A Very Fine Sample (2005)

by Thunderegg

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about

Thunderegg's first full-band album, popularly known as "A.V.F.S.O.W.A.A.T.M." for short, features ten favorites recorded between 2001 and 2004 by Nathan Gohla in and around Hartford, Connecticut. In addition to Will on guitar and vocals, Jake on bass, and Keith on drums, A Very Fine Sample also features guest appearances by Jonathan Chatfield (keyboards), Tom Colligan (guitar), Tim Kane (trumpet), and Nate himself (guitar).

For a limited time starting in June 2014, the digital version includes the Thunderegg International Project: people of various nationalities saying "Thunderegg" in their native tongues. These snippets were originally intended to be part of the 2005 edition of A Very Fine Sample, but they were scuttled at the last minute and instead became bonus tracks on the 2006 Open Book compilation. Now they've been restored.

credits

released June 7, 2005

Will Georgantas: vocals, guitar
Jake Fournier: bass
Keith Woodfin: drums

with:

Jonathan Chatfield: keyboards
Nathan Gohla: guitar
Tim Kane: trumpet
Tom Colligan: guitar

All songs written by Will Georgantas, © 2005 Zivlizdin Songs/BMI. Recorded between 2001 and 2004 by Nathan Gohla/Natron Productions at Ward Studios, University of Hartford, Hartford, CT, and the Shed, Manchester, CT. Produced by Natron Productions and Thunderegg. Mastered by Carl Saff at Saff Mastering, Chicago, IL. Album design by Karen Gutkowski for Artificial Ingredients, Brooklyn, NY.

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Track Name: If I Went on a Diet
If I went on a diet, then would you love me? Even if there were so much less of me than there used to be?

When I’m walking down the street I feel you pulling deepest reaches of my spirit, secrets keep no longer than a winter evening, then I find I’m telling you all I never wanted to. It’s inevitable truth and I hate it through and through.

To tell you what I thought would go against all I was taught but I was never a good student, constantly needed improvement. And the curse only got worse till the fool I am emerged, found myself standing on the curb shouting out my foolish words.

And I saw you before the mirror with your hands over your ears so that both you and your reflection wouldn’t ever have to hear. “I love you” won’t be seeping through to either of you soon, but I’ll never drop the dream I’m heard by someone in between.

And if I wear down your defenses and you say you love me too, I’ll put a ring upon your finger just to stick those words to you. But that which slips does also glisten, light shines forth in glimmer soft, from golden rings that I did give, from soap you used to slip it off.

And I’ll find that I’m back standing where I’d long ago once stood, except an aftermath equivalent can never feel as good. Before I watched what I was eating, thought I’d get in shape for you. Now I couldn’t have a bite even if I wanted to.

If I went on a diet, then would you love me? Even if there were so much less of me than there used to be?
Track Name: Supergirlfriend
We were both under the impression that we gave and got nothing back. Where these gifts were going, neither of us could say. But in the larger cosmic order, someone was being rewarded. We should have tracked him down to pry what we gave away.

Sometimes I think you were perfect and I just threw you back because I’m happier when I am stretched on self-loathing’s lonesome rack. You made me full of life but when you woke me from the dead, you dulled my only knife, you made it lose its edge. So that when darkness fell, I could not defend, and depended on the strength of my marvelous girlfriend.
Track Name: The Envelope Pushes Back
We transferred in Stamford, anticipating our New Canaan. Excuse the interruption of your reveries, but the conductor’s been instructed to give this decree: The powers who deem profitability have asked for you to please display your pedigrees. And I will wake in profound confusion, and I will drink from the glass they give, and I will taste their proud infusion, and I will wonder whose life I should live. The envelope pushes back, sick and tired of being conspired against by all the hacks.

I like a world that is murder, and I find myself a willing right-hand man. Speaking low late at the hideout, laying down plans that I don’t quite understand. And the enmity that they send to me when they say that things will never, ever be, and the enmity that they send to me, have they considered that it’s gonna be the end of me? How many licks does it take to get to their core? How many licks can I take and keep coming back for more? The envelope pushes back, sick and tired of being conspired against by all the hacks.
Track Name: What Was I Gonna Do?
Everyman knows everything and Everyman’s a fool, but Everyman’s got a whole new thing [sic] coming for when he meets the likes of you. You defy all known statistics and what I pin on you. You’re an atheistic mystic, a sugar-free sweet tooth. What was I gonna do? You’re fading in the distance. You ran away, should I be chasing you? What was I gonna do?

If I had to buy you a present, I wonder what I’d choose, for I should give you nothing if I believed in the Golden Rule. I’m cutting tighter and tighter circles. When I drop over I come in twos: the rabbit and the turtle, I don’t know which one of us you refuse. What was I gonna do? You’re fading in the distance. You ran away, should I be chasing you? What was I gonna do?

Let’s go down to the seashore or to the Delaware Water Gap. Forget all that came before and what’s coming down the track. When I’m lying, I’ll tell you that I’m lying so even lies will be true, and in the still of the night I’ll tell you that I’m dying, dying, dying, dying over you. What was I gonna do? You’re fading in the distance. You ran away, should I be chasing you? What was I gonna do?
Track Name: In the Loft
She rattles off a clatter up the ladder as she writes electric letters to her mother about matters of disaster. When I ask her if she’s mad, she says she doesn’t have it in her. It’s just another Saturday in the cavern-cold arcade where the guests are always gusting, their requests are so disgusting. Why don’t you swirl the photos like leaves on an autumn day, I say. Swirl them on the carpet before I can cart it away. In the loft, we never did consider the cost. When you get all that space, think of what you lost.

