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Greys

by Various Artists

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Emergencies recede before emerging properties: a ‘Crisis of Authority’. You lie before the lessons of economy. Enough, enough, enough: This isn't helping at all We're not empowered by the underdogs. Very smart people have written (and very smart people are often wrong): This country was “built to hide the bodies It's healthy to be out of hope”. These are the fish that rot from the head down (it had to be said, so put your hands down). He saw you from the car The aristocracy you are There's nothing to respect in how you “started from the bottom”, now you're animals and stars. Enough, enough, enough: They write the mystery out of us. Tonight your aspirations die. Stuck on the ground, we speak the language of the fluently down. Here's where they sell a public service to a private hotel. Very small people have fallen and Very smart people are often wrong.
3.
hihihihi i'm a stone cold bitch hihihihihi i'm a stone cold bitch hihihihi i'm a stone cold bitch hihihihihi i'm a stone cold bitch yeah hihihihi i'm a stone cold bitch you never saw me coming from the bottom of the hill hihihihi i'm a stone cold bitch got a crown full of lillies left my earrings in the dish hihihihi i'm a stone cold bitch when i cut off your head you won't even know you bled hihihihi i'm a stone cold bitch the tassels of my whips stay blowin in the wind
4.
Full Original Lyrics: Dark Pools (Music Will Not Save Us) by Leverage Models ... Directly and gently expose the quantitative signs, data-driven, (and) with no legal blindness (hard labor for the criminal & white). We don’t want your clothes to fail you. You will need surplus funds, one small hedged option (two to fall in love). And then the cannibals won beneath a sky that had gagged on the trees, and they could not eat enough. I enjoyed every employee my tribe had bought – this defined our love. This defines our love: • We may not know our ideals anymore • We will betray a common goal • We are unequal Just take this and go. I know music will not save us. You wore a mask on the phone and I could honestly NOT. STOP. DANCING; and you were trading in dark pools; and my dead mother was there and she could NOT. STOP. DANCING. I was in prison awhile (an unreliable witness spoke up, I was sold out by my friends). And I enjoyed the fever that it brought. I’ve enjoyed asylum from the top. We may not know how to feel anymore. This time I won't tell you that you'll heal. You will be harmed by the men who will love you…I know. I know that words will not save us. [Next: a woman I don’t know spoke in tongues while my mother and I danced]
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Are they the people? Make the waves Make the hurdles Get in the way? Are they the people? Shock the growing Uncle Incision, Get out the way We’re always for you, Fernando Jumping Saying Your Name
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If I Let You Stay by Leverage Models ... When your flights are grounded Your wallet is tight and the runway full of hail The airport is empty You always come to stay. If I let you stay you might never leave, [and] finally believe what I believe. Tonight could get cold and I've got nothing to eat It's been years now and the machinery has crushed me faster than you You had to lie Like you were calm in the ground And I was never very good at keeping my worst opinions down. Only this time (one more night to sit and smile), and you might finally believe what I believe. And maybe you can give me something to help me sleep. Tomorrow the day will just beat you down. Until then I'm around. This city plays plays a vicious host. Some days it feels like you’re wearing someone's ghost. You were such a strong kid Now it seems like you get thinner every year If I could, I would get fat and happy for you (a satire of control). If I let you stay you might never leave.
7.
Day One by Leverage Models ... Little towns revive, then they choke. And failure is a turn-on in every farmland small town I know. We hate to be talked down to but we love it in song. I won’t tell you it’ll be all right, I don’t know. But it gets better than this (well, not for certain, but it happens). At 40 years old, sentimental songs can seem like ethical transactions. Things have to fall apart some more before we know why we care or what we’re here for. You have dressed yourselves for class war and I am wearing everything that I own. This is ‘last call’, where are you going? Is there somewhere safe you can stay? I make you laugh and you make me laugh, and I know that we both feel like we are parodies of God. The airwaves are full of no one like us, of models who brag. Isn’t it strange we’re inspired by these people so rich and loud, and so perfect, saying they’ve won? Day 1: We can do better than this (I’m trying harder to believe it…)
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Dark Pools (Music Will Not Save Us) by Leverage Models ... Directly and gently expose the quantitative signs, data-driven, (and) with no legal blindness (hard labor for the criminal & white). We don’t want your clothes to fail you. You will need surplus funds, one small hedged option (two to fall in love). And then the cannibals won beneath a sky that had gagged on the trees, and they could not eat enough. I enjoyed every employee my tribe had bought – this defined our love. This defines our love: • We may not know our ideals anymore • We will betray a common goal • We are unequal Just take this and go. I know music will not save us. You wore a mask on the phone and I could honestly NOT. STOP. DANCING; and you were trading in dark pools; and my dead mother was there and she could NOT. STOP. DANCING. I was in prison awhile (an unreliable witness spoke up, I was sold out by my friends). And I enjoyed the fever that it brought. I’ve enjoyed asylum from the top. We may not know how to feel anymore. This time I won't tell you that you'll heal. You will be harmed by the men who will love you…I know. I know that words will not save us. [Next: a woman I don’t know spoke in tongues while my mother and I danced]
