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Confetti in a Coalmine

by Matt DeMello

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ehSteve
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ehSteve One of those albums you find yourself coming back to, each time appreciating it more than the last. Favorite track: [A-Typical] Candidate (For Rampage Violence) ︻╦╤─.
Lloyde Olonko
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Lloyde Olonko Yup! This guy can belt out a tune! Here is the perfect representative of the classic rocking swing that embodies the grit & glitz of NYC ☝ Favorite track: 💀💀💀 Like a Body In a Hearse <Butcha Gotta Catch Me First>.
Ian Cat
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Ian Cat DeMello's second "real" album is completely ridiculous. It's all over the place, but yet feels cohesive as a whole. Less of a smorgasbord and more of a cheap, dimly lit buffet with the staff watching what you're nervously deciding to eat, grinning madly as you put the greasy leftovers on your plate... there's nothing quite like it. Despite all the genre blending and shifting, it's all surprisingly focused and flows together like the soda from an old fountain at that weird buffet. Favorite track: Eight: mybrightestfl🔥me feat. Liz Wagner Biro & Monster Furniture.
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1.
Every year at half past midnight on January 27th, Wolfgang rolls over in his grave as I get one step closer to heaven. But yesterday he said to me, Something very strange indeed, That if one day we should disagree, Then I should make like the Biebs and love myself in this harmony: 'Cuz I'm too happy to be sad and blue, with friends like you, I swear it's true! And I'm too sunny for this raincloud day, with smiles as strange, As centigrade. I know, I know there will be snow, For so few tomorrows as in years ago, When I was barely old enough to know, How lucky a poor sap like me, Could hope to be, So fancy free. I hear, I hear your heartfelt cheers, Wishing me a hundred thousand years, Before I should expect my slow inevitable death, Which is why I couldn't be any more simply more tickled that you're here. So thanks for stopping by!
2.
Hey sunshine! Need a little bit of my sunshine, In the morning when I wake up, Like the coffee in my cup. Early morning rise & shine. Didn't even know I had an appetite, What I need ain't considered polite for the time of day, Ask me once or ask me twice, Ask me thrice if it shouldn't suffice, But you know that my answer's the same when I smile and say: Hey sunshine! Need a little bit of my sunshine, In the morning when I wake up, Like the coffee in my cup. Need a little bit of my sunshine, Need a little bit of my sunshine, sunshine, Need a little bit of my sunshine when I wake. Late to bed & late to rise That summer sun seemed catch me by surprise When you know a little B&B never hurt no-one Cream & sugar but not too much! A glass of OJ with that sparkling touch, when you know I could use another toast before I'm done, Hey sunshine! Need a little bit of my sunshine, In the morning when I wake up, Like the coffee in my cup. I need a bit of my sunshine, I need a bit of my sunshine, Need a little bit of my sunshine every day.
3.
A mind, it’s own prison A parasite cast in nuclear fission I am aghast and dismayed At the lack of any salient vision Wish that I could escape Spit in the face of every single tradition Imagine every single day If I could just make every correct decision But don’t you know you have to catch me first When I’m the kind of guy whose drunk from thirst When it goes from bad to worst If you want me you know you have to catch me first When I’m so far out of reach it hurts Just like a cold or curse Or even a body in a Hearse Just like a body in a Hearse... Now don’t you think for a minute, That there is simply no effort in it, Cuz when it comes down to business, Nothing I do is ever finished. And there can be no forgiveness, But then again it’s not the end now, is it? Just Never enough for just one visit Cause if you blink once then you just might miss it But don’t you know you gotta to catch me firs, When I’m the kind of guy who's drunk from thirst, When it goes from bad to worse, But don’t you know you gotta to catch me first, When I’m so far out of reach it hurts, Just like a cold or curse, Or even a body in a Hearse Don’t you know you have to catch me first, When I’m the kind of guy who's drunk from thirst, When it goes from bad to worse, But don't you know you gotta catch me first, When I'm so far out of reach it hurts, Just like a cold or curse, Or even a body in a Hearse... Just like a body in a Hearse...
4.
When I was a boy I would wait for the dawn Before I could go to sleep. The price of the day would be paid by retaining that sweet, sweet, sweet release. And at midnight I will walk among those Drunk on more than alcohol, To those who climb higher than they would Even dare of falling... And you know it by the way they line up the same order that they came, And I don’t blame them at all. There are those here among us, Who know they’re the chorus, For whom martyrs are slain, Who still see others in chains, Who are trying in vain, To pay back the debts that we can’t wish away, And I can’t compensate the Machiavellian ways, That the rest of the world insists on operating, So I twist and I turn as I yearn to relearn, That it’s more than a matter of waiting my turn. And at midnight I will walk among those "Holier than thou” demanding Flesh in the raw, While men made of straw, Argue in the dark for too long, And you know it by the way they type those first, last, and middle names, And I don’t blame them at all. We happy few who die in love with Cause over apprehension remember Democracy’s the dictatorship of whomever frames the question: “For who do you lock your doors my dear sweet friends?” And I don’t blame them at all... Caffeine and THC, alcohol, melatonin in a symphony, Sleep will be the death of me but if I get there first say a prayer for thee...
5.
[Instrumental]
6.
