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TERMINAL

by WIRE LINES

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    This cd contains the Terminal EP along with our Demo. 12 songs in all.

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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 5 WIRE LINES releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Tragic History of the Sea, Walpole Here We Come, Harvest Verses, TERMINAL, and DEMO. , and , .

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1.
Blind 01:30
First, when it comes to making a blindfold find someone else to process the cloth. Don’t try to do that step on your own or you might end up lost. It’s quite far away where they harvest the cotton and further than that where they operate looms. They do a good job and they do it for pennies, but they won’t be finished soon. And you’re unsure of where to turn and you’re unsure of how to act, and you have lost your place in this world. It’s not coming back. And you’re afraid to speak to the people using a different language than you, and you would rather cover your eyes. They might look different too, and when that blindfold finally arrives you’ll tie it to make sure it blocks out the light. If isolation makes you wrong you’d rather not be right. You choose to lose your eyes.
2.
It's real and it's true, there's a job to do. In my father's home are many mansions. We are born with names we have to live up to and can't change our names by extension. In this house of cards, we are playing the odds and a new wind might bring extinction, and if you brush against this immovable ladder you increase the risk of explosion. If you can't respect this delicate balance we're going to sieve through you. Put my grievance down in this jeremiad. We're going to sieve through you. From my heavy hand to this heavy crown, we're going to sieve through you. With cedar cut in Lebanon we're going to sieve through you. So, mark my words and mince your own as lamentations follow. And if you pray best pray aloud and pray your prayers aren't hollow. The sky is dark, the child cries. My mouth is caked in dust. Every blade I see is shining. Let tomorrow rust.
3.
I’m biting tongues and biding time with sweetened songs of poison. With writ devices improvised. For everything due season. And when our tools upend the land, in rows and behind fences, do we plant crops with eager hands, or carve out graves and trenches? With swollen tongue and short on time, with poisoned songs of sugar, with verses brimming full of lies, each breath a desperate wager. We have our tools tear through the land in ragged pockmarked craters, with blood and bile mixed with sand. The hour getting later. I can see you now, still looking young by candlelight, and I can hear your words: “We were born to fight.”
4.
Traffic 02:19
My mind’s on bottom lines, numbers. My mind’s on keeping the overhead down. I stock supplies and plan action. I plot my course without making a sound. I have a hand in logistics; the movement of product from shelf to the sale. Through luck, or choice of profession, some people are hammers and some are the nails packed in crates in shipping containers. Traffic on interstates bearing the load. My mind’s on commerce and numbers. Opportunity choking, my hands at its throat. I track demand and move units. An army of forklifts is loading the boat full of people in shipping containers. Freighters lie heavy to carry the load, trafficking product across the Americas, Asia and Africa, Europe. It’s sold by the people who orchestrate traffic, moved by distributors trading for gold. Business is personal, business is personnel. Avarice pauses, comes in from the cold.
5.
Seven Birds 01:25
Seven birds are sleeping in a row, with aromatics in a bed of dough. They drew attention through incessant singing; they never heard that dinner bells were ringing. The hunter fumbled as he tied the snare. The cat was at the window, waiting there. The feathers fluttered in the autumn wind. This story never ends, it just begins. If their colors were a duller shade they could afford to make mistakes they made, but harmonizing, vain, devoid of reason-- it slipped their mind that they were now in season. Seven birds are sleeping all alone. The dullest spoon is cracking tiny bones. The wine is pouring and the silver glistens. I tried to warn them but they would not listen.
6.
Stay Angry 03:24
It’s how you feel. It’s what you trust. Violence a must. It’s ok if you want to stay angry. Smooth to the touch, Avarice and such. Liquor and lust. Do the math and you never feel guilty. Cut to the quick. Armed to the teeth. Up to the hilt. Blood spilt on the canvas is beauty. Clay in your hands, sway to demands stitched on the cloth. It’s okay if you never felt sorry. It’s hard to cut the anchor from the chain. Born at the end and edge of the world. Ocean unfurls. It’s okay if you dive in forever. Sleep you can hold and carry in hand. Cancel all plans. It’s ok if you want to erase them. Food losing taste. Labor and waste. Slow to make haste. No trace. Just a rumor of shadow. Facing a mirror to the night sky, closing your eyes. It’s ok if you want to stay angry. It’s hard to pry the anchor from the chain, but when you finally get it free and drop it far away from you, take some time and think of me. Promise me that’s what you’ll do. Younger than you ever were. Tomorrow you are younger still. Sun that streaks across your face. Sailing with an iron will.

about

It's been four months, and Wire Lines have recorded six new songs.
They've evolved exactly as much as you'd expect.
These songs sound smarter, but it's probably just the result of additional practice.
Kevin appears to be upset about politics.

On average, these songs are 10 seconds shorter than the songs on the demo.

credits

released July 6, 2019

Ryan Parker: bass
Jeremy Medeiros: guitar
Ted Ilsley: drums
Kevin Grant: vocals

All songs by WIRE LINES. All lyrics by Kevin Grant.
Recorded June 9th, 2019 by Trevor Vaughan @ the Colosseum.

Cover art:

TRANSFERENCE
Artist: Jodi Stevens
2013 | Yarn
A site-specific installation built for the Loveland Feed & Grain in Loveland, Colorado in conjunction with Artworks Loveland.
Photography by Riley Reid

jodistevensart.com

Layout by Jacob Bannon.

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WIRE LINES New Bedford, Massachusetts

Wire Lines channel their urgent, hook-laden brand of alt rock through the lens of the hardcore punk on which they cut their teeth. That sensibility shines through not only in the brevity and ferocity of their music, but in their blatant disregard for convention. Each new sound complements the last, weaving a remarkably cohesive musical tapestry that is as inventive as it is refreshing. ... more

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