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04:28

credits

released September 3, 2013

All songs by Hawkins & Stone.

Brian 'the Brayer' Hawkins is responsible for: piano, guitar, washboard, scraping and burnishing, and playing the aquatint box. He also sings on tracks 1,3,4,7,8,9,11, and 12.

Greg 'the Litho' Stone is responsible for: more guitars, harmonica, levigating, paper tearing, inking, cleaning, screenprinting, and playing the drying racks. He also sings on tracks 2, 5, 6, 10, and 12.

Mr. Clinton Rogers played the double bass on tracks 4 and 7 and lent his voice along with Mr. Steven Prochyra and the once fiery but now ghastly silent Mr. Paul Keefe to "Once This Ghost Is Gone."

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À la Poupée & the Chine-Collés Lawrence, Kansas

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Track Name: The Aquatint Blues
I've got acid on my shoes
A printmaker with the blues
Inky fingers and a broken heart
Don't know where to start
I'm an artist and she was my muse
Now she's gone and left me the blues
She was my model
I found her fetching
That's the reason she's in all my etchings

Rosin falls like snow
And while it showers
I pass the hours
Wondering why she had to go
I can't believe it, I've got the Aquatint Blues

I'm going down to the river
Like some copper in the acid
I'm gonna sink right down
In that water so placid
Under the surface I'll go
Intaglio
Track Name: Pulling Up The Paper
I like the ink stuck under my fingernails
I like the ink that stains all my clothes
I like the sound of rolling out fresh ink
I like the sound of a Vandercook press
I like the smell of acid on copper
I like the smell of solvents in the air
I like the feeling of pulling up the paper
I like the feeling of making prints

I like the ink in the cracks of my fingers
I like the ink that's covering my shoes
I like the touch of a fine sheet of paper
I like the touch of embossed ampersand
I like the sound of squeegee on silkscreen
I like the sound of grinding a stone
I like the feeling of pulling up the paper
I like the feeling of making prints

I like the ink that's caked onto my hands
I like the ink that appears on my face
I like the mark of an etching needle
I like the mark of a v-gouge
I like the look of deckled edges
I like the look of a fine aquatint
I like the feeling of pulling up the paper
I like the feeling of making prints
Track Name: The Registration Blues
I asked her up to see my etchings all she did was smile
Said she'd heard that one before but she'd stay a little while
She said she liked my place and she liked my style
And everything was fine 'til she saw my prints in a pile

She said don't pretend I love you, don't pretend I care
But your poor registration is more than I can bear
I've gotta help you through this, I've gotta set you right
So listen to me, baby, you're gonna lose those blues tonight

'Cause you've got three plates and all you do is guess
Where to place the paper but it's rarely a success
It's not working for you baby, you've got nothing to lose
So listen to me, honey, I'm gonna sing those T-Bar blues

Well, trapping my paper's like trapping my soul
Stop preaching to me I wanna rock and roll
I've tried peg registration, yeah I've done my part
But punching holes in my paper's punching holes in my heart

These three lines will change your life forever
When you take a little time and mark your sheets of paper
There's nothing in this system that'll cause you distress
So you get all suicidal and wanna run yourself through the press

She said don't pretend I love you, don't pretend I care
But your poor registration's more than I can bear
I've gotta help you through this, I've gotta set you right
You've gotta lose those Registration Blues tonight
Track Name: Another Bad Impression
Another bad impression, another proof for the pile
We haven't had very good luck for a while
We mix our ink, wipe our plates with care
No matter what we do we can't print that bon à tirer
À la poupée and chine-collé, we're printing our lives away
If the solvents don't kill us we'll try some other way

Another bad impression, another proof for the pile
We haven't had very good luck for a while
We mix our ink, wipe our plates with care
No matter what we do we can't print that bon à tirer
Dutch mordant and Belgian beer
We've got a lot of fluids in here
But no matter what we drink
We can't print that bon à tirer
It's not like there's something we lack
We've even got a piano in the back
With ink on the ivories
So all the keys are black
Track Name: The Work-Up Blues
Well, I've been printing all day long
And now I'm singing this here song
Cause I, I've got the work-up blues
And I've got my form locked into place
I thought I'd filled in every space
And I, I've got the work-up blues

And everytime I roll one through
I see something so brand new
Am I just high from spirit vapors
Or just upset from wasted paper

And I tap the furniture down in it's crack
But three prints later it comes right back
And I, I've got the work-up blues

My stack of paper is getting low
And my mind is filling with so many woes
I, I've got the work-up blues

And everytime I roll one through
I see something so brand new
Am I just high from spirit vapors
Or just upset from wasted paper
Track Name: Silkscreen
I've got something that I want to say, and I just don't know how to say it
I've got something to get off my chest, and I just don't know how to do it
I've got something that I want to say, and I just don't know how to say it
So you hand me a squeegee and tell me to get to it

I'm gonna make a silkscreen
Maybe do a rainbow pull
I'm gonna make a silkscreen
Maybe do a CMYK

You tell me it's so easy to make anything that you want
A sticker, a zine, anything in between, you say do anything you want
You tell me it's so easy to make anything that you want
A sticker, a zine, anything in between, you say do anything you want

