After a long time at work on a new Louiston record, it is out of my hands, down the street getting mastered at Wilburland Studios. Done. Finished.
It’s called, Reconciler. It’s 10 songs, and it’s pretty damn cool, if I may. This is the first track I’ve received back, a quiet, snarky little ditty called “Cat Person” that paints with a very wide brush. Sorry, cat folks, Ayn Rand enthusiasts, record store clerks, and melodramatic selfie-takers. I’m a dick.
It’s been a long, fruitful four months of stressful, invigorating, depressing, encouraging work. Now, it’s time to get back to life. More stuff to come, friends. Thanks for reading (and listening). And here are the song lyrics, presented in BuzzFeed-listicle format because information is more easily understood that way or something:
You say you’re a cat person, that’s all I need to know:
1. You ain’t much for people
2. You like living alone
3. You got a big bitter streak wide as Andreas Fault
4. Spoiled milk in the fridge
5. Wine with John Galt.
6. You say horrible things about most of your friends. They’ve changed so much. You don’t recognize them.
7. You got the charismatic flair of a record store clerk: Party of the year? Scourge of the earth.
8. There was someone who sang you a song. Now it’s poems and portraits now that they’re gone.
9. You say you’re a cat person, both cut from the cloth. You only take so much love before you have to get lost.
10. You say you’re a cat person. Well of course you are. Cause if you were a dog person, you’d have a tender heart.