FOREVERWOLF

by Careers In Science

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    Glorious 12" vinyl package printed on red / streaks of black translucent vinyl. Ships within five days. Always available at shows. Hand numbered edition of 500.

    (While supplies last album also ships with 5-song bonus EP of alternate versions of Patchwork Children, Suri Cruise Missile, and Boss Fight. Plus a cover that you... really have to hear.)

    Includes immediate download of 12-track album in the high-quality format of your choice (MP3, FLAC, and more), plus unlimited mobile access using the free Bandcamp listening app.
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    edition of 500 

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  • Hot, clear, translucent red-and-smokey vinyl FOREVERWOLF 12" record (HAND NUMBERED EDITION OF 500) and "MEH" WhateverWolf Shirt because, like us, you are really into wolves for some reason.

    Includes immediate download of FOREVERWOLF in your choice of format, and for a limited time comes with 5-song bonus EP "Caffeine-Free Diet Careers In Science," featuring three alternate versions of album tracks and two covers.

    Includes immediate download of 12-track album in the high-quality format of your choice (MP3, FLAC, and more), plus unlimited mobile access using the free Bandcamp listening app.
    ships out within 5 days

     $15 CAD

     

  • Hot, clear, translucent FOREVERWOLF 12" record (HAND NUMBERED EDITION OF 500) and "Fold Arms Here" shirt to remind you how to hold your upper body when, upon first listen of the record, you realize that it just isn't punk enough.

    Includes immediate download of FOREVERWOLF in your choice of format, and for a limited time comes with 5-song bonus EP "Caffeine-Free Diet Careers In Science," featuring three alternate versions of album tracks and two covers.

    Includes immediate download of 12-track album in the high-quality format of your choice (MP3, FLAC, and more), plus unlimited mobile access using the free Bandcamp listening app.
    ships out within 5 days

     $15 CAD

     

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02:41
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credits

released 01 July 2012
All songs written by C. McPhee / D. Proctor / E. Bourque / M. Winkler.
Tracks 1, 3, 5, 9, 10, 12 also written by W. Prosper
Recorded and mixed by Eric Bourque. Twice.
Mastered by Shawn Jurek Mastering.
All songs Copyright 2012 Careers In Science.

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Careers In Science Toronto, Ontario

Nerdy post-punk and hardcore influenced punk rock by way of Black Flag and Devo; fast, guitar-driven songs about giant monsters, suburban paranoia, and that moment when you realize you're no longer a kid. Throw in a healthy dose of satire and video game references and you've got Careers In Science. ... more

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Track Name: Hardcore Nice Guy
Can I dress you for school?
Here's a t-shirt from my band.
Remember this rule: we never shook hands.

This tough guy act is a mic wire wrapped around my fingers tight, and if I play this one card right there'll be more me by tomorrow night, let's go.

Can I find you a chair?
Oh, it's S.R.O.?
Well then stand over there, we'll get ice cream after the show.

This tough guy act is a mic wire wrapped around my fingers tight, and if I play this one card right there'll be more me by tomorrow night, let's go.

I'd have a party if I had any friends;
I'm afraid of drugs and women.
I'd have a party if I had any friends;
I'm afraid of easy livin'.
I'd have a party if I had any friends;
I'm afraid of suits and ties.
I'd have a party if I had any friends;
I'm afraid of hugging guys.

Can I punch you in the face?
Get you kicked out of the show?
There's a kid at the back of the room I really want to get to know.

This tough guy act is a garrote wire around my thick neck tight and if they do not cut it off, there'll be no one here left to say "let's go."
Track Name: Damaged Men
I surround myself with damaged men
that gorge themselves on younger women,
call them out by age, not name, and then they start
around the circle to see who's eaten the youngest heart.

"Damaged men, we're damaged men"
They control the world you live in.

So lock your sisters, lock your daughters.
They've got houses on the water,
lots of money, and plenty of regret.
Have you wept because you'll never be seventeen again?
Not yet? We'll you're next.

You are all next.

He's 40+,
he needs younger blood.
She's 20--just.
Just not young enough.

"Damaged men, we're damaged men"
They control the world you live in.
"Damaged men, we're damaged men"
Fathers of a generation.
Track Name: Elizabeth Brown
Elizabeth Brown,

We regret to inform you that your two legs now belong to the city records office. We intend to explore how someone like you was left walking around for so long without getting taken down. Please wait on your top floor, we'll be there in the fall for what's ours, so you can enjoy your view.

