Luck

by Worried Well

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  • Digital Album

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1.
02:57
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2.
03:37
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3.
03:13
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4.
03:53
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5.
05:09
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6.
05:50
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7.
04:03
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8.
03:09
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9.
04:05
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10.
02:54
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11.
02:05
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credits

released 07 May 2013
Produced and recorded by TJ Swan at Starfight studio, Rumford Falls, Maine
Mixed by Dean Baltulonis at The Wild Arctic, Portsmouth, New Hampshire
Mastered by David Gardiner at Magneto mastering, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Executive Producers: Jaeger Wells, Jeremy Culberson and Lucas Michaud
Art design, concept and layout by Chicken 3000
All songs written by Daniel James

Worried Well is
Daniel James (vocals, guitar, bass, keyboard)
Cam Jones (drums, background vocals)

Additional performances by
Ashley Brewer, guest vocal on “You’re Doing Fine”
Lexy Judd, guest vocal on “Paul’s Time and Wm. James”
Amanda Gervasi, guest vocal on “Find Your Own God”
Adam Parvanta, drums on “Give ‘Em Hell, Kid”
Additional Background vocals by Ashley Brewer, Amanda Gervasi, Matt Grassi, Erica Grandmaison, Lexy Judd, Mike Prue and Dustin Saucier

Many, many thanks to our families, our many great friends and all of the great bands and artists that we are so privileged to work with. Thank you TJ Swan, AJ Tobey, Dean Baltulonis, David Gardiner, Randa and James Lohmeyer, Valerie Jones, David Ford, Dominic Grosso, Erica Grandmaison, Bethany Petrisch, Ashley Brewer, Lexy Judd, Amanda Gervasi, Dustin Saucier, Adam Parvanta, Matt Grassi, Mike Prue, Mark Curdo and WCYY, Andy Bohren, Lucas Michaud, Aaron Bouchard, Jaeger Wells, Jeremy Culberson, John Vavra, Tim Plumer Jr., Jacob Simcock, Jason Legacy.
Forget Forget, When Particles Collide, The Box Tiger, Tan Vampires, Jeff Beam, The Milkman’s Union, Chamberlin, Volcano Rabbit, Boxes, City Streets Country Roads, The Deliberates, Dan Capaldi and Sea Level, Dean Ford, Ryan Dolan, Ken Bell, Kenya Hall, The Other Bones, A Severe Joy, Headstart, Murder By Death, Lenny Lashley, The Dover Brickhouse, The Big Easy, Empire Dine and Dance.

tags

tags: rock indie-rock Portland

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all rights reserved

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about

Daniel James and Cam Jones are Worried Well, a rock and roll band from Portland, Maine. They like it there.
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Worried Well continues to perform in their native New England, all the while gaining new fans with their desperate and poetic approach to a sound that is scathingly articulate and delivered with sincere honesty. ... more

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Track Name: She's Got Something To Say
She's got something to say and the whole room stops and listens.
A little girl, a set of eyes.

She crushes doubt and sets aside your notions, your small emotions.
She is here, where are you?
She was here, where were you?

Half the size of her guitar. Twice the size of your expectations.
Nearly five feet all, almost nothing at all.

I see her teeth and her fillings. I see some father's hard-earned money spent.
This is your daughter, I hope you're proud
She's getting press and top billings and soon she'll pay her own rent.
You raised her up good, nice and loud.
Pushing and pulling, striking and strumming.
She understands the true beauty of her words because she's beautiful.

And she'll tell it to you softly and you'll listen
like it was spoken loudly.
As if you needed her permission
to see her naked soul, to hear her thoughts and hopes,
to share any connection.
Forget your learned role
and tell your friends that oh
you were lucky to be there.
To hear her mouth let go. To feel her eyelids close.
You were lucky to be there.

She was here, where were you?
Track Name: I Couldn't Make Stairs
I am a man and I work as hard as any other man
and I'm worth what a day's worth of work is worth.
I have no plans so different from any other man
Just to own my very own patch of dirt.

But it's the "ins" that weed me out.
It's society's filth that plants the deepest doubt.
This sick consensus. Public mood
is the worm that's twisting through my food.

