"The Comedy Album" is the 13th and most epic Kleenex Girl Wonder record.
26 songs, covering a variety of genres, styles, and production methods, written and recorded over the course of two years, and now available on two slabs of strikingly coloured vinyl (some 'Comedy Blue,' some 'Bazooka Joke Pink').
Featuring guest production from Max Tundra, Saskrotch, and The Hood Internet, plus the usual suspects of Graham Smith, Matt LeMay and Thayer McClanahan.
Includes unlimited streaming of The Comedy Album
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
Nighty Night: the Musical!
You be Cath, I'll be Jill Tyrell.
We'll film it all in a studio.
It'll be cool, no, you should be Terry and Glen Bulb too.
Remember where we used to go?
I can't. Shows we watched, news we broke –
just the scraps, subsumed, improved or removed.
Every little thing means nothing to me or you.
But do you wanna be a high school sweetheart
all your life?
With all its isolating connotations grating on your patience?
It's not right; you've waited all night
for a nice combination of observation and insight
with a list of likes and dislikes.
But all this augury gives me agita.
Sing us a song, silly, not a sonata.
We eat, we breathe, we sleep, we dream...
but we can't see the forest for leaves without trees.
Here I am, get used to it.
I'll let you think it through a bit.
Matter of fact, and I am gonna let you finish,
but you're clueless, foolish and useless
And I am the coolest dude in the universe,
yet you'd have me prove it,
pretending that you don't hurt me
like you always do.
And it's true, at first,
but soon it gets worse –
mark your calendars!
These feelings will seem so obsolete
when you're pleading on your knees for an hour's reprieve.
So if you believe in the healing power of dishonesty,
breach the membrane. You need to escape.
Leave all the grieving to me.
And we’ll keep our secrets under lock and key
'til we unleash our unclean needs and blunders sloppily.
There's got to be some democracy in this oddball odyssey.
You've seen the brief and the summary,
now, read the press release!
How do you intend to always know what's best for me?
How come you can't ever show that you're impressed with me?
How do you expect me to hold out hope independently?
How can we ever be free if we can't be alone indefinitely?
And definitely, the words flow effortlessly
when the specter of death feeds you lines from offscreen.
Now see, the difference between you and me is
you're lost when the world comes apart at the seams,
and it's seams that make us suit up each day –
to boot up our mainframes,
review our mistakes
and make use of the phrases
we're given to say:
“Among our milieu,”
“amidst a melee.”
And it's true what they claim:
you don't learn, you can't change.
It's no worse than old age,
don't get carried away.
With the wind at your back
and the sun in your face
you'll do great. You just wait.