divorce lawyers i shaved my head
by jordaan mason and the horse museum
John Smith
Daniel Steinhauser
Gunnar Tretusen
Sean Monahan
Fatal Nostalgia
Noam Radcliffe
“the saddest part on the whole album is when he says "i mean" on racehorse:get married! and if that isn't somethin i don't know what is”
Zebulon Westman
“Very dark yet almost cozy folk, this album is the perfect companion during a dark summers night”
Miranda McKinney
Wojciech Rybczyk
…
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Digital Album
Immediate download of 14-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Buy Now name your price
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bird's nest
04:02
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organs for oceans
05:04
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avalanches
02:17
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racehorse: get married!
06:21
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prayer
02:18
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o jarhead! o wife!
06:43
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hymn/her
01:52
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_____ is water
04:18
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(s)mother
04:18
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wild dogs: divorce!
05:39
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about
UPDATE: "divorce lawyers" is temporarily unavailable as a physical disc. we are currently waiting for access to another box of CDs that is in storage, so for the time being we are unable to take CD orders. please contact us directly at jordaanmason@gmail.com if you are interested in purchasing one, and we will be in touch when we've retrieved them!
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wandered around small towns in the middle of the night until the feet stung and swelled; woke up in hospitals after black-outs; fell in love with a boy but a girl but a boy but a girl; thought long about what is that thing between my legs; shaved my head. no identity, now.
then a lot of us started singing, banging, breaking. what was once a single voice grew into many. one broke an arm, one wrote a book, one kept bees, two were bashed, two finished degrees, more & more came in and out of rooms. after many more black-outs and long nights hollering until the throat stung, we had 'divorce lawyers i shaved my head,' an album that amaglamates sexual histories into a story about a failed marriage between two people of confused genders and identites taking place during a glandolinian war in 1990.
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wandered around small towns in the middle of the night until the feet stung and swelled; woke up in hospitals after black-outs; fell in love with a boy but a girl but a boy but a girl; thought long about what is that thing between my legs; shaved my head. no identity, now.
then a lot of us started singing, banging, breaking. what was once a single voice grew into many. one broke an arm, one wrote a book, one kept bees, two were bashed, two finished degrees, more & more came in and out of rooms. after many more black-outs and long nights hollering until the throat stung, we had 'divorce lawyers i shaved my head,' an album that amaglamates sexual histories into a story about a failed marriage between two people of confused genders and identites taking place during a glandolinian war in 1990.
credits
released 06 June 2009
T H E H O R S E M U S E U M :
dee addario (vox, banjo, cough)
jason aviss (trombone)
sarah ayton (vox, piano, accordion)
kristina born (flute)
shaun brodie (trumpet)
cheryl ernst (vox, alto and bass clarinet)
tara fillion (hand-claps)
cory latkovich (cello)
kate larson (vox, hand-claps)
richard laviolette (vox)
jordaan mason (vox / illiteracy, guitar, singing saw, banjo [6], accordion [12], music box)
jason "sticks" mccrimmon (drums / percussion, dulcimer)
kit wilson-yang (upright bass)
recorded and mixed by bryar gray & jordaan mason at the oxford hotel, the music gallery, and bryar's house (all in toronto) from december 2007 - march 2009, except track 7 which was recorded in arcata, california at das gasthaus by mat vuksinich in may 2007.
tracks 1-7, 9-11, 12-14 written by j. mason / arranged by the horse museum; track 8 written by s. ayton / s. brodie; track 12 written by j. mason / j. mccrimmon
in various stages our band grew and shrank, and other members not present on this recording include matt gordon, bryar gray, keith hamilton, d. alex meeks, jordan "o'jordan" smith, matt ross, dan scarfone, dylan taylor, and simon thrasher.
although the horse museum is no longer working as a collective group, all of us are still active in other endeavours.
mood-swings.bandcamp.com
thebloodwashedband.bandcamp.com
sayton.bandcamp.com
bumtickins.bandcamp.com
klessa.bandcamp.com
redsledchoir.bandcamp.com
guiltmountain.bandcamp.com
teamkate.com
tygertygerburnsbright.tumblr.com
childreneatingbirds.bandcamp.com
globeandmale.tumblr.com
magichelicopterpress.com
this record was part of a larger project that was developed over several media, including a body of photographic work which can be seen here:
www.flickr.com/photos/jordaanmason/sets/72157622956585540/
T H E H O R S E M U S E U M :
dee addario (vox, banjo, cough)
jason aviss (trombone)
sarah ayton (vox, piano, accordion)
kristina born (flute)
shaun brodie (trumpet)
cheryl ernst (vox, alto and bass clarinet)
tara fillion (hand-claps)
cory latkovich (cello)
kate larson (vox, hand-claps)
richard laviolette (vox)
jordaan mason (vox / illiteracy, guitar, singing saw, banjo [6], accordion [12], music box)
jason "sticks" mccrimmon (drums / percussion, dulcimer)
kit wilson-yang (upright bass)
recorded and mixed by bryar gray & jordaan mason at the oxford hotel, the music gallery, and bryar's house (all in toronto) from december 2007 - march 2009, except track 7 which was recorded in arcata, california at das gasthaus by mat vuksinich in may 2007.