I'm gonna make a silkscreen
Maybe do a rainbow pull
I'm gonna make a silkscreen
Maybe do a CMYK
Track Name: Monotypes at Midnight
Come on, pretty baby, you know what I want to do
I wanna come around about midnight and make some monotypes with you

Well, I was walking around the other night
I saw some things I think you'd like
A couple presses and a few cans of ink
Oh now baby I know what you think
But hey, forget the risk
Let's have an artistic tryst

Security comes by at 11:02
But after that they don't care what you do
So let's go down to room 313
They won't mind as long as we leave it clean
Oh no, they won't care
I hope I see you there

I expect you guessed what happened next
We got there and our plans were vexed
My baby started picking the lock
But I was worried that she would get caught
And then, it came to mind
I remembered good old Yves Klein

I said, "Hey, hey, baby we don't need a press
Let's go home take off your dress
Lay some paper down on the ground
I'll ink you up and roll you around
Oh yeah, it's nothing new
I wanna make some monotypes with you"

So come on, pretty baby you know what I want to do
I wanna come around about midnight and make some monotypes with you
Track Name: A Painter At Heart
Come gather 'round people I'll tell you a tale
A tale of a man as thin as a rail
A printer at trade and a painter at heart
He grew tired and weary of making art

He was very well read in modern theory
His head engulfed in philosophy
Making prints just wasn't enough
So he threw down his v-gouge and picked up a brush

He says he's from nowhere in most ways that's true
He comes from the dust like most of us do
Though reluctant to speak of his lifelong ambitions
He tells of his past and major transitions

To see the world with eyes not our own
His philosophy of philosophy he owes to Foucault
And he practiced this practice in his everyday life
When he picked up the palette instead of the knife

Cause before he could even get to work he dealt with the stresses
Of spending most of his time cleaning other people's messes
Now he sits and he ponders reading Derrida and Barthes
Digesting their philosophies while he works on his art
People crowd round to see him as he tells of how
He used to make prints but he's a painter now

The towers of matrices he left in his wake
From the plains of Oklahoma to the Northeastern States
Stand in silence imbued with the knowledge
That he's left them behind just as he left college
With a brush in his hand that once held a brayer
The towers are silent they haven't a prayer

Come gather round people I'll tell you a tale
The tale of a man as thin as a rail
A printer at trade and a painter at heart
He grew tired and weary of making art
Track Name: Closet Français
Every Thursday night you'll find the speakers of French
They discuter in the corner bench
And the printmakers sit in the adjoining booth
Where we keep to ourselves remaining aloof
We're dropping from the eaves in search of a phrase
To impress the other artists quand nous parlons français
Oh, we feel so special printing all day
Dropping fancy phrases like bon à tirer

Yeah, we love our terminology but don't ask me why
When it comes time to parler, je suis un peu shy

It was in the month of May we had un bon idée
We decided it was time to apprendre le français
So we head to the cafe and we sit at the bar
Where we practice our French and print some pochoir
We're a little self-conscious, we're probably too shy
And we know Jean-Pierre's just a regular guy
We'll work up the nerve to approach him someday
But for now we're plenty happy speaking Closet Francais

We're dropping from the eaves in search of a phrase
To impress the other artists quand nous parlons français
Oh, we feel so special printing all day
Dropping fancy phrases like bon à tirer

Yeah, we love our terminology but don't ask me why
When it comes time to parler, je suis un peu shy
Track Name: The Unfortunate Nature of Lithography
I spend my days grinding away
Graining limestone day after day
I take care to treat you right
But you keep me up everynight
I need to make an apology
For the unfortunate nature of lithography

You ask me why but I don't know
That is just how the story goes
Nothing ever goes as planned
Prepare for that you'll be better then
I need to make an apology
For the unfortunate nature of lithography

Troubleshooting, troubleshooting
I feel like I'm always losing
Troubleshooting, troubleshooting
I feel like I'm always losing
Etch it hot, etch it cold
Dropping nitric never gets old
Etch it hot, etch it cold
Dropping nitric never gets old
So fuck it on to something better
Track Name: Once This Ghost Is Gone
Once this ghost is gone and I've left no trace
I'm gonna carry this burden to another place
Well it's heavy lifting all day long
but it's good for the spirit, it makes it strong
But if that ghost won't leave and I see those scratches
I'm gonna get my book, yeah my book of matches
And burn this hell-hole to the ground
And I'm not gonna worry about leaving town
Once this ghost is gone and I've left no trace
I'm gonna carry this burden to another place
Track Name: Blank Pages
After all this time the beginning's still hard to recall
But blank pages have no sympathy for an absence of thought
Am I already washed up or just spread too thin
Cause I keep on drawing the same things all over again

I'm caught in a pattern and it's testing my patience
But blank sheets of paper never lose a staring contest
Though they look pure and simple in their unblemished whiteness
I know of nothing better at concealing its secrets

Am I already washed up or just spread too thin
Cause I keep on drawing the same things all over again

My good intentions are afloat on a sinking feeling
And everybody knows that ideas are abundant but the good ones are fleeting
And I've heard whispers of muses kept in dark places
But either mine is mute or I've gone hard of hearing

I keep on drawing the same thing over and over again...
And I think I've reached the end
There's no hope for me, my friends
I think I've gone and fucked it up again

I keep on drawing the same thing over and over again...
And I think I've reached the end
There's no hope for me, my friends
Yeah, I keep drawing the same thing all over again