She’s still typing something frantic, no doubt about her antics. I know what you were doing the other side of the Atlantic. It was cheap, cheap, low, dirty, dirty, tap tap tap tap, does you mother sympathize? If she does, it’s no surprise. She has a right to fantasize no one should ever be denied. But not on my time, when you’re using my phone line—the computer’s also mine—while you disseminate the message that it’s tough but you’ll be fine. You will not be mine, but you will not be fine. But I really can’t say why. I sat forever on that line. How can I say I don’t want you to be okay, and that I don’t agree that being kind is the best way? It’s just so sad I’m not invited. Go ahead and just keep writing. Tap tap tap drifting down to me below. Tell your mom I say hello from the loft. We never did consider the cost. When you get all that space, think of what you lost.
Track Name: The Mighty Battlecat
Your voice echoes in my head as I’m lying in my bed and pays no mind to my kind silence or respect for my weakness. It repeats reassurances I know I never heard and sings a song of memory that hasn’t any words. There once was a time when I thought I had a chance, told her when she wasn’t looking was when I danced. I could make her laugh when I talked about the past, but impressing in the present was a little tougher task. I wished upon a fuzzball that came drifting my way that you would fall in love with me one day, but the wind would not permit it and the wish will not come true. It blew the seed back to me instead of blowing it to you.

By then it will be too late for that because Cringer never became the Mighty Battlecat.

So let’s fast forward to when I’m thirty-four and I’ve rented a car to visit you and yours. I almost got lost on the ride across, but for once I take a right turn at the fork. I’ll know you wound up with someone strong because your driveway is so long and I’ll know that I won’t dress like him and I’ll hope that you won’t rub it in. But injury would be insulted twice if you said the same thing that you said tonight, that you have warmest memories of times forgotten long and gone. Why couldn’t I have been there to remind you all along?
Track Name: Just Another Joe
“I love you” is what you say, but you don’t love me the right way. I’m tired of thinking, I’m tired of sleep. I’m tired of reaching for things I can’t keep. I wish I was just another Joe, I wish I was someone you didn’t know. I wish I could start all over again, so I could be your boyfriend instead of your friend.

I place a curse on every guy that you see. He gains a lover in you, but an enemy in me. I’m sure I have him shaking, shaking without shoes, shaking in his bed as he’s lying next to you. Oh man, I want to be a man, but I get the chance so infrequently, I have to take it when I can.

I’m from the land of steady habits, where 91 meets 95, and though I’ve tried for months to drop you, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever tried. One thing I know that would help me forget you is if I went back in time and never had met you. When I made you a promise, I set my own trap. I promised that you’d love me, now I want to take it back.
Track Name: Pardon Your French
I was laying candles on the mantel while you put on the negligee. There was no reason there should be a scandal if the injured party’s gone away. What was that sheen I seen, pictures of him? Thought you buried the evidence. I hope he’d understand that I could be any man and he’ll pardon your French. Yeah, it wasn’t just what you said. Hope he’ll pardon your French and let it all come down on your head instead.

I’d be naive if I didn’t believe he had revenge fantasies up his sleeve. Seething on the streets of Paris, reading a sheet that leads back to my La Boheme seedy scene. I would lay the blame on your frame if I weren’t reaping the benevolence. I just hope he’d understand that I could be any man and he’ll pardon your French. Yeah, it wasn’t just what you said. Hope he’ll pardon your French and let it all come down on your head instead.

I am not the threat. I just took what I could get. And I’m sorry he’s upset, but I’ve done nothing I will regret.

Because it was you and only you who made the mistake, and thanks to that same brand of confusion, I’ve got the same heartache. At least the two of you get to share the same continent. I hope he’d cut some slack for a Jacques who was just as jacked and he’ll pardon your French. Yeah, it wasn’t just what you said. Hope he’ll pardon your French and let it all come down on your pretty head instead.
Track Name: Keep It with You
Baby, you’re not getting what you deserve, and it’s getting on my nerves that I’ve shown I can’t give a lot. Baby, I would give you everything to keep you here with me, but you are all that I have got. But I know I want to keep it where there isn’t so much certain truth. I just kept it too long as a secret, that I only want to keep it with you.

I’m sorry for ruining the party, for always saying sorry when I’m not sorry at all. I’m sorry I’m so cold. I feel so cold. I feel so cold. But I know I want to keep it where there isn’t so much certain truth. I just kept it too long as a secret, that I only want to keep it with you.
Track Name: Ephemeral
Ephemeral, ephemeral moments, time that I’ve spent with you is time I want to lock away. Berrieta, mudslide, a Blue Hawaii, melonball on the side, a few Rumplehoos to make us lose our blues and ev-erything’s okay. And please don’t set me down, not until you’re finished. Finished with me, that is. I don’t care what time it is.

Ephemeral, ephemeral daydream, let my mind go wandering, it always knows its way back home. Thoughts of you dominate my thoughts of late and I can’t figure out how I did without your phone calls to my dark. And please don’t wake me up, I don’t care what time it is. The last time for us, that is, unless it’s not because you’re no longer his.

Ephemeral, ephemeral mood swing, why do I feel that what I’ve said is permanent and what I’ve done can’t be undone? And what compensation can I propose for a mouth that would have been best left closed? If I look in your eyes and apologize, the “I’m sorry” comes two words too late. And how can I deny that I’m not disappointed that the only time I know that you will hold me close is when you’re holding onto this grudge?