And further Miss Brown, now that you're chair-bound, please take the time to enjoy what this city has to offer. There's a wealth of near-sighted pricks who live on gossip, and misery, and low-down dirty tricks. They'll watch you crawl around your heritage home top-floor in the summer and they'll wonder why you never come over when they call, and they always call.

No one here will bring flowers to your door. Civil servants, not what they're paid for. Every woman / man for herself / himself here, after all. So say you all.

You just wanted to save your community from these modern monstrosities. We appreciate your generosity, it's respected. But now that your legs are in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet on the second floor, promise to not make any changes to your home: it's protected.

I hope this was helpful, and if you need anything you'll always have this letter. And may its words be scratched on the walls of your top floor so you can remember what you did to your neighbour, the thoughts you never gave her, the help you never offered.

Sincerely,
The Records Office

ps. And on a personal note, I am disgusted.
Track Name: Pity the Artist
These hacks can't learn my songs.
They never, EVER sing along.
I'm so, so, so alone on stage with the microphone.
Once we collect the door, I'll pack my things and go.
This isn't a game, you know.
I'm taking my ball and I'm going home.

Built these walls out of styrofoam
I can hang my paintings on.
I'm so, so cynical. No one's gonna come to my show.
Shout my pain through a megaphone
standing on my neighbour's lawn, as part of my series on
the suffering I own.

All my photographs developed in blood
where I'm hanging up like Jesus Christ,
tell me darling what's your favourite one?
You should pay for it, it's fairly priced, it was the hardest,
pity the artist.

And if no one shows tonight, I'll stay at home and write
a deposition of the suffering I love.
And if everyone buys it all, I'll curl into a ball
to drown these praising drones in the hope that someone will take me home.

All my photographs developed in blood
where I'm hanging up like Jesus Christ,
tell me darling what's your favourite one?
You should pay for it, it's fairly priced, it was the hardest,
pity the artist.

These hacks can't learn my songs.
They never, EVER sing along.
I'm so, so, so alone
on stage with the microphone.
Track Name: ROCKETS!
Every fall the leaves start to defect.
I hope the kids get home before the streetlights find them,
and on Hallowe'en we play a little game.
We hide in cardboard boxes from the passing helicopters.

The neighbourhood kids are gathered on lawns,
I've heard them whispering with all their curtains drawn.
I've locked the door, as they assemble
I surmise that the powerlines won't block us
from the helicopters.

A neighbourhood of separate beds, we sleep alone.
Draped in our own worry, we sleep alone.

People making phone calls from their bay window blinds,
the rockets have been signaled
and the mailman steps in time.

A neighbourhood of separate beds, we sleep alone.
Draped in our own worry, we sleep alone.
Track Name: You Should Make Mistakes
We are people you should know
because we always know what's best,
and better men than you have died
trying to figure out what's next,
so we put the guesswork to rest.

Play with bands everybody knows,
dear god there are rules you know.
First the 7, then the 12 follows,
dear god there are rules you know.
Maybe tour, homecoming show,
then it's quick back on the road,
then give up (can't pay back the loans),
start a blog, turn up your nose.

You can fumble in the dark
but you'll only waste your time.
Look at how we got this far and stand in line.
Wipe that smile off your face, don't you know that
you're in the wrong place?

Got these earplugs in, feet pressed to the floor,
dusty vinyl couch and the old 64,
shouting one-line jokes, noise ceiling to floor,
four grown men giving up on being adored.

YOU SHOULD MAKE MISTAKES.

Singing songs with your friends alone,
pressing records that you'd want to own.
Singing songs with your friends alone,
what secrets could your basement hold?

Singing songs with your friends alone,
how'd you do it all on your own?
Singing songs with your friends alone,
what secrets could your basement hold?
Track Name: Suri Cruise-Missile
Little girl, I was just like you.
I was raised as a weapon too.
Your little hands can't block the lights and sounds, your own room is a battleground.
Tread water through expectations.
Never step beneath your station.
Your little heart won't know how much to take, your own room is no escape.

It's getting hotter and hotter in there with all of the toys.
I find it harder and harder to walk away from the noise.

Old man, I feel just like you.
Crushed beneath my things-to-do.
Built from birth, told I'd be grand, made into "model man."
So tired, I beg for water. If I could find a picture of a famous daughter crying because the world upset her I know the money'd make my life better.