10.
When the Money's Gone by Leverage Models ... I'm coming back when the money's gone. I like you better when you're breaking down and miserable. You should know this kind of episodic family drama won't just smile and die. I'm feeling tired and politically exposed. A cheaper version of my younger self, and lost in my clothes, heaven knows (But, Heaven never had the urge to finally pull the plug). Are we getting old enough to rationalize that this is ‘healthy competition’ now? Let's talk about our feelings: My body's aging and I'm just another asset away from being bored with life. There isn't time to operate alone. We have no control. It seems like we'll sing anything if the melody's good, if you can live in the beat. [And] it’s hard to rhyme about ‘Secret Renditions’, or ‘The Final Days of an American Culture War That Will Almost Certainly Take Us Down’. So this is healthy competition now. Let's talk about our feelings: my body's aging and I'm just another asset away from being bored with life. There isn't time to operate alone. When you see this you’ll come home. You have no control. ♥ We have before us kids lining the road. Little men with rifles whose hearts bleed for you. We have before us bombs lining the road. And little men with rifles.
11.
This isn’t easy for you to explain If divine, then it’s ugly and strange This is all you think of: women and god. Nature inclines to repair, but Fucking nothing is holding you there This is all you know: Everything that moves Moves towards violence. Design a room Make it plumb, square and level Let’s die young, but like a room well-constructed for what follows us. All this time We’ve been framing out an ending Over time, provisions have been made for the toll. I know: ‘Breakage’ is to ‘scrap’ as ‘heart’ [is] to ‘mind’ And I can see us weaken over time All of this is trite but keeps a truth in it. This isn’t easy for you to explain You’re divided in body and brain Still it’s all you think of: Dancing and dying and family Design a room…etc.
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Day One by Leverage Models ... Little towns revive, then they choke. And failure is a turn-on in every farmland small town I know. We hate to be talked down to but we love it in song. I won’t tell you it’ll be all right, I don’t know. But it gets better than this (well, not for certain, but it happens). At 40 years old, sentimental songs can seem like ethical transactions. Things have to fall apart some more before we know why we care or what we’re here for. You have dressed yourselves for class war and I am wearing everything that I own. This is ‘last call’, where are you going? Is there somewhere safe you can stay? I make you laugh and you make me laugh, and I know that we both feel like we are parodies of God. The airwaves are full of no one like us, of models who brag. Isn’t it strange we’re inspired by these people so rich and loud, and so perfect, saying they’ve won? Day 1: We can do better than this (I’m trying harder to believe it…)
13.
If I Let You Stay by Leverage Models ... When your flights are grounded Your wallet is tight and the runway full of hail The airport is empty You always come to stay. If I let you stay you might never leave, [and] finally believe what I believe. Tonight could get cold and I've got nothing to eat It's been years now and the machinery has crushed me faster than you You had to lie Like you were calm in the ground And I was never very good at keeping my worst opinions down. Only this time (one more night to sit and smile), and you might finally believe what I believe. And maybe you can give me something to help me sleep. Tomorrow the day will just beat you down. Until then I'm around. This city plays plays a vicious host. Some days it feels like you’re wearing someone's ghost. You were such a strong kid Now it seems like you get thinner every year If I could, I would get fat and happy for you (a satire of control). If I let you stay you might never leave.
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15.
A Scout's Prayer (What a Man Knows) by Leverage Models ... Shove me around. I was in charge. It’s all my fault. Again. Bandage her up. Do you think that she'll come to? Tell me it's all right. Show me how to ask for something bright (or hit me 'til I smile). Here is my uncle: He asks me, in the rapture, where I'll land. Asks if I'm a man. He says: "You're hardly at the age where you can say that you know precisely DICK about what pain is. Let it go, and think on this: When the lights go out you'll have to make a fire. You will have to be a Boy Scout when the power lines fall. As the cities get cold we'll have to make a fire, when the lights go out all over the world. "Turn around. Bodies are facts when they can be used. And you're a tiny sprout…a simple pale of shit and sentiment flailing around. Don't you tell me you know…you DON’T. Your mother was strange, she held you too close. I used to think that you was strange, but now I want you to know that here, together, in this hunting blind, well…*I* can see where you'll go (what a man knows, when the lights go out): YOU’LL HAVE TO MAKE A FIRE…” &c.
16.
