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I Became Birds

by Home Is Where

/
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1.
more water than human, the glass shapes to me. history is always written in past tense but we share the same insects. the past is never ending.
2.
hey, samantha, let’s swallow all the lightbulbs in the living room & spit shine our shoes so when our necks break & our heads snap loose we can see the clouds in the tips of our boots. hey, samantha, preservative sun showers trickle down, we stick our tongues out & tip the cows. alter boys curb stomp the mall santa claus, wearing high heels, ‘cus the tv’s unplugged. oh, what a strange salvation! bong water transubstantiation. hey, samantha, let’s trespass vacant properties we claim are our bodies. there are birds on telephone lines where yr heart’s supposed to be all in even rows but no electricity flows. hey, samantha, i know we’re not holding our breath! i can’t breathe / you can’t breathe we’d see seaweed if we’d open our eyes.
3.
sheltered by stomachs digesting sunscreen, grass scabs over cracks in yr driveway. symmetrical freckles permeate your private pales. but looks at all the dogs! i wanna pet every puppy i see! standing on squares of sod not yet lawn. we are raptured & returned, sunburned. it’s a texas weed wacker massacre! a mass seppuku food fight! glass imitates gardens like a siren song to the robins.
4.
from a immeasurable array of rooftops, we’ve built a new ocean bound by splinters! how long has it been since a president got assassinated? all that collects to catalyze such drastic action i could not allow to accumulate in me. i tell myself at least. wash it down with a rifle or a uniform of gasoline; leave nothing for the flies.
5.
malleable geography, catheters overgrown. moths confuse porch lights for the moon (over & over). oh! the treachery of anatomy. celestial tadpoles scatter sawdust for the disemboweled. severed heads haloed, mouths full of railroads. “somebody is going to find what you decide to leave behind." so i never saw her again. cops are flammable if ya try. with lanterns lit in empty rooms, i became birds! the atmospheres are held by meathooks. now she lays there like a bible in a hotel drawer.
6.
sunday school in a bug spray june, i spilt the dog food again. there were campfires made from lamps in the bedroom where it all began. skinny dip skinned alive. will you teach me how to die? i have a whole lifetime to learn.

about

'you are all my best friend,
you always have been.
home is where forever'

With I Became Birds, Florida’s Home Is Where push their unique blend of whirlwind hardcore aggression and warm, open-hearted folksy melancholy to even further heights. Frontperson Brandon MacDonald’s Dylan-esque eccentricities are on full display here, from the occasional blast of harmonica (like on early standout “Long Distance Conjoined Twins” or the disaffected, despondency-soaked closer “The Old Country”) to their knack for abstractly evocative neurosis-as-poetry. But far from being a copycat act, Home Is Where’s wearily raw-throated aesthetic and dynamically vivid compositions feel idiosyncratic and vital. The bittersweet folk melodies seep deeply into the band’s DNA, adding an element of accessibility and immediate nostalgia to otherwise churning and angular song structures and sonic assaults. Vocals range from an intimate, gentle, and disarming croon to a full-bodied expectoration of the soul, oftentimes in the same song (like “Sewn Together from the Membrane of the Great Sea Cucumber,” which splits the difference between mournful, gothic post-punk and staccato-heeled screamo with aplomb). A devastating rhythm section and nimble, versatile, yet powerful guitar work assist with the record’s genre-bending, which ranges from maniacal chemical mixtures to gymnastic flips, twists, and turns. And yet, even amid the din, Home Is Where find ample time for hooks-- the oddball effervescence of lead single “Scientific Classification of Stingrays” and the shimmering, propulsive, delightfully off-kilter late-album stunner “Assisted Harakiri” are more than proof of that. Ultimately, I Became Birds shows Home Is Where hitting an early high-water mark. A brisk record-- six songs in roughly 17 minutes-- it never takes a dip in enthusiasm and inventiveness. Home Is Where’s inexhaustible creativity and restless energy is bound to serve them well, and I Became Birds is all the proof anyone needs.

credits

released March 5, 2021

all music written by home is where / all lyrics written by brandon
produced, mixed, & mastered by matt goings at killian studios
released & distributed through Knifepunch Records, Solidarity Club Records, Chirp Records, and Flowerpot Records

home is where is

josiah gardella - drums
trace george - guitar
brandon macdonald - tantrum, harmonica, singing saw
connor "fat slaps" o'brien - bass

home is where is also sometimes

matt goings - synth, tambourine
wes meadows - horns
christiana patterson - violin
the puppy petter choir - backing vox
ellie kovach - liner notes

the puppy petter choir on track 3 consists of haley craycraft, christiana patterson, emily james, matt goings, & home is where

this album is dedicated to anyone & everyone who has struggled / is struggling with their gender identity

in loving memory of our buddy gavin stanley
1998-2021
gavin forever

FPR-170

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Flowerpot Records Ohio

A record label based out of Berea, Ohio, putting out CDs and tapes from artists around the country.

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