I find it harder and harder to walk away from the noise.

It's getting dangerous thinking the world is
mine to destroy.
I find it harder and harder to walk away from the noise.

I've been hollerin' here since I was a boy,
they've been watching me,
judging me on my every choice,
it's getting easier thinking the world is mine to destroy,
I find it harder and harder to walk away from the noise.
Track Name: Holy Shit! Giant Spiders!
Holy shit! Giant spiders! What are we going to do now?

When we were younger we had plans for the apocalypse--we knew which exits to take, we knew which exits to seal. Now that it's happening I don't think I'm prepared for this, I can't decide what's at stake and which of my weapons are real.

Sit on my bedspread and I contemplate the terror of making a run for it and ending up a bloody smear. When we were planning all our plans were hypothetical. We were ready for the worst--the worst was never coming here. The worst was NOT coming here.

Holy shit! Giant spiders! What are we going to do now?
Track Name: Konami Code of Conduct
I ripped off my first head when I was nine. My fingers ran red with cherry kool-aid dye.
But I always ate my veggies,
I never failed a test,
I never tried to rip a real man's heart from his chest.

Built a kingdom from an easy chair,
they still say I was a peaceful ruler there.
Saved the world with a loaded gun and all I've found is they still say I was a good man to have around.

Collected my first head when I was 14--but I asked permission--in the basement in front of the TV.
I always walked the girls to the door,
I never stole a kiss,
and I left their pretty girl hearts down in their chests.

Built a kingdom from an easy chair,
they still say I was a peaceful ruler there.
Saved the world with a loaded gun and all I've found is they still say I was a good man to have around.

I never had a plan,
I never build up walls,
I never went for high scores in the high school halls.

Built a kingdom from an easy chair,
they still say I was a peaceful ruler there.
Saved the world with a loaded gun and all I've found is they still say I was a good man; trusted.
A young man; well-adjusted.
A smart man, so much more than
a good man to have around.
Track Name: The Luxury of Forgetting
Thirteen years old, my dad put a rifle to her head. He said I had a choice to make, the wrong one made her dead.

The day I lost her, the day I lost you.

The rifle clicked and I charged with a shout. My punch fell weak and the lights went out.

The day I lost her, the day that I lost you.

When I awoke, my face a mess, blood on the wall, dripping and fresh.

The day I chose, the day I lost, the day I found a choice could cost. I wish I had a chance to say goodbye.
Track Name: Boss Fight
I platform through 25,
a world I'm not equipped yet to survive.
-1 Suits and Cartoon Ties.
But I float right through my days,
ignoring the warning signs
that somethings coming on the right.

Who will blow life back into my choices?
Reset all my bad decisions?
Give me one of those second chances that I was promised,
but I rejected?

Back into 25 and I'm scared for my life,
but a head-down approach will keep all, or most
of the targets satisfied,
and another day is squandered on cheat codes for modern life.
Something's coming on the right.

Who will blow life back into my choices?
Reset all my bad decisions?
Give me one of those second chances that I was promised, but I rejected?

And a too-tight cartoon tie is the lie around your neck
when you think that you're still 16,
like the kid across the desk.
And I can see it in his eyes, he's in a boss fight,
he's on fire,
and you've got no excuse boy, you're the boss now,
you're the liar.
I can see it coming faster yet,
an end to all the degradation from the choices you regret.
I can see it coming on the right,
the day you wake up, put your tie on, start the game and scream out:

"I will blow life back into my into my choices,
reset all my bad decisions,
use up all of those second chances that I was promised and I never lost.
I never lost."
Track Name: Patchwork Children
You would deny
the beating hearts of these put-together boys,
but they worked so hard
to not have to work in the lumber yard.

There's a generation of patchwork children
that taught us a little about building
fountains from dirty water and our own sons and daughters.

You would unfurl
the ligaments of these put-together girls,
who never offered their kids finished worlds
but taught them how to build their own from nothing.

There's a generation of patchwork children
that taught us a little about building
fountains from dirty water and our own sons and daughters.

Sorry we were never around on the weekend,
you would worship the dead with all your friends,
getting high to your old man's record collection, saying
"Music was never this good again."
But we've got that patchwork sense of self,
you won't find us on your father's shelf.
We've got that patchwork state of mind,
if you can't find us now, one day you'll find.

You can find our heads upon your shelf,
you can find our hands upon your shelf,
you can find our hearts upon your shelf.