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low light trades

by Bret Koontz

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    Professionally-dubbed cassette, released by Planted Tapes. Liner notes include lyrics.

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1.
Games 03:18
What kind of game would you like to play? ‘cause I’ve got something here that could make you sleep what kind of hour would you like to spend? it all depends, can you pretend? through sadly awakening these powers you will comfort me through madly passing these hours it has come to be the waveform is falling as the weak shall fall beneath the sword of the strong I never could remember I always get to play and if you tell them I will stay oh Sharon oh Sharon oh Sharon oh Sharon please take me with you oh Darren oh Darren oh Darren oh Darren please take me with you when you go and all the things that people say to you: a lot of civilized words you name the time and I’ll name the place and time ‘cause it’s all not worth the dime so what kind of game would you like to play? and what kind of hour would you like to spend? and how would you like your new game to end? I’ve already fallen behind several friends
2.
Walk 03:36
I’ll walk with the sun until it’s done guiding my way A blonde on the haze a branch in the swirling rays On trees bend bent to the wind And if we should lose satellite blues eyes in our palms In guises of long long ago dreams and lies Lost to the wind But everyone says you’re the same and only to blame for the leisure And everyone says it’s a shame you’re only to blame for the pleasure Anyone falling down is heavily sent that’s how the river flows I had a regular time in on my own the sons of Saturday are melting my brain away again I lost all my dreams swept from the streams into the night Darkness surrounds and whispers the only sound Into the wind I saw the hinterland under my brow Such a rarely indelicate fool a mischievous smile and an elegant bow saying ‘where do you want to go now?’
3.
Nashville 03:56
Well we like our home cooking but we don’t like it strange that’s why we’re all riding the electric range yeah everybody here in Nashville is afraid of the gas except when we’re huffing or snorting up glass oh burn victim daughters no not in Nashville I say all of you fathers take your burn victim daughters with their hideous scars and sail ‘em away everything’s under control I got conductor coils on the top of my stove oh Nashville oh Lord you don’t mind the football team oiling up your name but your corn cobs can’t be fired by not by an electric flame you desire an electric flame There’s a pillar of fire in the town of your birth there’s a tape of the tide that will cover the earth there’s a sinner who sings that the state is a bomb there’s a man or a king who has eyes for his mom there’s a pinstriper’s business sense spreading this ignorance fearing the decadence hating the orient oh burn victim daughters no not in Nashville I say all of you fathers take your burn victim daughters with their hideous scars and sail em away get away from it all at the Cape they showed Ron Howard’s ‘Backdraft’ and I got it on tape oh Nashville oh Lord talk of electric shock won’t fuck your day but the rest is assured they’re in stitches every time that you say we were bitches to the old TVA in a similar fashion they have taken my wife there’s a criminal passion at the end of my life
4.
Deanna 04:46
We were two of a kind on the line And working in the factory was second rate To killing time In the back of my mind I got away with you But everybody knows just how the summer goes In winter towns when everything is shuttered and closed How you turned to say ‘So many questions, but no new answers in our time’ I’d like to see you I never should’ve caught your eye Looking back over the Falls The water will ever be sound You were just hangin around Deanna And if you ever get lost The places we wanted to find I’ll always cherish your mind Deanna We were just wasting your time When you opened your eyes at the picture show Suddenly you felt it past time to go Said ‘I’ve got to go’ For the weight on my mind I could’ve fell in two To be the ones get left behind is hard to do And rings a little louder in a smaller crew When we’d said the darkest things that we could say to you How you turned to say So many questions but no new answers in our time Sure, I could stay here, but if I did I’d probably die Looking back over the Falls The water may ever be bare I am still seeing you there Deanna And if you ever get lost The places we wanted to find I’ll always cherish you mind Deanna We were just wasting your time It’s lonelier now that Beth and Jeffery are gone for the long one It’s funny how a little champagne figures out The taste and the memory of getting on I think that I’m done: one more boy who got done Looking back over the Falls The water may ever be clear I am still keeping you near Deanna
5.
Spain 04:52
No former feeling ‘ve you felt tonight And it’ll all be alright when we get home Got mad at the party off a brown liquor drink And a gut rotted stink was in your eye It’s a song I can’t stop singing but if you can’t take the strain Then I’ll get back to you tomorrow when I get back from Spain No low-ballin’ heart No low-ballin’ heart will you reap I do what I want now and you do the same And it’s all just a game that we broke There’s a bottle in the bedroom and a bottle on the porch And a tiny little torch in a cage It’s a room that won’t stop spinning but if you can’t take the strain Then I’ll get back to you tomorrow when I get back from Spain No low-ballin’ heart No low-ballin’ heart will you reap Go ahead and buy in and help me to sell out ‘cause the bright light fell out of your eye you purchase all you own now purchase all you think you purchase everything and close the books and I’m sorry for the hatred and you’re sorry for the pain And we’ll sorry for the truth it wasn’t worth it to explain And there’s a word for what I’m doing but I’m gonna call it Spain No low-ballin’ heart No low-ballin’ heart will you reap What you’ve sewn? And ‘so what’ for the others Who would pray you let them go? A long time ago Will you find somewhere else to belong? No.
