INGA

by UPHOLSTERY

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    featuring original artwork by Sabrina Small

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05:58
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08:11
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credits

released May 10, 2019

CAST

Kate Black-Regan - Vocals 1 3 4 6 8

Dan Blacksberg - Trombone 4 7 8
Sousaphone 7

Dorie Byrne - Accordion 1 2 8

Arjun Dube - Drums 2 5 6 7 8

David Fishkin - Tenor sax 6 8
Baritone sax 7

Marty Gottlieb-Hollis - Trumpet 2 6 7 8

Becca Graham - Trumpet 4 6 7 8

Rachel Icenogle - Cello 1 2 5 6 7 8 9

C. Kennedy - Violin 1 2 8 9

Settled Arrows - Vocals 5

Chris Ward - Drums 1 3 4

John Wilder - Bass 2 6 8

Anna Young - Vocals 1 9

Jeremy Prouty - Vocals 1 2 4 6 8
Guitar 1 2 3 4 6 8
Bass 1 4 7
Piano 4 5 9



Produced & engineered by Johann Sebastian
Recorded at The Juicebox, Philadelphia, PA, 2018
Mastered by Dave Downham at Gradwell House
Released on Exotic Fever Records

All songs written by Jeremy Prouty except:
‘The Man in the Red Cape’ - lyrics by C. Kennedy
All cello arrangements by Rachel Icenogle

Album art - 'Wormhole no. 2' by Sabrina Small
Design by Melissa MacNair

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UPHOLSTERY Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Upholstery has been churning out its particular style of experimental rock since 2007. Drawing from a wide range of musical influences - from Tom Waits to King Crimson, from early jazz to post-punk - the group has developed a sonic landscape that is both timeless and confounding. When not on stage, the group can be found in the orchestra pit composing and performing original scores for theater. ... more

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Track Name: INGA
Inches patrolled by wenches
With shaky digits on the switches

it’s not going anywhere

In the midst of a fit, tussled and tarnished
Two twins are pit, play their parts quite caustic

With spines aligned in wait
And tithes on the minds of state

If only, if only, if only
If only if

In the midst of a fit, tussled and tarnished
Two twins are pit, play their parts and their cards caustic

Where hounds in gowns await
Their brand new austere estate

Inches patrolled by payroll wenches
With no idea where their pension is

Where hounds in gowns await
Their shiny new austere estate

If only, if only, if only

Ça ne va nulle part
il me pèse
Track Name: The Late Trane
The bird’s dead
At least that’s what Charlie said
Or what I thought I heard him say

Billie’s been beat down, beat red
The dive’s all but done for, left for dead
The proud kneel, but not to pray

Starving minds, robbed of due fame
All wax bows to clay
Throats like in wait for Amtrak trains
Down so low, they look forward to pain

Now it’s all grand schemes and moonbeam bread
No hallowed grand left un-tread
Begging in a near-desperate way

Now it’s mink-down, straight down through the head
End all, see all, know all, to bed
All wax bows to clay

Stay with me awhile, if it’s all the same
One inside head is one inside brain

throats lie, await Amtrak trains
down so low, they look forward to pain
as their shoulders flutter something quite profane
and this last hit is for the late Trane
Track Name: Constrict the Craw
As I steal a sheet
Of compressed dead tree

To mop up a spell
From the leaden well

Attempt to peel
Brass shaving and steel

Full. Cubes. Culled.
From the chorus of dull

We row our shoal
To the shores of our toll

Commit to toil
Try and coerce the oil

To consider a stall
To constrict the craw
Track Name: Against Their Will
Less wind hits your back while you’re traveling forward
More hits your face when you’re standing still
The hard water wears the softer boulders
Pi-bonds breaking against their will

Less you’ve seen the less you want to move forward
More or less, that’s why we’re standing still
The hard skulls crack the softer discourse
Bright lights pushing against their will

They won’t change
From a place
To a frame
Where it’s safe

I don’t get around much anymore
Not too sure I ever will
Time won’t tell us what’s in store
But I can tell ya it’s worse standing still

Less of the old ways, less of those out to get ya
More of the times on an even keel
Hard years a-comin’ says the softer scripture
Idols cast aside against their will

Less land’s left and there’s no much left for ya
More goes to waste aways away from the spill
Hard-headed swine make it into the farmhouse
Fowl sow their clothes, against their will

They won’t change
From a place
To a frame
Where it’s safe

I don’t get around much anymore
Not too sure I ever will
Time won’t tell us what’s in store
But I can tell ya it’s worse standing still

I don’t get around much anymore
Time won’t tell us what’s in store
Less wind hits your back while you’re traveling forward
More of the times on an even keel
Not too sure I ever will
More or less, that’s why we’re standing still
Track Name: The Man in the Red Cape
Let me in, the cold voice said
In a space of space, but no breath

Should we be wrapped in heat
That breathed and fed

So far, so cold. Yet dimensionless
In dreams, blue lips

As two halves, meaningless
Blind to forget

A half-dead spectrum left
That breathed and fed

There was a time before this place
When cold could melt
And words could go
Left unsaid
Unbred and unfed

But puddles turned to poison
And every poison a place
Where she last lay
And held his broke, his broken
His broken head

To want is to forget
Heat agape
Bled out, elate
One cell. Create

And it’s too late
It’s too late
Track Name: Dead as Dillinger
Dead as Dillinger
alone at last
I haven’t been this far south
In a year and a half

When you’ve got instinct
There’s no room for proof
Besides - they’d all still be alive
If they’d done what I told them to

Are you a doctor? Then I don’t want to hear it!
Or a snake charmer? Then I don’t want to know it!
Are you a doctor? No!
Or a snake charmer? No!

Your PO called
said you’re wanted in the attic
Didn’t create this situation
but at least I’m dealing with it

It’s the sad truth
time is on your side
The hours, like roaches
see how they scatter with the light

Are you a doctor? Then I don’t want to hear it!
Or a snake charmer? Then I don’t want to know it!
Are you a doctor? No!
Or a snake charmer? No!

Lord knows love grows where my Rosemary goes

Don’t heed the lies of Miss Doris Day
It takes a long time to die, I’m talking days
Drenched in panic
Useless
just standing there
There’s an ache of calm
then out of the blue
the whole places turns into one big

Are you a doctor? Then I don’t want to hear it!
Or a snake charmer? Then I don’t want to know it!
Are you a doctor? No!
Or a snake charmer? No!
Track Name: Aten Impaled
A loss that cannot be mourned
Channel Six coyotes are ready with the bios of those scorned

Steel and lead-ridden. Switching off.
The great evacuation led by the cotton-mouthed moth

Ducts and pores barren. The annual ritual stale.
And yet her chest is wrenching as if her king is once again impaled

Mascara ran so long
She feels strange with cheeks pale
In strange bed, her jaw hangs lucid
As if was once again, he was impaled

Guardsmen speak of revolving. It escapes her meek grasp
Only the living question crossfire, as if her lost anchor was to be the last

Spilling over the procession, the beams botched their cue
Gowns and gums glisten as the 19th regiment’s 21st cartridge flew

Sun was supposed to slack this day
Yet it was part of the teeming hail
One more bond broken
Even Aten wished her king impaled

Mascara ran so long
She feels strange with cheeks pale
In strange bed, her jaw hangs lucid
As if was once again, he was impaled
Track Name: INGA {Reprise}
Ça ne va nulle part
c'est vieux comme le temps
Ça ne va nulle part
il a toujours été

Ça ne va nulle part
Un grillon dans la brume
Ça ne va nulle part
il me pèse

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