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Chopper

by Kiwi jr

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1.
unspeakable things written longhand in your diary unspeakable things in bags piled into a phone booth pressed against glass shouted aloud alone in gear at a red light unspeakable things stored at a high rate of interest everything that you've done laid out here one by one caught on tape and compiled no one could ever ever try and forgive unspeakable things gathered and sold at auction unspeakable things go on overlooked in the kitchen out the back window, through to the laneway drawn in chalk then washed away remember that day turns to night and cries for blood at the Cinesphere what you'd say if we could see every day every key if we got in by brute force you never ever could go home again you're never going home again “oh what a night,” sings the heir “how’s your heart still beating?” “oh what a night,” sings the heir “how’s your heart still beating out time?”
2.
Parasite II 02:37
there's gotta be another man in the house who's spending all the money someone down in the laundry room keeps shrinking all my shirts but they won't show plant a seed, watch someone else watch it grow I don't really have time for a movie or really the money there's gotta be another man in the house who's drinking all my beer if they won't show pull a tooth, put it under someone else's pillow there's an ancient crisis of faith that’s building in the bedroom a retelling of Arthurian Legend in the bathroom mirror I betcha can't tell between venomous and poisonous mowing grass of the World Cup pitches 2022 it’s gotta be just right, it’s gonna be a big year for me make a sound to hear someone else make a sound make a sound to hear someone make a sound too if it's good for you and it's good for me it's good for the family
3.
I'm only painting with green I'm mixing blue and yellow together it felt so good to be home but leaving feels even better they’re building this powerful magnet to disrupt the rhythm of my heart I run and I hide but it's like trying to get out of someone else's car in the dark I need clerical sleep ya clerical sleep painted Victorian teardrop can’t handle the truth oh clerical sleep talking about clerical sleep let the attack dogs of the old world howl, "Goodnight Moon" I want to reveal my truths spill my guts then leave town forever and if I can get close enough I'll detonate for peace time atomics hey Skinny, how’s the Oldsmobile? hey Skinny, how’s the open road? if we can get as far as Rivière-du-Loup then we'll really see what these old ponies can do on some clerical sleep clerical sleep a note left on your windshield promises have been kept we all need clerical sleep oh oh clerical sleep painted Victorian tear drop and Jesus wept I know a man with the most advanced robot prosthetic in the history of the world built in a lab, it cost $2,000,000, but he hates it, can’t stand it, never wears it, it just sits there
4.
I'm waiting on a Dodge Caravan and I don't wanna take it too far but it's outta my hands then there’s light bleeding in the ditch your band hears a brand new Outkast song for the very first time making all the stops, hit the storage locker, there’s a dead deer lit up in the sensor light behind the Petro-Can but late to the party, that’s good for the party I can do anything for you but I'm gonna have to do it running it might take another year it might take a shotgunned beer it might take a rifled deer head shot, night vision, sex tape, head shot turn it out I don't wanna take it too far losing it over you it's overdue and I don’t choose losing it over you it might take another year it might take a shotgunned beer it might take a rifled deer head shot, night vision, sex tape, head shot turn it out
5.
there's a soft opening, she'll be there if you wanna stop by flirting with the human scorpion jacket from Drive he's a haircut aiming a jar of gin and he talks about Los Angeles, that's a cue for you to jump in “excuse me I couldn't help overhear you mention LA see I was there for Kobe Bryant's last NBA game it was five or six years ago back when there were no guarantees and it was on the tv at a bar somewhere in I think Los Feliz” making friends making plans to pull someone out of a crowd out of a crowd yeah out of the crowd and into his spotlight the extra sees the film and totally collapses the extra sees the film with Bette Davis Eyes as if I had a way to move us all forward if I had a way to put us all back on pace we could make out headlights in the ditch off the road crying blue light and buried under falling snow we were on our way from Fredericton to Charlottetown for the show now we're stomping and kicking in three or four feet of snow dancing to discover a body in our boots Stetson hats and rhinestone Nudie suits ya we might have to cut a few half-finished new songs there's only twenty five more minutes until we go on it’s probably fine they’re probably fine they were picked up and taken back home taken home calling friends, “hey I'm gonna be on TV” the extra sees the film and covers up his name badge the extra sees the film and has to call his mom as if I had a way to move us all forward if I had a way to put everything back on pace
6.
the roads were closed opening day by thoroughbred RCMP I walked alone Joe Shuster Way Superman probably made more money than me all the older highways got their names from God workflows traced to hired contract killers on call no card I play and nothing I say would ever change minds I'm starting to think they don't do it for the money now is the time for all good men (guest speaker, why’d you let the runners go?) to come to the aid of the party (one motion to kick in and kick out of gear) by the time the wicker had been wove (guest speaker, why'd you let the rhythm go?) all the liquor was gone and we drove home all the older highways got their names from God wiretaps of hired contract killers at large no turn I take and no call I make would ever change minds I gotta think they don’t do it for the money oh wandering headlight take to a lonesome road oh great wandering headlight take to a lonesome road and ya I admit it does sound a bit funny the obituary arranged for guitar but nobody ever says no to the money
7.
you took one too many Ativan and raced out into the street danced in line with the EMTs who stared at your bare feet I'll never recover from the shape of your little fist swinging at the coat check singing, I Have Confidence in the rain I was on your last paragraph when they asked, “guess who's been killed?” then I heard those European police sirens from all those action films I'll never recover from doing what was right you said, “If you die in your sleep you're all alone in the middle of the night” so long, farewell, Julie Andrews we lose quarters in candy machines when they pulled you out of the harbour you were holding onto a book then you shoved your screenplay into my chest and said, “won’t you at least take a look?” I'll never recover from the colour of your tears when you came home from spring break after thirteen years so long, farewell, Tony Walton we lose fingers in pairing machines ah so long, farewell Julie Andrews we lose lines in deleted scenes ! ! !
8.
trapped in a downtown area storage facility overnight Christ on the cross sees the sunrise for a second time if I can make it through the night I won’t let go of the light till I see something familiar there's a downtown area Ford dealership with a picture on the wall of my wife and I onstage with the mayor at the Policeman's Ball and when they saw I was no cop I started running and said I'd stop I’d stop yeah I’d stop when I saw something familiar I'm with a downtown area personal injury lawyer on a conference call or working a debt till 4 or 5 at Rol San I gotta ride this out and I will I wait over and over again and I will we're a downtown area band we got downtown area fans we're a downtown area band get us out of here get me out of here trapped in a downtown area storage facility overnight Christ on the cross sees the sunrise for a third time we're a downtown area band ya we’re a downtown area band we got some downtown area fans get us out of here
9.
looking for your Kennedy curse and getting nowhere flashing your badge, footing the bill on a quest for the grail in time waiting in line looks better on tv it’s your turn get to ripped off so get inspired, ya get inspired when they tell you that they're going through just what you're going through just to see how much you can take it's the same old salty fish in the ocean trying to get a message through to see how soon you will break break down deadlifting a Fender guitar and getting nowhere showing your ass trying to dance to a cycle of failure high-five the overachievers who tried harder it’s your move to let the telepathics reach inside, way down inside they’ll tell you that they're going through just what you're going through to see how much you can take still the same old moldy bread on the counter waiting for a number to fall and to see how soon you will break break down they’re pulling up on your Aperol ah baby come on waiting for your brother to call come on, come on we all stare at the clock inside the Judy Garland Museum In Grand Rapids, Minnesota click click clicking our heels waiting for a breakdown another breakdown
10.
So You Thought You Could Dance out on the bill peering through keyholes, looking to kill trying to see The Masked Singer and you're not the first flower to trust the iridescent birch bark into the dusk like some new Last Duchess of the forest floor faceless, more or less following footprints new name feels the same fake it till you fail shovels in trenches digging up just rain always underestimate the panic in the writers room always has to be some new kid undercutting protocol tell me it's not my problem, that's just fine you can take your time cuz I’m taking mine ya I'm taking mine so many men died in the parade now the ships sail down The Esplanade they used to find sashes and brass washed up on the shore you've got ideas to ricochet the runway a cascade of comebacks and business ain’t booming moving house in the same direction can't protect your favourite sponsor's wing from museum fatigue can't shake the manger hay off knocking on open doors buddy, it's not my problem and that's fine you can change your mind cuz I’m changing mine ya I'm changing mine the rumours were true everything hurt like hell the rumours were true now I am a changed devil and I could have danced all night I could have spread my wings I could have danced all night and done a thousand things but without begging