I had a spare to spare at an earlier time
but I gave it to the next kid in line.
I had five wooden squares but I couldn't make stairs.
And when they bribed me I respectfully declined.
I had trouble getting air and I couldn't stand square
With a faulty build and twisted little spine.
I flinched when they threw the book at my eyes.
How could you tell I would have just as soon have died?

I was a boy just like any other boy
but they couldn't shape me into their employ.
I was as sweet as I felt i could afford to be
in an environment with nothing to enjoy.

Conjuring up soon forced me down.
And built a hunched and broken feeling
into the tallest kid in town.
I learned to whisper suppressing any speech
of value lurking underneath.

Unaware of the glaring social hierarchy
I appeared to be the jester of the keep.
They'd all just stop and stare at the boy who didn't care.
Drifting end to end til out of reach.
I learned to misdirect their hateful speech
and use it all to fuel a clever retreat.
I laughed when they threw the book at me.
I smiled when I should have shown no teeth.
Track Name: Luck
I’m getting to know my way around the hospital real well.
You’re sweating off the days in your own personal hell.
Tell me are you fine hiding in there,
It’s really hard to know from just your vacuous stare.
Maybe soon they’ll find the time and the MRI’s will prove that you’re just fine
And hiding up there.

You taught me all about luck.
You told me that there is nothing that’s fair.
You learned me that there is such a thing as being right and also dead
And it’s your own damn business what’s up inside your head.
Words are all I have to give to you.
If everybody lies then so can you.
Honesty’s an awful thing but I would never spare you.
I’m gonna learn you the truth.
Track Name: Sickly Honest
You get sickly honest

Right before you get sick

You miss moment 
If you're thinking past it

You'll never know why I can't be tamed

You'll never know how I rarely feel safe 




But she knows the twisted way to my heart
Is better left alone after dark.

She knows me well enough not to believe me.

I'm never strong enough to not deceive you, you see.

We've known for long enough it's too god-damned easy.

Now I'm sickly honest. Put me to sleep. Now I'm sickly honest put me to sleep.



You get waves of nausea.
Right before it gets deep.

This sinking ship was capsized by speech. 

Sour winds of temperance rip through my soul.

Be my compass rose, tell me which way to go.


And even as I wade to find you trembling in the dark.

I'm afraid that it's still fear I'm holding closer to my heart




Swim an ocean of emotion, speak to my soul

Through these frosty wicked winds that force me to compose.

Give so gladly to this madly narcissistic, cold, persistent child you love to know. 
Track Name: You're Doing Fine
The sun is peeking through the basement windows.
The morning birds force a smile across your face.
It’s time for you to go to bed among the snoring, sleeping dead
And pretend for five hours you’re resting just fine.

The self abuse is free, riddled in dreams.
With a heart like mine nothing is fine.
The feelings inside are disrupting the lines of reality
You frequently fight to define.
Just act like you’re doing fine.

The new buildings of the ‘80’s are growing gay with age.
Soon you’ll start doing the same.
You’re bordering the gutters, falling from the others,
Soon you’ll be outside the frame.

From the far off feeling of dread to the pulse pounding fear in your head
You can’t even hide when you can’t decide
Between the gray-green sickness of doubt and the black and red circles about
The lines on your face that suggest you know what age is about.
Track Name: Paul's Time and Wm. James
There are many things that I never got to talk to Paul about.
Namely the war, his old cars. 

We never got to sit and drink a beer, not really.

Never had a chance to come together, ultimately.


But here and there we'd find a common thread.

"Is that how people do things now?" he'd said. 


The past, it wasn't like that. Not so simple or unkind. 

But men behaved like men and boys never cried. 

You did the work you had to do to get your family by. 

Growing old and aching all the time.



It's a tragedy; a god damned shame.
 
It could be worse you see, so don't place blame.

Under a gaslight, beside a frame lies the son of William James. 


A baker, a performer, a magician all the same.

An immigrant's son. A boy in a man's frame.


I never got to know you outside a picture frame.
But I bear your face, profession and your name. 
Mixing on a barrel in the basement in PA.
What did you “know” about the future?
Did you worry all day?



How did the streets look before there were so many cars?

How peaceful were the skies before there were planes?

You’d quote the grace of God and the catholic way,
The finer points of business.
You sang all day.

