"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.
Wait wait wait – tell me who's on base?
Anyway, I'm a genius at games and I'm seeing your face
on the news, on the case.
What do you stand to gain?
What's your take –
a foolish debate between two middle-aged corn flakes?
One's born every day, in the states –
I don't have data on the global rate –
but I hate your attitude.
Your platitudes make me constantly mad at you,
but maybe I'm crazy!
Down Periscope is nothing like the Navy.
Oh, I wasted whole days slavin' over radio.
Oh-oh, that's not slavery, no, no, no.
It's just a shame that we
both owe boatloads.
The feds are forcing us to sing like we're at Cold Stone
plus my course-load at the Sorbonne
is making me disproportionately mean and horrible.
C'est vrais! But hey, whatcha gonna do, today,
To negate the lunacy of all the hate you spew at me?
Maybe fake jewelry? Blasé tomfoolery?
Andre 3000, Bee Thousand or John Fogerty?
There's no way to deceive such a sweet human being,
or perceive what you see, or achieve what you dream.
See, me? I'm like a likeable belief.
I like to liken it to lichen: it's a weed
and it grows outside of me.
Primally, violence tries to define me –
fine with me. But I might keep on leaning on
the demonspawns who grind my teeth.
A sign of peace; a white
Egyptian cotton sheet on a wire.
The choir says “Never expire, retire.
You're stuck in the muck and the mire of desire.
Take snuff to stay tough in the widening gyre.
Liars for hire: die in a fire.”
Please God don't give Janis Joplin a Mercedes;
I'd feel a lot safer for the denizens of Hades.
Oh, ho ho. Such a pedestrian joke!
Well, no –
the system's broke
when a bold bro can get cornrows
and sling porno puns at awards shows.
Meanwhile, character actors and old pros
dissipate into the ether as foretold.
So you should hoard gold,
dig up a hole in the forest and store it
before it gets stolen by poor folks.
And give me your phone –
there's an app for that hat-in-hand rigamarole.
And of course you know
the porousness of certain borders
you grope like a horuspex
hoping to hone in on something
so horrible no one should know,
even if it's just a corny old joke.