured of, What a frightening moon above. Faceless, unable to face a lie, faced with truth, hurts to bruise such untouchable pride, out loud. Life it's not loaded to win out of bounds, I'm not seasoned to breathe under water without a sound.

about

GS028

“Their complex arrangements echo the type of perplexing subject matter at hand, and their metaphorical lyricism sees them evoking a world beyond reality in hopes of finding the right answers” - Consequence of Sound

Born among the pitch pines of southern New Jersey, Pine Barons is a project that came to fruition as friends gathered around campfires in the nature-rich environments of their hometowns. The band’s debut LP, The Acchin Book (released in 2017), possessed a unique quality from the auxiliary instruments and recording techniques used; feathered paper dragged across paintings, field recordings in the woods at night, accordion, string arrangements and bowed guitars all contributing to the various moods and textures of the record.

Pine Barons’ newest effort, their sophomore album, Mirage on the Meadow, is by nature a more insular effort, as all ten songs were written by frontman and multi-instrumentalist, Keith Abrams, who began to explore themes of the feeling that time is running out, longing for love and death’s inevitability. Mirage is a psychedelic amalgamation of graveyard shifting indie rock – full of the dread we all experience living our daily lives while retaining a cautious optimism that propels its rich, colorful sound towards a brighter future.

credits

released October 9, 2020

Pine Barons is:

Keith Abrams
Brad Pulley
Alex Beebe
James Tierney
Alex Held

Produced by Keith Abrams

Mixed and Engineered by Keith Abrams

Additional Engineering by Alex Held, Kyle Pulley, and Danny Murillo

Mastered by Ryan Schwabe: www.ryanschwabe.com

Artwork by Brad Pulley and Colin Abrams

Vinyl packaging by Kyle Stetz

Recorded at a cabin in the Appalachian Mountains.

Additional tracking at Tunnel Vision Sound, Headroom Studios (theheadroomphiladelphia.com) and Keith’s bedroom

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