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Curdle Speaks EP (feat. George Korein)

by Eric Slick

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Way back when Way back then In a world less full Of clutter and noise Everything cost less Way back then Way back when In a world less full Of dollars and toys Everything paid less So let it be made plain If everything cost less And everything paid less Then everything cost the same The price didn’t change The value didn’t change Only the numbers changed Only the price’s name (At least that is how it is supposed to work Wages had to go and stagnate and mess up my song and many people’s lives The right wing ain’t bread and roses They use the illusion to starve the minimum wage Come November, please end their reign) Way back then Way back when We had small numbers  We didn’t need big numbers Now everything costs more And everything pays more The price didn’t change The value didn’t change But the numbers multiplied Maybe that says something About what is not the same In a world more full Of clutter and noise And dollars and toys
Lighter Vice 02:29
Some get high on abasement Down in the basement For all I know that’s nice I don’t know what echelon you’re kvetchin’ on Which story of purgatory Which jerk circle of hell But I do my time Confined in the sub-sub-finished-basement-den Of rated-PG lighter vice PB cups in the parking lot Feeling like a creep Another boring orgy with myself in the wallows of pleasure 32 vitamin gummies And 3/4 of a box of cookies deep Throw me down a pack of candy cigarettes It’s “snack on ‘em if you got ‘em” down in the oubliette But let me tell you Now I’ve got myself together Half pound of light deli turkey in the parking lot Eaten with my hands Spinach superfood salad with no dressing while I’m driving down Lincoln Swerving to extinguish cigarette butts with my wheels But you know what they say Whether you crash on Lincoln Drive because of oral sex or because of a spinach superfood salad with no dressing, you’re just as quadriplegic either way
I like to bike share a bike share a bike share a bike Hope I don’t die on a bike on a bike on a bike For 12 bucks a month I can walk up to any kiosk and roll away with wings Bike rights sound right to me Bike lanes are quite nifty When I ride a bike I feel right i feel right i feel right Hope I survive on a bike on a bike on a bike “you get on the bike, then you put it back You get on the bike, It’s so convenient, ack!” (that line is by Hattie)
Great Music 01:49
Great music is falling out of our pockets, rolling amidst branded napkins and fast-food containers. When the arcade claw crane drops down the uncovered drain, it never comes up with that great music which is never heard again. Great music becomes a currency of curios for deaf vermin in the sewers. Great music is whistled by the tone deaf man who heard a tone deaf man whistle the tune he heard from the tone deaf man who heard a tone deaf man whistle the tune he heard from the tone deaf man who heard a tone deaf man whistle the tune he heard from a tone deaf woman humming "Ode to Joy". Great music is played by a man drumming two bladed spatulas into the makings of a cheese steak on the grill. Great music is at least 4 hours long and requires exhaustive explorations of melismatic iterations and invocations upon epithets until the singer falls asleep. Good music is at least 20 years old, great music is at least 20 years into the future.
To our descendants after the fall To our descendants after the thaw To our descendants after the rise There’s something I want you to memorialize More of us than ever before Live better than the kings of old, in the lap of luxury untold Our personal palaces low on intrigue / Relatively assassin-free More options than we need or want / Maybe we’re sorry, probably not So sculpt a statue of a phone Sculpt a statue of a drone Sculpt a statue of an app No, I don’t know how to do that You’ve already paid for what we reaped I’m no good at apologizing But I am good at saying thanks So thanks for the bounty you won’t taste It tasted pretty sweet Though I wasn’t paying attention I was reading the next tweet
The civilians you've slaughtered In pursuit of dignity The innocents you've trampled While trying not to break your stride The captives that you've tortured With your fumbling rage Permanent wounds inflicted Trying to feel dignified The offenses you commit With your hyperdefensive reflex The bile you spit When you won't swallow your pride If that doesn't weigh you down It should really weigh you down Are you grown up enough to live it down And give it up Give it up Suck it up Bite your lip and get over it Let go of your ego, it's killing your family Bite a stick, stop being a prick You don't want to hear it The least you can do is bear it Get over yourself and serve And smile while you serve Grow and serve


Curdle was an experiment to see if I could make a co-ordinated and composed free jazz record by myself. I tracked it all in a day on October 26, 2015. It’s a fun listen!

Eventually I asked people online if they’d try to sing over it and only one person responded. That was George Korein.


released March 13, 2019

George Korein - vocals and production
Eric Slick - everything else

Mixed by Zach Goldstein
Mastered by James Plotkin


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Eric Slick Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

While with previous solo records Palisades and Bullfighter Slick mined his subconscious for the moodier and more abstract side of the coin, Wiseacre is a technicolored exaltation. It reads like a novel, sequencing in chronological order the ups and downs of self-acceptance before fully committing to someone else. ... more


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