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Karakara

by The Casual Sexists

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Released 8/11/17 on Feral Media. Also available at feralmedia.bandcamp.com

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released August 11, 2017

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all rights reserved

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about

The Casual Sexists Brooklyn, New York

Transatlantic couple Varrick and Ed Zed have been coaxing crooked pop songs out of disillusionment, animals and the horrors of modern life since before Brexit. Computers, household junk and voices are their tools.

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Track Name: Karakara
You don't know me, yet I'm forced to know you 

Another porous room in which I wearily notice you

The first time I looked away you knew I was the one

Because those who long to be chased always run

A little request that I couldn't accept

The box goes <voo-eh> and again I must choose

Which way I want to lose

Sometimes I respond, though always without aim 

For everything and nothing amount to the same



Looking at you / watching me

Looking at you / dehydrating me

Looking at me / watching you

Looking at me / desiccating you



I police you as you police me

Because the real police don't have time, apparently

And every move you make, every breath you take

I'll be mocking you

I'm watching from my window as you root through my trash
Searching for a shred of yourself amongst the cold ash
And if you found parts of me, what then?
You wouldn't know what to do with any of them



Looking at me / watching you

Looking at me / dehydrating you

Looking at you / hating me

Wishing that you could be a part of me



I think it was Derek Raymond who said 

A murderer is more boring than the dead

And you're not even a killer, so if that's true

Tell me, honeybunch, what does that make you?

'Cause it's so charming that you think I care

About you crawling over fences for my Primark underwear

Is this 'animal' meant to scare me?

I've seen wilder animals in a Sylvanian Family



Looking at you / watching me

Looking at you / dehydrating me

Looking at me / watching you

Looking at me / desiccating you
Looking at me / watching you

Looking at me / dehydrating you
Track Name: Curse
Staring at no words on the screen
There are many but they can't be seen
The numbers march so inexorably
Have to snatch at them while the interest is keen
But I need a drink and here comes the cat
Regarding me now from the world on her back
Far be it from me to anthropomorphize
But do I detect a hint of contempt in her eyes?

Today I'll begin - it might even be fun
And I won't start another till I've finished this one
I'm doing it for myself and I'm keeping it real
But of course I still want it to have mass appeal
And as I fall from the fence into the abyss
I like to kid myself that something's amiss
Oh, the pain of low-key genius is such a noble thing
And the words won't come
The worst is yet to come
And the words won't come
The worst is yet to come
Banging delicate keys as if they were drums
The worst is yet to come
The worst is yet to....

It stops my heart and it sets my heart into motion
It's a curse, it's a curse, it's a terminal love

I swear there was a time when I knew how to stop
There might have even been a time of nothing at all
Logic and time were once separate things
One language for all purposes was more than enough
Oooh.... it is thirsty work
(I'm thirsty, I'm thirsty, this is thirsty work)
Oooh.... such thirsty work, baby

It stops my heart and it sets my heart into motion
It's a curse, it's a curse, it's a terminal love
It hurts my heart with essential information
It furnishes, it infects, it permits me to breathe

Cigarettes they say are for the unquiet
Perhaps I shouldn't have given up on them
Though how can I say I have nothing to do
When drowning in oceans of crayons and glue
Sometimes a kind word seems like applause for an empty stage
Another torn-out page
Trying to build a mansion on minimum wage
But when it works and it works, by god it's so sweet
Play once and repeat
The walls tower so high you could weep
Play once and repeat
Play twice and repeat
Until the next time...

It stops my heart and it sets my heart into motion
It's a filthy curse, it's my terminal love
It floods my heart with diabolical information
It furnishes, it infects, it permits me to breathe
Track Name: Pop Music
Don't call me on the telephone - it's time for pop music
You can rap upon the door of my home - I'm here with pop music
We're discussing the politics of dance
The exquisite pain of a three minute romance
But do the dance or fuck off - we're pop music

We're jiving to the song of the mob - pop music
Twist our heels on the face of the snob - pop music
You know I love you, modern composition and jazz
But just now I want to dance like a.....
For you see its blood is in my veins - pop music

We must make it any way that we can - pop music
With a packet of johnnies or a coffee can - pop music
Like a heatwave in December, make it hot, weird and new
These days perhaps that ain't so easy to do
But we'll try, try, try til we die
For pop music
Make it loud, make it large, make it Nicki Minaj
Make it loud, make it large, make it Nicki Minaj
Industrial noise, The Pet Shop Boys
Or just as sparse as Tirzah - pop music


Don't call me on the telephone - it's time for pop music
Though you may sully the court of my home – I dine with pop music
You may think that the future is dead
That the future ended with Radiohead
I turn your volume to nil – I'm pop music

Pop music
Pop music
Don't call me on the phone – leave us alone with pop music
I hear it's just fodder for the mob – pop music
I don't listen to the fucking snobs – pop music
Its poison is in my vein – pop music
Three minutes and I'm whole again........

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