I think I’ve got a lot of thinking, I think I’ve got a lot of thinking to do. I think I’ve got a lot of thinking about thinking about talking about thinking about talking to you. And yes, I promise to be honest, yes, I promise to be honest and true. Yes, I promise to be conscious, and honest, of all voices and all choices and all different points of view. Then I fall into a landslide of my own self worth, When it boils down to a choice of words, Between myself and the herd? Must I subscribe to the slow backslide of humanity, or is it a matter of sanity, or the gravity, that snakes between these nouns and verbs? I was thinking of another word for love, That’s not the word I was sure I was thinking of, But I thank you for your contribution to the size of my vocabulary. I was thinking of another word for love, That’s not the word I was sure I was thinking of, So I thank you for your contribution to the greatest conversation ever everyday. I swear I didn’t mean to tell you, I swear I didn’t mean to tell you any single, consequential untruths, and I furthermore prosthelytize I will apologize roughly a million times if that should sound considerably uncouth. And yes I promise to be forthwith, yes I promise to be forthwith with you Yes I promise to be forthwith, about the forces, and the causes, and about the course switch between the captain and the crew But then just like the water molecules in the atmosphere When would-ja guess who should perservere Through the frigid air despite a climate of such rank despair, asking me to decide... When I subside the urge of my dark side into fantasy, And away from catastrophies that I cannot see, but go hand-in-hand with sins of pride — I'm not sure from whence my words should come, But their total's greater than the sum, Of all things that I’ve tried to say, Whether coerced or to persuade A new found conscience clear Of all charges made in baseless fears With diction cursed with freedom of choice We victims of that basement voice, That knows these are not children’s toys I was thinking of another word for love, That’s not the word I was sure I was dreaming of, But I thank you for your contribution to the size of my vocabulary. I was thinking of another word for love, That’s not the word I was sure I was dreaming of, But come to think of it, it occurs to me that the only acceptable answer is your name It’s your name It’s your name
7.
All is fair in love and war and and growing past deceit, Voted Most Dramatic by Neo-Fascists the agony of defeat, Placing memories in different kinds of contexts Childhood no longer esteemed Simply... Take the chance that I'll find some deeper meaning If I could just pick the right team For me Handcuffed, trunk locked, blindfolded down a forest road Can’t help but grit my teeth, For all my talent is confetti in a coalmine In situations like these, A friendly debate between the headrests in the backseat Over which mouths are worthy to feed, Hope that the driver knows that it's a felony to have all the proof that he needs Because by the time they know what to do with me I’ll be digging a shallow grave, And yes by the time they know what to do with people like me There'll be nothing to save. Land of the lugenpresse, slick-haired yes men Always chosen for the kickball team, Home of the free to be as big as any asshole That the comments thread lets you be About how behind every participation trophy case Is an AR-15, Aiming at a bottle of prescription amphetamines Trying so hard not to make a scene Because violence as love will always pay dividends On the lacking honesty we all feel, at the respect for our intelligence shown by those who decide what we should think is real-- Of a kind from the bowels of history From the way we all smile and nod, At always ending up beholding the mystery of that pearly white, all-State firing squad.
8.
I’m not the shock and awe campaign To find which hearts and minds remain That can be sold a fast food chain, For the price of bread and novocaine. Another peasant family cursed, With their well-being a reverse Chain of events that lead to this, Circumstances that I can't predict. I’d walk all night through smoke and rain Before I’d let some sad refrain, Show it’s facade to me again, And turn into my brightest flame, Just when you think the thing is slain, It rears its ugly head again, Didn’t know the source of all that pain, Couldn't turn into my brightest flame... Tell me who died and made you pay, For the way you treat those that you disdain, Who took your father's name in vain, As you made haste a sad display, Of what was once thought so perverse, No final prayers, no need of nurse, Did not think it would come to this, The truth we know it contradicts Oh no, it’s the weight of the world upon my sleeve Oh no, I didn’t think they would catch the melody For sure, Backtracking my steps for all to see Oh no, Nothing according to any foreseeable need Oh but like a coin at the bottom of a wishing well Or all the good intentions that can pave the road to hell Oh but like a heart made out of asterisks, Or the deviations that can play your mind a trick Oh no, but like a coin at the bottom of a wishing well, Or all the good intentions that pave the road to hell...
9.
Wish I was Sam Giancana, Wish I was Julius Caesar The world wouldn’t deny me my god given birthright And the trials of life would become easier A thousand bottles of your best Boujalais Sitting in the sun all day And I don’t mind if I do! Now listen here Mr. Hand-me-Down And all those who truly believe That the world is made for all the golf carts and tennis courts That one man could possibly need, They say if you love something then give it away. But I guess it’s just a matter of taste, And I don’t mind if I do! And the peaced punk says Please be honest baby That the needs of the few Outweigh the needs of the many Or the chosen few Who say so to so many... "What’s a tyrant to do, What’s a tyrant to do… What’s a tyrant to do with a chosen few?" But give another barrel a day To those with ten thousand dollar plates... They say if you love something, don’t let it go to waste And I don’t mind if I do! And we who die in love with cause over all apprehension, Die of a disease too terrifying to mention. And if the members of the press could ask their final questions, The management at this restaurant... would like to teach you a lesson.
10.
And yes I promise to remember all your December birthdays, And oh those very special get off of work days, To spend with family and friends! And yes I know it is impossible on don't be a jerk days, To endure the stresses and unsavory delays, between the means and the ends. But just remember — that you're the Zoey who says, "Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am!" just like David Bowie. 'Cuz you're the peanut, And nobody messes with the peanut, And everyone’s guessing that the peanut Is probably messing wichooo! 'Cuz she’s the peanut, And no one’s allergic to the peanut. There’s no need to worry when the peanut Butters her way up to youuuuu! And yes I promise to make sense of all your being-on-Earth days, Between the frankincense, the gold, and the myrrh days That plague the end of the year! Yes I will try my best to be there through the get back to work haze, The hustle, bustle of the new age rat race For you have nothing to fear! 'Cuz just remember, that you're the Zoe who knows that If you know you don't know something, then you're truly all knowing. 'Cuz you're the peanut, And nobody messes with the peanut, And everyone’s guessing that the peanut Is probably messing wichooo! 'Cuz she’s the peanut, And no one’s allergic to the peanut. There’s no need to worry when the peanut Butters her way up to youuuuu!