6.
You could never encounter what slipped through your door it’s the much-maligned visitor it’s the man from before and now you say he’s bringing you down it’s the weight of the witch on your shoulders it’s the weight of the witch on your shoulders it’s the weight of the witch and now you know it’s not just passing time oh you’d like to see Time travel slowly you’d like to see life pass you by but still the witch is waiting on your shoulders and I am waiting in the wings for her
7.
Ruthless 04:50
The pain you feel in the back of your head makes you weak You’re about to about to cross another friend again so ruthless I’m the only one you saved. Oh, cruel kindness It’s a shame you knew just what you would do: now they’re dead You’re about to meet another fitting end so truthless I’m the only one you gave your cruel kindness And you could change, but it would be fake change And I could change, but those would be phony changes People will do as they want to be seen But the things you do won’t keep you from your knees And if something happens, help it to be swept under the rug And if nothing happens, help is to be swept under you Need someone to lead you to the dru-uugs You never had time or space to be What can we share now but remorse and misery Ruth ruthless Truth truthless I need you less and less I could show you --hanging from a window sill— Making something so much more than it should ever be And in the afternoon I’ve never seen screens so bright before All that we’re lacking is the night And a strange new zeal has gripped you at last, from behind You wonder if you’ve suffered to be kind Oh, kindness! You’ve moved northwest and changed your name What can I do now but the same?
8.
the Claim 03:12
The claim was a shallow grave deep enough for wealth to hide but the gold ran out the other side and the shame of a hollow vein the deed was worn and bound in twine when I stole it from a friend of mine and the river laid down by the sea when I sold him to his enemies and what do I see? a whole world laid out and lost the creek dried up a white boy’s dam and I remain a helpless man and time may teach you but I’ll remain the nameless same until the vein begins again or the land of my father could stretch so much further or I could be you but there is a trail that leads back and I believe no one sleeps in the night you’re carrying a load no more gold in sight
9.
You take the meat right off the bone and eat alone for the last time as far as you know you're a good man you only saved your hand from a fate worse than death and in the same breath you apologize for leaving a trail who cares if you're up or down you're playing that clown all around town who cares if you're right or wrong you're taking too long to sing that old song when Saturday comes don't mind will start a new line you leave the streets you leave alone you’ve just been gone for a long time we thought you should know you’re a good man you only saved your hand from a fate worse than death and in the same breath you apologize for leaving a trail who cares if you’re up or down you’re playing that clown all around town who cares if you’re right or wrong you’re taking too long to sing that old song when Saturday comes don’t mind will start a and if it’s all blessed I would it cost you less paid to be best you’re walking around shantytowns with that old badge on your chest the west will keep expanding or the long road ever demanding no questions to say: you were a part of the history we made that day
10.
the Stickman 03:05
It was a heavy load that you carried back home let the open arms of a winter stream carry you away with diamonds surrounding all you fall down and floating behind you all the branches you mind for throwing on the fire the crackling and popping wet wood with embers on your mind you’re doing with a little boy should you knew you’d raise the ire of the cackling old hag of the woods the city flipped a switch, put a match on your soul now you strike it up for burning wood instead of coal come to find resting space among rock and rapids under broken bridge and snow no one will find gathering branches block our view and the beavers make a dam of you maybe when summer rolls around I’ll light a punk and burn your coffin down for throwing on the fire the crackling and popping wet wood with embers on your mind you’re doing with a little boy should you knew you to raise the ire of the cackling old hag of the woods
11.
Watching a leaning hand drain off a bleeding heart We found a way to be weird The word liked you the waiter, too Now that you’re left alive you’ve got a special friend Who’s got a way to be free The men like you the callous-mitted talisman The lake it was so weird Thawed out nearly twice a year Oh the night so stupid so show me how you move But don’t fuck around out in the dark You could be happier living beyond the pale You could be happier living a lark You can’t get serious here in the dawning age we found a way to be wild

