The Grand Stretch EP

by Shrug Life

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C. Dingus This is music with a blueprint. Editing/Mixing that doesn't detour but enhances the overall sound and keeps focus. Each instrument is showcased clearly, none out of sight. The feedback in Long Ball Game, the dampened drums in Funderland add up to a refreshing pop-style EP I can say is up there with potatoes in the Irish top 10.
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  • Limited Edition EP Tape Cassette w/ Download
    Cassette + Digital Album

    Pro-dubbed green cassette tape in a white case, each one hand titled by the band.

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about

Recorded and Mixed by Fiachra McCarthy (HEFTTRAX).

Recorded in the Pop Inn on October 10th & 11th 2014.

Danny Carroll is culpable for the lyrics, vocals, guitars and bontempi.
Josh Donnelly hits dem drums.
Keith Broni is big on bass.

The e-bow and tambourine on track 3 is courtesy of The Run Ons maverick Fiachra McCarthy.

The Grand Stretch was mastered by Stephen Quinn (Analog Heart).

Artwork by Andrew Smyth.

Released by Popical Island.

credits

released July 25, 2015

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about

Shrug Life Dublin, Ireland

Shrug Life is the questionable, protective moniker of Josh, Danny and Keith. Together they make music and fight first world problems. This is their story...

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Track Name: Chewing Gum Breakfast
Regret the events that can’t be retraced
Like six missed calls from private numbers
All those photos with thumb over lense…
Near dead on a strangers couch again

You can never pinpoint the part from pre-drink to down and out,
Your shoes scuffed and your split ends pronounced in fear,
Can you hear them say…

Welcome to the wilderness years
Telesales execs with fundraising peers
Another toast to our bright careers

Make a muted midday exit
As you savour your chewing gum breakfast
Wallet emptied of its paper possessions
Y’can’t blame it on a double dip recession
Still can’t remember last night’s session

Bachelors of arts and cold calling

Watch the clock and count the commission
Sleepwalk through, the only ambition…
Track Name: Funderland
Distant dreams fight your present position
Mopping floors in a Supermac’s kitchen
Searching for some balance between
What you are and what you might be

The band’s been working on a second E.P
It’s taken two years and you’ll sell it for free
At least it keeps your little hands busy…
And in some small part of your heart you’re Thin Lizzy.

Amongst the pasty, pallid, punched out faces
Comatose commuters from indefinite places
On the green line home to broom closet bedsits
Waiting for life to happen…
The rents a steal at 800 a month
You can switch on the oven without getting out of bed
You can sit on the coin-locked washing machine
Close your eyes - Think of Funderland

Distant dreams, awkward ambition
Never admit to the vaguest of vision
'Cause you want the things that can’t seen
Trapped within this tired routine
Trying to keep the lino clean
You want the things that won’t be seen
Trapped within this tired routine
Tuesday supports in Fibber Magees…
Track Name: Long Ball Game
Playing the long ball game to your heart
Distant and desperate and flawed from the start, but
There’s never been a plan b
So it’s hit n’ hope, it’s wait and see

More Jordi Cruyff than Johan;
The shadow of another man.
Your fifth choice, on the bench
Useful when there’s no one else…

Playing the long ball game to your heart
Basic, outdated and doomed from the start
But there’s never been a plan b
And you’ve closed me down so easily

With my Kevin Kilbane conviction
Graceless, slow-paced but persistent…
My failure’s only 99 per cent
So the willingness alone keeps me relevant

If I could be just a bit more German
A bit better at taking my chances
If I could be just a little less Irish
Less anxious in my advances…

It’s not good enough to be your runner up anymore.
Track Name: Running On Crutches
Next month made up of masturbation
Dirty talk for old frustration
Curtains drawn in the afternoon
Pity smothers any pleasure pretty soon, with the
Sunscreen Song on infinite repeat
Setting the trend for dressing gown chic, watching
Jeremy Kyle and Dr.Phil all week
Shout at the scumbags, cry with the meek
It’s the kind of trash you seek at the peak of your weakness

Have you proved your point yet?
Rung out every last little drop of regret

The next month passes in preparation
Trying to improve, but too impatient, when you
Text your ex It’s like running on crutches
Rush to win her back but you buckle with the grudges
‘Cause you left your last fight looping on repeat, it’s the
Unfinished argument you mutter in your sleep, it’s the
First thought when she agrees to meet
Should I set the record straight with a vitriolic speech?
Should I try to cling on like some lovesick leech?
Should I try to be a man, keep my feelings out of reach, but then
In a flash, she’ll breach the peak of my weakness…

Have you proved your point yet?
Rung out every last little drop of regret…

Next month finding some small foundation
A kind of comfort in crude creation
Little degrees of discipline
Allow yourself a lopsided grin.

Have you proved your point yet?
Rung out every last little drop of regret
Do you wish you’d never met?
Better for the fall and break of it all.