MK Ultra: Words





		Red on White on Blue Fortune Cookies Heavy Weather I Miss the War All We Have Goodbye, Max! What I Live For Double Flame Sunday Coffee Girl Red Cross Coming Down Darkness and the Silver Spoon You Are Charmed MK ULTRA Produced by MK Ultra and Greg Williamson Engineered by Damien Rasmussen, Greg Freeman, and MK Ultra Mixed by Greg Williamson Recorded at Tiny Telephone, SF Music by MK Ultra Words by John Vanderslice Words edited by Amanda Yskamp Dan Carr Bass Moog Vocals Matt Torrey Drums Keyboards Vocals John Tyner Guitar Piano John Vanderslice Vocals Guitar Samples Adam Cohen Chamberlin Mellotron Michael Holt Electric Piano Anita Perkins Viola Erika Jacobs Cello John Cragen Dialogue Tiny Telephone thanks: Greg Williamson, Damien Rasmussen, Greg Freeman, Lawrence Mannion, Michael Gore, Spencer Jackson, Mommyheads, Rick Stone, John Croslin, Stephen Jarvis, and all the bands who have recorded here. Ingredients: Ampex MM 1000 2" 16trk/Quantum Audio Labs QA 2000/Neumann M582/Urie 1178/Neve 1064/Ampex 440/Tube Tech LCA 2B/Sennheiser 409/Ibanez AD202 Analog Delay/Coles 4038/API 550A/Williamson FineTone Custom/Beyer M88/Gibson Les Paul Jr 1959/dbx 160/Rhodes 88/Neve 1272/EV RE20/Ampeg V4B/Klon Centaur Distortion/Urie LA4/Ampex MX10/Sony 37A/Roland D50/dbx 463X/AKG 414/Tube Driver/Empirical Labs Distressor/Echoplex/Baldwin Piano/MXR Flanger Doubler/Ensoniq EPS16/AKG BX10 Spring Reverb/Amek 9098/Fostex Tone Generator/Shure SM 57/Roland 301 Space Echo/Supro Lap Steel/Boss DM 2 Delay/Real Tube Reverb/Gibson ES 125 1959/Baldwin Upright 1973/Drawmer 1960/Sennheiser 421/Delta Lab Effectron/Ibanez 707 PhaseTone/Fender Pro Reverb 1966/Beyer MKII/Altec 1527A/Ampex 456/Moog Source/Roland GR500 Guitar Synthesizer/Ampeg VT40 1978/Gibson "the Ripper"/Lexicon Reflex/Valley People Dyna-Mite/Sans Amp Classic/Slingerland 1960/Dynaudio BM15/Roland R8/Dredge-Tone/Gibson LGO 1968/BASF 900/Sonar Xylophone Red on White on Blue The crazy sons of the pioneers have everything to fear, armed to the teeth in backcountry heat, bunkered down in Idaho. The lazy sons of the pioneers have nothing to fear. Cheerleaders and varsity songs, waxed up, jacked up motor cars- they tell you that's American. The crazy sons of the pioneers see beyond the next war. Rations, rifles, lonely brigades, insanely defending a homemade state- I tell you that's American! Fortune Cookies If you try to make it alone, expect some broken bones. Do not focus your hate on anything that doesn't need to break. Only a few will survive: the crazy, frightened, paranoid. Wonder, wonder, what you're for? Answer: transfer genetic code. If anyone shows you love, sit down with them over a cup of green or black tea- ask them 'bout their family, 'cause in the end I doubt if anything will matter as much as this. If you want to take the king, you might have to trade your queen. Failure, shame, catastrophe, are better for you than lucky breaks. If you try to make it alone, expect some broken bones. If anyone shows you respect, sit down with them over a couple cups of coffee- ask 'em what they want to be, 'cause in the end I doubt if anything will matter as much as this. Heavy Weather Yarn-dyed, falls over hips. Charcoal heather sweater. Moss skirt, wide wale evolves. Fluid twill, tencel blend shines. A-Line skirt: weekend innocence. Sandwashed, tropic tone for backpike, butterfly or walking alone under pale sky, heavy weather. Superfine, double stitch lines. Slouchy shirt: weekend innocence. Yeah, machine washable. Late suede meets rubber sole. Slate straw gets abbreviated in thigh highs, cunningly. Fluid twill, tencel blend shines. A-Line skirt: weekend innocence. Yeah, machine washable. Color for those who love the out of doors under darkening sun, walking under heavy weather the texture of washed oatmeal heather. I Miss the War I wish the war was on, I know this sounds strange to you. I miss the war-time life, anything could happen then: around a corner, behind a door. I miss the canon fire, I miss the air strikes at night. Down on the basement floor, we held each other tight, it rained plaster, it rained glass, we held on for our life. I wish the war was on, I know this sounds strange to you. My poor crippled con, my sad one-legged Jew, I see what it's done to you. I wish the war was on, we really worked together then. Do you remember when you held the horse, I slit his throat, the blood ran, melting the snow? When the meat was carved the children screamed and the women cheered. All We Have I've jerked off, I've jerked off several times today. I'm sore and I'm bored, but it's the only way to make it through another day, to kill the craving I have for her. I couldn't believe she couldn't see I'm the mack motherfucking g. I got down on myself, then it hit me, it really hit me: all we have is ourselves. I'm sure you know this, (do you really know this?). All we have is ourselves, once you see that it's not so bad. You'll stop waiting for someone else, you'll stop waiting for outside help. To keep from losing your mind, you have to know this, really know this. So stay at home, work it out, jerk it off, scream and shout. You'll be sore, you'll be bored, but it's the only way to make it through, to kill the craving, the craving... Goodbye, Max! The scraping is complete and we're out on the street. Killers on the loose