about

"Close blends of jazz with hints of folk in a poised environment that just surpassed the renaissance, old-school, but pushing it the right way. Like the lines of privacy and secrecy, and exploring the in-between. Walks along with guitar to storytelling, blooming song-writing that’s rarely heard in our WiFi, BluTooth, [electronic, generally] environment."
-C Monster, Tiny Mix Tapes

I recorded Low Light Trades in a coach house on the western edge of Logan Square, Chicago. If you walk up on it at night, it bears more than a passing resemblance to a haunted house. I remember when people would ask me what I was up to during that period I would tell them I was making a ‘bedroom recording that isn’t going to sound like it was recorded in a bedroom.’ For the ambient sound that serves as a backdrop for the album closer On Weird Lake, I placed a mic on my windowsill and got a field recording of the odd combination of nature and city sounds I hear most nights. If you listen closely right before the fade out you’ll hear a distant motorcycle barreling down Fullerton Avenue. The songs were written there and at Situations (an underground venue I lived at for a number of years) with the exception of Nashville, which I wrote sitting in my kitchen in Pilsen one afternoon looking at our half-broken stove.

The album title definitely has a double meaning. On the one hand, there’s trades as transactions, which for me would include the exchange of emotional support, physical affection, love, and loyalties—the sort of interpersonal things that take on a more self-reflective tone at, say, three in the morning on a Sunday. Then on the other hand you have trade as a job or skill. Musicians or anybody involved in touring or running any sort of venue are often plying their trade in near darkness: arrive after sundown, discuss the evening’s business by the light of a beer sign, pack your gear in a dark corner with a flashlight. It also struck me that in terms of environment, some of these songs would probably best be appreciated with the lights dialed down a little bit.

With the autobiographical songs on this album, I was writing about scenarios in my life that seemed to repeat themselves. Spain, for instance, addresses the bitterness, judgement, and false victimhood you feel when someone leaves you when your life is already on a downswing. I’ve been on both sides of that (as I think most people have) more than once in my life. So in retrospect, once you have some distance, it’s more about the patterns of behavior than who exactly did what, y’know? But in the moment . . . The opening track, Games, is about all of my close friends and the people I regard as compatriots or ‘contemporaries.’ It’s about the things we do to try and create real magic in our lives and how we won’t be tamed no matter how hard outside forces try to scare us straight. There’s too many to list here, but you could say they’re definitely silent partners to the album as a whole.

credits

released June 1, 2017

Low Light Trades was produced, engineered, and mixed by Bret Koontz in Hotel Earth, a coach house.
Violin on “the Claim” by Ian Bertorelli.
Mastered by Dave Vettraino (Public House Sound).
All songs written by Bret Koontz, copyright 2004-2017.

Special Thanks to Molly Plunk, Bob Ness, Chip Hamlett, Liam Warfield, John Wheatley, Sydney Roth, Ari Mejia, Doni Schroader, Crawford Philleo & all bandmates past and present.

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Bret Koontz Chicago, Illinois

Chicago by way of Nashville. Recording artist and Producer, multi-instrumentalist but first and foremost a songwriter.

bretkunst.com

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