Shaking On The Ridge

by Buddy List

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1.
03:14
2.
04:37
3.
01:07
4.
04:23
5.
6.
06:02
7.

credits

released February 24, 2017

Ben Medcalf - Guitar / Vox
Taylor Noll - Guitar
Matty Seabass - Bass
Lou Henninger - Drums

Tracked, mixed and mastered by Mitch Clem
Assistant Engineer / Shakers - Miles Blunt

Big thanks to Paul for lending us the cabin for a weekend!

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Buddy List Richmond, Virginia

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Track Name: Spit It Out
If you're itching to elaborate, spit it out
so you're not wasting all our time.
If you step out for a cigarette, spit it out
cause now you're wasting all my time.

It's been almost 7 years, you stuck around
and you keep wasting all this time --
holding closely to the fear, you fucked around
but never too far off the line.

Another 7 years and you're never gonna find
the faberge you kept in the corner of your mind.
Track Name: 2012
2012 finally came and went and I still felt the same.
Finally got you off my back.
Years go by with nothing changed.
Time gets faster as you age, I never thanked you for that.

I was shaking on the ridge
So many flip phone messages.
Every night I kept you hid.
Dreaming of that plane ticket.
Then I'd call and you're not there,
your mother says she's unaware.
Then I'd call and you're not there,
left with nothing to compare.

2012 finally came and went and I still felt the same.
Finally got you off my back.
Years go by with nothing changed except the feelings and their range.
Part of me still wants that back.

Time and I can't look in the eye.
I am wrong to think that it minds.
Track Name: 2004
I found God on a bench in a middle school gym. I'll never forgive him.
All my friends on the bus we're making such a fuss.
Track Name: Rolling Stop
When I get off the phone, a true attempt at mental clarity -- it always fails.
Take a walk or jog or any well intentioned exercise a shrink suggests.
But as the walls and ceiling fans and sticky kitchen counter tops all plead a case, every part of me is picking daisies with the enemy.
A hectic place.

While I was on the ropes bouncing back from every single blow it seemed to land. My head was somewhere else, getting tickets for a rolling stop I never saw. Brian's in the shotgun and he's asks me if I'm doing fine.
I nod my head.
I'm comfortable, remiss.
I sink my hips into the bucket seat and crack my neck.
Track Name: Tricking Sleep
Every night I have to trick sleep to come inside and
if I can't then it coincides with subdued chimes behind my eyes.
Am I really doing this again?
And at what point do I tell my friends to watch my back?

Have I stretched myself too thin?
Like a tightrope dragged across the crater of the volcano of my fits.
Hold my breath while waiting for it to erupt.

I can't see your eyes,
cause every time I try to they seem to look right through you as you look through my eyes.
What's on your mind?

Every time I hear about your spinning mind, the broken glass it leaves behind and that website I feel it too.
I want to believe in things like you.
I want to believe in anything like I used to.

But you've stretched yourself too thin and you're connecting dots like some constellation that projects only in your room.
Applying meaning to your incongruous truths.

I can't see your eyes,
Cause every time I try to, they seem to look right through you as you look through my eyes.
What's on your mind?
Track Name: Bumper
When I saw you out there, folded in like I do when I'm sick.
Man I know just how it feels when all the words come out so dimly lit.
But lately it's been sunny.
Bowling strikes with all the bumpers up.
Stadium roofs have collapsed when all the lines I paint start to connect.

When I get home from work I start pulling on the blinds.
I like it just the same, a familiar brake light when I was on the road in the middle of the night.
I like it just the same, saviors burning through your sky.

I cannot explain how the pieces of this night pulled up out the drain and coalesce into the sight of everything I know swaying steady and in time.
I clap into my drink and for a moment I'm alright.

It's been running laps in my brain but I still chase it down the same.
In a moment of pure refrain a feeling has to reverberate.
It was like a car alarm in the night careening into the bedroom lights.
Now the angry neighbors peer through the blinds that I pulled tight.

Now I never have to explain the silent, solipsistic, inane self I make a point to keep inside behind these blinds that I pull tight.
Track Name: Dusty Yoga Mat
Waking rested from a fever dream as somebody's knocking at your door.
It's my point of view that keeps me so unglued.
I've been holding out for days.

All those books I bought that I keep by my bed, they've been sitting there for years now.
A dusty yoga mat in the corner of my room.
Man I miss the piece I once felt.

All the bedroom songs that I lost in the walls of the rented homes I found.
It's my point of view that keeps me so unglued.
I've been running around for days.

All those books I bought that I keep by my bed, they've been sitting there for years now.
A dusty yoga mat in the corner of my room.
Man I miss the piece I once felt.
But I still close eyes when I'm at my desk at work or in my car.
Try to block out the swirling of existence and all the white noise that I chase down.

I want to find the rush that I felt when I was 17 and hold it up.
I want to take a breath in the stream, crushed beneath the weight of fallen leaves.