and we're holding hands– it's still protected by the law. Thank our lucky stars there weren't any kooks with placards in hand. Girlfriend, come near, we're having a bad year. The saddest thing: I thought this would bring us closer. Do we deny it to the end, to ourselves and to our friends? Do we file it away: dead babies, mortal sins? Or could it get us off 'cause we act like little gods? Girlfriend, come near, I'm having a bad year. The saddest thing: I thought this would bring us closer. Killers on the loose and we're holding hands– it's still protected by the law. Thank our lucky stars there weren't any kooks with placards in hand of fetuses in tubes our baby red and blue, black and blue. What I Live For Last night my dad flew in from Maine on American Airlines. He looks the same– but I heard a worry–a worry in his voice. "Every time I come here, you gotta new lame job, a strung-out girlfriend Where is your hope, what is your dream–I want to understand." I said: "This is what I live for, this is what I live for, I know you can't see anything yet but I'm trying to find the core of what I live for." "Come back soon– your family is dying to see you. I want to help but I'm beginning to hate you. If I'd behaved this way my dad woulda cracked me in two. "I feel you slipping away, I feel you slipping away, I know the talk, I know the smells, the druggy walk, the druggy hell. You're slipping away." "Dad I'll be fine, I'm trying hard, trying hard to find a way to live, a way to love–I know I'm a little bit fucked up. "This is what I live for, this is what I live for, I know you can't see anything yet but I'm trying to find the core of what I live for." Double Flame No matter how far you fall, there's always a pull to be strong– leftover animal resolve. No matter how far you fall, there's always the urge to go all the way down. Today on a ghetto street I heard birds and people meet in sound. It was beautiful, it was terrible. I feel a rupture in my brain, am I finally going insane? Did the transformation begin? Am I growing a brand new skin? I hope so. I need it. I am so raw. No matter how far you fall, there's always a hand to yank you back– accept the hand but understand it's a complicated pact. Sunday O Sunday! Screw you and your yawning parks, up yours and your quiet walks. O Sunday! Fuck you and your lack of structure, it's enough to put a freak like me under. The more hopeful and healthy the weather, the sadder, the sadder I get. She said: It's enough, it's enough to be alive. I replied: I could make it just fine if I didn't feel so... Please understand! Being down don't give me no pleasure, I'd rather be rollerblading or Chinese New Year parading, anything but debating what she said: there are many new pharmaceuticals for people like me. O Sunday! You're like a girl I could never get, you mock me in joy and gladness. Coffee Girl Coffee girl, I want to be inside your world, coffee girl. I want you so badly, I spill all over my shirt, I've been seen in town, stained brown with your caffeine... My anti-depressant, hope-giving holy mud, if I only, if I only drink enough I can see clear, clear my escape. I can see into another state. Coffee girl, I want to be inside your world, coffee girl. Red Cross Thanks for coming out on my birthday, but please listen up, I've got something to say. I've joined the Red Cross, I'm gonna get lost in some bloody war in Africa, I leave this month on the 23rd. I'm leaving behind everything fine, unreal, contrived, so I can find out what's really mine. I've joined the Red Cross, I'm gonna get lost in some bloody war in Africa, where machetes gangs roam the streets, I leave next week on the 23rd. Coming Down Tremor, flicker, quiver, shudder, shiver, flutter, miss a beat, catch up, miss a beat. I'm finally coming down. What makes me put that stuff in my mouth? If I could only throw up, or sweat it out of my sweaty hands. For hours and hours I tried to squeeze out every microgram. Tremor, flicker, quiver, shudder, shiver, flutter, miss a beat, catch up, miss a beat. Who do you call up when you're out of you're mind. I call my mother, but she wasn't home this time. Darkness and the Silver Spoon I saw you walking on Country Club Drive with your strange, sullen child. Do you remember me? I watched you play on the tennis courts, the thin-lipped men signed up on the board, and you sent the ball over with distracted force. I'm pale, I've been in jail, I'm a voyeur. Do you remember me? When your child flipped his go-kart. I cried so hard, I could barely give him CPR. You pulled me away, he got up and wiped his lips. He smiled, you asked me if I knew how to fix it. You Are Charmed You are charmed, it's in the cards. You are free to do anything. I know they told you you weren't fit to shine the shoes of a son of a slave much less the leather boots of a middle-manager. Listen to me! Listen to me! You are charmed, it's in the leaves. You are free to do anything. I know they told you you weren't fit to join the parade that braves the Rio Grande, that dodges cars on the 281 only to end up walking broken and barefoot out on the Texas plains. Listen to me! Listen to me! You are charmed, it's in the stars. You are free to be anything. Look outside, up in the sky, the birds fly synchronized to tell you it's time, you'll not be denied. Listen to me!