Gilded Oldies

by Cataldo

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Geronimo
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Geronimo This is pop done right. I love the homemade, lo-fi feel of the vocal recordings, because other than just plain sounding good, they put you in the position of listening to Cataldo as if he was in front of you telling you a story. It was a pleasant surprise to see some really well put toghether lyrics, so much so to intrigue my music-focused brain. Not to overlook the amazing composition gimmicks evenly spread throughout the record, like the enfatic brass notes just in the right places. Love it. Favorite track: The Beast.
PeKoHoliCA
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PeKoHoliCA Fuck. Fuck. Keeps getting better. Shut up and take my money. Favorite track: In Now and Then.
Mattias Evangelista
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Mattias Evangelista Phenomenal album. Gorgeous. Hope to see much more of him in the future. Favorite track: Gilded Oldies.
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1.
Say, on the street or on the bus. In a moment when it’s not a struggle to trust how you swing in provenance unknown. And the most that you can offer is “I’ll be in now and then.” Rebecca draped across the trees. Rebecca, Rebecca, in every charming thing now. So if you’re looking for the beast, If you ever want to suffer-- she’ll be in now and then.
2.
Something inside of you says “don’t make a sound.” So you lay quiet until a darkness falls and you get the feeling there is no one around. You slip your hand inside your shirt to feel a heart that’s wondering. What awaits you and who’ll wait up to meet you now that you have polished off the drinking story? what awaits you and who’ll wait up to meet you now that you are jacked up on the gilded oldies? I thought I’d let you know that I have eloped with new ideas on how the ending works. And I’m a big boy so I had to let them go. But all God’s creatures have their bridge to burn: this is mine smoldering. What awaits you and who’ll wait up to meet you now that you are terrifying morning glory? what awaits you and who’ll wait up to meet you now That you are jacked up on the gilded oldies? I ask the room if it can hang tough but the room won’t confirm or deny if it is cool to play this off the cuff. So I will sit on my hands, a lack of action is one way to decide. What a way to, a way to wait out that black night. Yes, it’s a long walk with your map still folded. I squint my eyes, it’s true, to see things written in the sky Cuz we’re both jacked up on the gilded oldies.
3.
Time could be the wing that breezelessly carries you over this ridiculous scene, the bric-a-brac: opulent, chintzy, figurines that make me crazy when they sing. Of which I will be king! And how bad would that be just to pour another drink? It’s just one thing to slow the time. You give the notebook a squeeze, try to spill a little ink? It’s just one thing to slow the time. I am the beast. The beast I handle him when starting up has to cease. You blink. The moon’s in the sky again. Still no good reason to leave. It’s like you’ve stumbled on a sphinx who’s got no riddles to speak. Except how bad would that be just to pour another drink? It’s just one thing to slow the time. You give the notebook a squeeze, try to spill a little ink. It’s just one thing to slow the time? It’d be a lie to give this bell an atavistic sound. Between my roots and wheels I don’t know which should hit the ground But in either case I am unholy and I am bound Why do I feel weightless? Tell me please why do I feel no weight? Like only spider webs are tethering me to this place. The answer is to ask a better question than “How bad would be the cage?” Don’t be scared of this scene; you might never find your home. It’s just one way to spend your life. But tell the jackals to kindly leave and you can take of your own. It’s just one way to spend your life. Time It’s just one way to spend your life.
4.
04:24
I’ve always felt that life’s a sinkhole swallowing each day I get to give. But the older I get the more it feels like the American west. Something empty and clean, new as an egg. Now filled with great mountainous things that I’ve made. Like friends I’ve let hang in the wind. I hear them rattle on each other, I wish I had an older brother to intone. Some night music that gets in my bo-bo-bo-bones To remove every trace of the places I’ve kno-kno-kno-known Some days I feel like a well-received tourist. Some days a guest that just won’t leave. One day an acre of trees. Then a little wicker wreath. If you strobe in between you see no change. But in an elemental way they’re not the same. One could argue there’s some growth in decay. But that’s a cruel way to be kind, a lever for the weak of mind to tip big stones into the vacuum of being a-lo-lo-lo-lone. To warm up the hearth of a place that’s no ho-ho-ho-home Oh what a load what heavy lifting. That light through cracks from ground that’s shifting. You find yourself beneath a bridge, the rafters above about to give. Someone whistling above you and you know the next pi-pi-pi-pitch Think you better start bracing from when you’re not some new ki-ki-ki-kid. I’ve always felt that life’s a sinkhole swallowing each day I get to give. But the older I get the more it feels like the American west. Something that’s always clean, no matter the age. Now filled with great mountainous things that I’ve yet to make.
