Cementing EP

by Trapdoorsman

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adriannavarro A hidden gem I'm lucky to have stumbled upon. The Trapdoorsman "Cementing" EP is a beautiful folk whirling of emotive lyrical passages and warm stereo art. The story telling is stirring, drawing those fortunate ears that happen to pass by. Favorite track: Shaking Vest.
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1.
Shaking Vest 02:11
Dear Taylor, I can't tell my friends apart. I can't tell if they're my friends, or if they're just too polite. These failures I create don't count as art. They're a means, but not an end, and I'm too ashamed to write my sins. It's way too late to count my sins, but here: I vanished, both from you and from the South. The years afterward, they flew, and without a word from me. One letter (sounds so easy, said out loud) would have helped to stitch the wound that won't close until I see the gates, or clay, or nothingness, that you're behind, below, within.
2.
Nailbiter 04:12
You pack the kids away to college and wave them a grinning goodbye down the driveway. The house falls into a sudden quiet that presses down hard on your eyes. Was it worth it? The thought sends a chill down the back of your neck. In all your dreams, your teeth are rotting, and saltwater fills up the room. You wake, sweating. Your bed is frigid and expensive, and most nights, it feels like a tomb. Was it worth it? The thought sends a chill down the back of your neck. Armed with a frantic desperation, you move to the country to clear your poor head out. You’re spending money like it’s nothing; the well will run dry in a year. Was it worth it? The thought sends a chill down the back of your neck. You get a fresh start, and you set about making the same mistakes. You get a fresh start, and you set about making the same mistakes again.
3.
Distractions wear thin; the old thoughts settle in, lying hot on my skin as a brand. Always, in my mind, you are ten, I am nine, and we're watching the sky in your grandfather's field for bluebirds. It really is home of the blues there. I heard secondhand that you'd up and abandoned your shell to the sand, to the sea. Now, how's this for gall-- while I thought about calling, I've spoken fuck all to the people I thought of as family. You'd think I was somebody famous, to be so appalling, so shameless, to cease and desist. It still wouldn't absolve me of this. What ever could? I sat down outside, ground my teeth till I cried, feeling like I was lying, a fraud. Last night, all I dreamt: you had lungs, you drew breaths, and you claimed to be blessed by a God who in life only failed you. And who should know more about failure? It's happened, as slow as a glacier, and ten times as cold. It's too much to ask to stay gold. Gold turns deep red and umber; gold leaves with strong wind and with thunder; gold falls and gold rots inches under a hundred close kin who all were as gold as you'd been.

about

three little songs recorded by myself in my apartment with one microphone and every instrument i had available.

credits

released February 14, 2016

i play everything
i record everything
i mix everything

not saying i do it well, just that i do it

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about

Trapdoorsman Virginia

nobody look!

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