original lyrics from "A life around terrified animals" by Leverage Models ... You say you're never gonna leave him alone with anyone else. And this was right: you brought it all on yourself. She was a bitter old man by 18, trading a gun for a suit (You go feral and blind, and are broken, by too much school) There was the Hospital And then the Group Home, And then the "Get your shit together for your baby son…” A ‘pyramid scheme’ to manage in your 20's Then you broke down: “Dump me in the quarry on King’s Road. Re-mantling the silence in the forest is a full-time undertaking. Undertaken from us were the luminous and heavy condensations. Conversations are the evidence of needlepoint conscriptions. Will you take me?” (Nonsense.) We built a life around terrified animals, splayed out in silage and carved into stone Antibiotics surround every love letter, dividing the excrement from the blood. Staring at your son He's borrowed your resentment and you're begging for him to default. (a) A good person (b) A good mother (c) A friend PICK ONE. “Dump me in the quarry on King’s Road. I feel tired. I feel crowd-sourced. I feel limbic. I feel like a dual-axle truck that's passing you on the right. I feel like speaking in the language of oppression. Have I? I feel an episode coming on.”
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When the Money's Gone by Leverage Models .... I'm coming back when the money's gone. I like you better when you're breaking down and miserable. You should know this kind of episodic family drama won't just smile and die. I'm feeling tired and politically exposed. A cheaper version of my younger self, and lost in my clothes, heaven knows (But, Heaven never had the urge to finally pull the plug). Are we getting old enough to rationalize that this is ‘healthy competition’ now? Let's talk about our feelings: My body's aging and I'm just another asset away from being bored with life. There isn't time to operate alone. We have no control. It seems like we'll sing anything if the melody's good, if you can live in the beat. [And] it’s hard to rhyme about ‘Secret Renditions’, or ‘The Final Days of an American Culture War That Will Almost Certainly Take Us Down’. So this is healthy competition now. Let's talk about our feelings: my body's aging and I'm just another asset away from being bored with life. There isn't time to operate alone. When you see this you’ll come home. You have no control. ♥ We have before us kids lining the road. Little men with rifles whose hearts bleed for you. We have before us bombs lining the road. And little men with rifles.
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Senators I am a raft on the ocean with undocumented eyesight And I feel the Gulf Stream High on that kind of midmorning sunlight, the kind of light that sells a lie. And you feel “alright”. Okay, so, We made coffee on the hotplate We ate ramen in the hallway We identified the exits (just in case). I know you don't do this most days, And you're falling for the ‘wrong kind’, But does it feel all right? Do I remind you of your dad? When you were born your father wondered what kind of drunk you would be. We have spoken up and savaged I'm an [Object] You're a [Measuring Tool], an [Instrument For Shaking Down a Government in Turmoil]. I have left my body. You are breaking someone's bread for “Progress”. I am a [Raft On the Ocean] You are an [Animal Skin Rug] I don't expect you to embrace this (and we're both drunk). If not tonight, maybe next year I'll aspire to something better – maybe a butcher or a driver – and I will fill my lungs with you. When you were born your mother (glittering, mad to see, neurologically lost), wondered what kind of Senator you would be. We won't speak up Our language fails to find a hold Sincerity slides, as advertised Our brothers joined their fathers…sung for banks And this is not our protest This is just the end of Progress.
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Hold these designs as closely your children And concentrate on everything that you love Until you seem to fly Though sometimes you fail (with a masculine shudder) You’ll be protected by the camera. Do something wrong Invest and watch it grow And notice the way that scared little kid still shows (The way light decides to give up on motion at absolute zero) So we can mystify the data. Captains of Industry: are you listening now? Wake me when you’re ready for the blood and dancing You and I are not alone I’m an Actor You’re in Casting Weakness in design And failure in execution Resulted in friends that hurried to leave the room In fact they seemed to fly Like horses in fear Like Believers at a party that celebrates all this nothing that’s inside us. Disciples of Hysteria: Are you listening now? Slap me when you’re ready for an end to this dancing You and I were created wrong You’re a sound and I’m a sentence. (But want me, hold me, lift me up, lead me on).

about

"No one leaves home / unless home is the mouth of a shark"
- Home, by Warsan Shire

Leverage Models and Anachronisme Records present, GREYS, a 21-track compilation benefiting the Mohawk Valley Resource Center for Refugees ("MVRCR"). Contributors used material from Leverage Models’, Whites (2018) as a creative starting point, recording new work, including thoroughly unorthodox re-constructions and original music in some form of lyrical / musical ‘conversation’ with the originals. Greys features new work by a crowd of idiosyncratic and brilliant independent artists/producers. As with Whites, the Greys album has a wide wingspan -- from the dance-floor to the bedroom floor -- amplifying its ecstatic, dark and fragile notes, and pivoting around themes of inclusion, privilege, abuse by caregivers & authorities, and a stubbornly persistent belief in social hope.

100% of album sales and streaming royalties will be donated to the MVRCR, an organization in upstate New York’s Mohawk Valley region that assists refugees, immigrants, and "limited English proficient individuals" through a range of community-centered programs in order to help them achieve independence and self-sufficiency. The organization also enacts programs to build a more multi-cultural and understanding community.

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released August 28, 2019

Curated by Leverage Models. Mastered by D. James Goodwin @ THE ISOKON, Woodstock, NY

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