5.
05:33
If this age is going to change me then let it change me by degree. If I become something disgusting I’ll just retrace my steps and leave. But what a cowardly thing: to know the notes but not sing. So let the tall grass creep up into my wheel-wells. And let the grey paint-speckled husk betray the way I lived while I was being born in travel. Every breath was summer air. Not a black lamb reading Vanity Fair. And when you look into the mirror and see a shivering actress. And you half forget the difference between the blond girl and the black dress. Well don’t dwell too much on that. You know the steps so just dance. And let the tall grass creep up into my wheel-wells And let the grey paint-speckled husk betray the way I lived while I was being born in travel. Every breath was summer air. Not a black lamb reading Vanity Fair. Not the town drunk screaming that my shot wasn’t fair. Not a dry eye blinking and trying hard not to stare. Not a black lamb reading Vanity Fair.
6.
03:49
Whoso list to hunt I know where is a hind. Please wake the wicked creature in this heart of mind. Whoso list to hunt you don’t get to drink from my cup. The things that touch my lips are going to shred you up. Noli me tangere motherfucker for the beast’s I am. Oh yes the beast I am. And cuz I know the weight it carries when I touch you I’m not going to just hold your hand Who me? Well the beast I am. Whoso list to hunt all I need is bass and drums to catch the Januses the Geminis wide-eyed, thunderstruck. Yes, whoso list to hunt I don’t really have the time to play the Marco Polo game of who the slack-jawed wine-drunk crowd likes. Noli me tangere motherfucker for the beast’s I am. Oh yes the beast I am. And cuz I know the weight it carries when I touch you I’m not going to just hold your hand Who me? Well the beast I am. You ain’t even gotta worry You’re just a shiny little worm Nothing you say could ever hurt me Feasting on dead things in the woods This makes me brave. You cannot hurt me, you cannot hurt me, you’ll never hurt me. Noli me tangere motherfucker for the beast’s I am. Oh yes the beast I am. And cuz I know the weight it carries when I touch you I’m not going to just hold your hand Who me? Well the beast I am. Ooooh, the beast I am.
7.
I saw you cross the restaurant. I was with some friends who come here a lot. I should have turned my chair or just up and leave. But I said you’ll have to excuse me. You showed me pictures of your kid and said he’s strong and smart as shit. The specter dwells until you blink and say you’ll have to excuse me. I see the buildings from a steely jet and feel a misguided benevolence. But down here it’s all reprieve, reprieve. I ask if you can excuse me. Ooh ooh, reprieve, reprieve.
8.
9.
03:18
There are years I can’t escape my mind. My body quits, I get the blues and fucking angry when love follows suit. And can’t see they’ve left me behind. But someday in a moment unacknowledged by the sprawl my heart will beat so hard that it can break the terra cotta shell the beast has made that keeps me lonesome and acting smart. So oh my my. I’ll meet you on the other side. And let’s suppose that someday happens pretty soon and I can quiet every soft internal sotto voce monolog that’s pulling me away from you It still would not be wise to let you in. This peace is just a borrowed book that I have read but never understood and it makes staying or leaving a sin. So oh my my, I’ll keep you on the other side.

about

Reconciling my conception of adulthood with actual adulthood. Mixed by Tucker Martine

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released March 4, 2014

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Cataldo Seattle, Washington

Cataldo has been hailed as “the rare kind of artist who’s able to absorb the chaotic world around him and distill it into crystalline song” by American Songwriter. Keepers has been welcomed as “nostalgic, and effortlessly, poetically profound,” by Nylon and “wistful and hopeful and beautiful, a brightly emotive yet understated slow-build." by Stereogum. "Literally Main Street" is due in the fall. ... more

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