From the lawn in Bronxville, captured in super 8.

Did you know you’d raise, four children who'd shine as bright as flames?
Track Name: Lords of the Beach
We were eleven and twelve years old.
Jonny was tall but I was still small.
We reigned as lords of the beach,
Ice cream and adventure were well within reach.
We’d yet to learn what desperation was.
We tackled the tides secure in our family’s love.

If we were fifteen and sixteen again,
I’d apologize I did not try
To grasp your parent’s breach.
It seemed that quite quickly you’d lost your speech.
We saw first hand what a panicked man would try
After being sure then suddenly denied.

It happened right here in this god damned house,
A mutiny of love from a tired spouse.
A table full of eyes casts a constant strain
On the very kind of love that will never be whole again.

We try, we try to push aside the fears that bruise and paralyze
The thoughts of dread that won’t disappear
Are spilling out my goddamned ears
Why and for what

Remember six and seven again?
Swore on our lives we’d be best friends,
No matter family ties.
Me and my Jonny, the bravest guys.
We never knew the meaning of despair
What matters more is that we’re both still here.

I’m sorry Jonny, you’ll be strong
Where many men have come and gone.
A half a country’s distance long,
My heart to yours we’ll conquer on.
Track Name: Over and Over
Over and over I've been thinking to myself,
With things that I give you you're better off with someone else.
You won't believe the problems I conceive.
In six more months will you belong to me?
Over and over I've been thinking to myself.

The "B" on my hand for band
Will be stuck to my forehead again.
And to the sheets, the bed and the pillow
You'll know where I've been.

It makes me sick to know
That you'd rather have me go
When my head's inside-out with the pressure
Of living my goddamned dreams.


Is it better to say something foul
when you think something foul
Than to lie through your teeth?
You goddamned cheat
and deprive us a night of howling out in the streets.

Over and over I've been thinking to myself...

That we don't want to be on our own for even a moment.
We'll conjure up ghosts to toast to.
These omens are stranger than most. We're thick as a couple of thieves
Who trade jests and boasts to fight desperation.
We'll never come close to feeling alright.
But despite all these flaws, we're within our laws.
So raise your arm off the table, start workin' yer jaw.


We'll never feel anything valuable that we will believe.
We're living our lives at night in hopes that we won't be seen
As such creatures of dread,
Like those stuck in my head.
I guess we've given an awful lot of time to such vanity
Track Name: Find Your Own God
Even though we don't know why or which way, we're going there anyway.
Even though I don't where it is right now, I'll meet you there somehow.

You told me that I had to believe in something.
I suppose then, that I believe in your kindness and your beauty.
If I were made to choose for myself a deity,
Then I'd pray to the face that I dream of everyday anyway.

What would be the point of going anywhere, not to see you when I got there?
Not a single sight, closed or open air, can hold a light to you, so fair.
Track Name: Give 'Em Hell, Kid
What remained the truth for a certain amount of time
Was that we had spoken for the last time in our lives.

What became so clear in the ER's fluorescent shine

Was that you'd slowly worried yourself blind


So now they say you're depressed

But I'm pretty sure they lied.
If you can't get yourself dressed

You might as well have died. 


Why bother giving pills

Unless marked as cyanide?

You can't eat food or crack a smile

You've got no life.

I've been staring down death

Directly in his sunken face

And his name is my name

And his body's the same.


What love of punishment would keep me here with

A ghastly ghost with graying beard

Graying teeth and graying hair



And without an escape

Or someone to reshape 

My every tendency 

I'm going to end up there

Shrinking from light 

And tearing out my hair 

I've never been more certain of anything 

I'm gonna end up like this sickly person in front of me. 


And for what gain?

If this worlds all a game?

The cruelest joke of ‘em all
Is dying across the hall.



Give 'em hell, kid 
You used to say

I'm in hell, Dad

Thanks anyway.
Track Name: Me and Mine
You are my reason for breathing.
The reason why I try at anything.
My conscience and my hear in one hand.
You’re giving me that look again.
You make me feel better about everything,
The reason why my life’s worth living.
And I’m sorry that you’re sick
And if I could find God we’d have some words
And he’d be sorry because
You don’t fuck with the kindest people on earth unless you want to die.
So please, please stay away from me and mine.