about

Smash cut to Kiwi Jr.’s third album, Chopper, overseen by trusted pilot Dan Boeckner (Wolf Parade, Handsome Furs) on storied Sub Pop Records. Turning nocturnal with necks mock turtle, our Local Kiwi Jr. takes neon flight off the digital cliff - like The Monkees starring in Blade Runner; like Michael Mann directs Encino Man. Ten songs with synth shimmer, zen gongs with yard strimmer. The signs along the highway read “LESS BAR, MORE NOIR AHEAD.” Ah, those late summer, Joe Strummer, Home on the Range Rover Blues.

There's a melancholy to all forms of flight, and the view out the Chopper is as hazy as it gets: mission-oriented, both stealth and self-realized. This album is decidedly (yet almost secretly) anti-patio-sunscreen-Beach Boys bachelor cruise sing-a-long. Sure, these songs let a little light through the blinds, but they sting insomnia, corrupt mayors, Kennedy Curses, sex tapes, and deer rifles. Chopper is the bird's eye view of the big event - a real nighttime character of oil stain, film grain, search light, night flight. It is muscular and fragile; loud yet quiet: both an observer and somehow the observed spectacle itself.

What was slack in the slacker phase, got tauter, with lacquer glaze. Slick gloss, rightened wrongs; murdered boss, promoted pawns. With Boeckner transmitting high-voltage shocks upon every reach for a familiar instrument, Kiwi Jr. expands the palette with string machine song, synthesizered oblong, and Dentyne Classic Menthol vocals from area soprano Dorothea Paas (US Girls, Badge Epoch Ensemble) like the missing piece all along.

Kiwi Jr. brings the Chopper to a new space, demilitarizing the technology just like flasks, aviators, and cargo shorts. Graceful in the air above, but when the Chopper lands, there's chaos on the ground. Kiwi Jr. shout, “Look Out!” When it gets close, it'll blow the hat right off of your head.

Hold onto your hats, Babies.

—---

KIWI JR. is Jeremy Gaudet vocals and guitar, Brian Murphy guitar, Mike Walker bass, Brohan Moore drums, and everybody played a little bit of keyboard.

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released August 12, 2022

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