about

"'Confetti in a Coalmine', sounds like Jonathan Coulton binging Van Dyke Parks after taking those pills from Limitless. Perhaps 'They Might Be Giants teaming up with Frank Zappa to write a musical' is a more apt comparison – as long as you also include references to Ben Folds, Todd Rundgren, Chris Opperman, and maybe a dash of Phish at their most absurd."
- Chris Ingalls, Pop Matters

"A demented carousel of musical genres and stylings that’s perfectly at home in a world of ongoing pandemic and ferocious, brainless scrolling... The unifying themes of irreverence, absolute disdain, and jaunty theatrics combined with DeMello’s musical charm and a slew of special guests make this LP a thoroughly entertaining and thought-provoking listen."
- Glide Magazine

"It’s an interesting time to be living in America, to say the least. DeMello sees the weirdness of our time and wrote ‘(A-Typical) Candidate [For Rampage Violence]’ as a response to the strange. In Zappa fashion, sometimes it takes an absurd piece of art to pull back the curtain."
- It's Psychedelic Baby Magazine

For Jennifer & Stephen, nothing but my *finest* hooks. -MMD-N(2B)

In loving memory of Brian Wilson, the Cat, the Handsomest King of Butt Mountain, first of his name. 3/11/08 - 3/6/22


Music and Lyrics by Matthew DeMello, except Tracks 2 and 10, by Matthew DeMello and Jennifer Nordmark.

Special Thanks:
Busi, Roo, Jen, Liz, Amanda, Anti Matter: Anya & Devin & Matt Cain & Ben & Schwartz, Rootstock Republic: Jarvis & Juliette, Becky (for hooking that uppppp!), Yustin, James Osborne, Noex, Jim--TAXXESS, Ilya/I❤️Noise, Mu & Vu, Laura & Joel, the not-so-tiniest Zo-zo bean, TomTom, Jababy Isla, Margot Louise, Ian, Steve, Tom, Tim (who deserves noted and special credit as a somalier for recommending the wine mentioned in Track 9), Tom, Kevin, Cory, Katy, XBS, Don, Mary Lynn!, Mimi, Smig, Alpha, Teej, Kristos, Thadd, Noex, Incentive, Emily Smith, Pete Murphy, Billy Anderson, Billy Hubbard, Matt Cain (somehow but also that tuba track), J Brodsky, Heidi, Kayleigh, Jane, Russ, Taylor, Disco Sam, Mr. Morgan, Mrs. Williams, Billiam, Jon, Mike, Everyone on the Advent Aspects, Glide Magazine, Rob Duguay, Dream Shore, and Virtual Oasis discords and especially So?ing Machine and Eternal Judge. Louder Than War and Global Texas Chronicle for their eyeballs and attention spans. Z-Tapes, Mo, Brook Pridemore, Brett, DJ Abe, K-Dawg, (yes even you, Chris, and Geoff, and Ros), Diamond, and Ron.

Cover art by Justin Whitkin, cover design and layout by Matthew DeMello.

All songs (c) Francophile Music 2022 and available from Salieri Records

credits

released July 29, 2022

All music, lyrics, pianos, guitars, synthesizers, drum machines, Noteflight MIDI engineering, string and horn arrangements, glockenspiel, complaining endlessly, and all vocals not otherwise noted below by Matthew DeMello

Mixed and Mastered by John Alexander Busi, except Tracks 1 and 9 by Andrew "Roo" O'Donnell and John Alexander Busi at NEWSPACE Audio in Queens August 2017 - May 2021.

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