Take Weight!

by Take Weight

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This single session DIY album was recorded at Mark's house in the Old West End, Toledo, Ohio with 2 mics, a 2 channel mixer, a demo 8 track audio program, a blanket, and a ladder.


released March 24, 2017



all rights reserved


Take Weight Toledo, Ohio

Beers, Babes and Bros, Discount Sushi, ROCK AND ROLL.

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Track Name: Fixed
They can't break from that meat-head testosterone brain / They turn truth into hearsay / They accept hate with blinder sights, vacant empathy.

"Keep slingin' the same old bullshit... Who's fucking pissed? We're fucking pissed!"
Track Name: Resolve
You know I try not to punch my head when things don't go as planned; I have to stitch back my severed brain, explain that life is not charted land. Take weight from my head, take from my pack. Shine the gas mantle flame, illuminate my mistakes.

Make camp, prescribe fire, welcome change, fresh starts start today.
Track Name: Void
I can feel the air filling gaps like liquid; sludge-ing between sand and stone, impeding intuition: "I can't... I feel alone." It's alive... IT'S ALIVE! Hacking into my system, suppressing my mind.

Restricting my breaths, compressing my chest, like circled arms on bench vices.

Conducting factual mirage with emotive direction; I can't see clear. Its effects affect affect; its damage direct.

A lead based fog stamped flat under pressure; vacuum sealed rounding landscapes and textures; gray paint and powder coat and dilute all that pleasures. Dissociation oils my feathers. It's holding me down.
Track Name: Balance
Are our opinions too long and impenetrably strong or porous and understanding? Ideas bounced like pong end up as stone ground issues, identifiable by dental records. To understand? We say we try, but too often we are stuck on one side.

We feel what's right, we feel what's wrong; which makes compromise so hard, but where do we get when we debate, argue and defend without stubborn-less conversation on both sides?

Present/Receive. I'm right/You're right.
Track Name: Snap
What's locked inside is sheltered, is contained, is abstained from fresh air and sunlight; folded and pressed through the mail slot, towering on the floor like stacks of unopened advertisements, corporate/company mail. I forget to inhale. I regret what has failed. Like trudging through wet cement, like the air has turned to gelatin.

The slate remains blank: it feels like there's no place to begin and repetitive days can bake out the will to create; can make hours feel like extended stays. I waste time spent face-to-face. Connections crumble, Pipes break.

The grind/the routine ruins sleep. I shut my eyes, but I'm just counting sheep. My mind refuses to let me dream.

"I spent the night wide awake,
And then I looked outside and it was a beautiful day,
I'm rolling with the punches while I pick up the pace,
'cause nothing's gonna fuck with me today."

With the sun at my back, I ice my bruises, shred what's useless. Hey! Let's do this!
Track Name: Decade
I'm over light speed: proving theories, dipping in and out of fluctuations in gravity, ducking through wormholes; multidimensional. I miss subtle changes, get lost in the rhythmic advance of calendar squares: pen events, forget details. I watch faces age, hairs grow grey, but I feel like I've evaded becoming jaded. My heart hasn't aged. My soul still aches to play. I'll break the mold set for my age/ignore the norms. These expectations I push them away. But I can't ignore the past when pulled from photos, film or digital folders. Light speed! The truth in focus: realizing life's momentum.