tracks 1-7, 9-11, 12-14 written by j. mason / arranged by the horse museum; track 8 written by s. ayton / s. brodie; track 12 written by j. mason / j. mccrimmon
in various stages our band grew and shrank, and other members not present on this recording include matt gordon, bryar gray, keith hamilton, d. alex meeks, jordan "o'jordan" smith, matt ross, dan scarfone, dylan taylor, and simon thrasher.
although the horse museum is no longer working as a collective group, all of us are still active in other endeavours.
mood-swings.bandcamp.com
thebloodwashedband.bandcamp.com
sayton.bandcamp.com
bumtickins.bandcamp.com
klessa.bandcamp.com
redsledchoir.bandcamp.com
guiltmountain.bandcamp.com
teamkate.com
tygertygerburnsbright.tumblr.com
childreneatingbirds.bandcamp.com
globeandmale.tumblr.com
magichelicopterpress.com
this record was part of a larger project that was developed over several media, including a body of photographic work which can be seen here:
www.flickr.com/photos/jordaanmason/sets/72157622956585540/
tags
license
all rights reserved
feeds
feeds for about
the horse museum was a band that existed from 2007-2010 in between various cities in southern ontario and new york state. we sang semi-illiterate songs about sex and sickness and the decline of stupid fucking western civilization.
discography
-
Jun 2009 -
May 2007
contact / help
For help with downloads, click here.
For all other inquiries, click here.
- Track Name: bird's nest
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my mouth is filled with his ovaries. i hold them, here: between my teeth.
o (dentist) get these birds nests out of me (my body is not big enough).
how do you fertilize what cannot be? - Track Name: organs for oceans
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he slept in my bed after i filled his body with
insects & panic & grandfather sewn seeds
i was useless inside him; trade organs for oceans
is there a vaccine for this?
to clean out all the unborn kids
(a whole graveyard here in this bed)
he broke me good where the landlord left scars
emptied all the bedrooms to reclaim the stretchmarks
we were to our throats in grass!
we tore down the treehouses!
and our brothers were kindling for the lovesongs that we couldn't sing
because we drowned all our songs in the bathtub
(you could hear them way up in the rafters)
and the preachers sleeping in the attic stole them all for scriptures
we sing nothing, now; our mothers ask us how
we pray with the lights out for songs to fill our mouths - Track Name: avalanches
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if snow is flesh in gardens: we don't have mouths to talk about it
between avalanches, we can find our language
between fire blankets, we can speak our language
but if snow is like skin: it pulls away, so easy, dragged from the body
what if all stripped wood is branches and all frozen lakes are water?
then our bodies will be avalanches - Track Name: racehorse: get married!
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you fuck like a racehorse!
it's your wedding day, say: yes
you want to be pollinated
frays of friction far too sacred
we survive between our hunger
dig our heads into the water
memorize your casket, your mother patterns
the space between your legs, i grab what's good of you
you pluck fruit from my endless head
re-arrange them to make your salt sweat
bite snakes down for better shelter
fridge your orgasm, make it colder
we put our blood in bags, we don't want water
and you hold me close inside the slaughter
and you look so much better without that shit in your hair
i mean, saddles if you need them, but i could ride you bare
and you can swallow shotguns if you want to
there are bullets in your paintings, if you want them
there are hooks to hang your kill
there are floodboards rising upward
fields our fathers fled from, and bedrooms we don't dare go to
i would like a word with you!
you can swallow shotguns if you want to
and you can shed the lions from your songs
take the blankets off, show me under your clothes:
the tattoos you don't have, but believe me, your body knows
you can swallow shotguns if you want to
it's your wedding day, say: yes
aprons or rifles, anarchist?
sleep in the slaughterhouses?
quilts quiet made from our spit?
i am letting all you horses go
(you are better wild my arms are coming out) - Track Name: the wrong parts (vivian sisters singing)
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i'm sharing this bed with seven sisters, and you
and i'm holding a baseball bat between us:
the soldiers are coming!
and there's an illiteracy between our legs
where parts of me are you and parts of you are me
i'm wearing the costumes of children
so i can confuse, become them
but how do you know what's underneath
what kind of creature is in me?
and there's an illiteracy between our legs (i've tried to ignore it!)
this part, that part
which part, both parts
please say: wrong parts
which word? safe word!
"do you have a safe word?"
"i don't have a safe word"
she shows me a constellation of bites and marks i've left on her body
of bruises from the way we share our bed with seven other mares
look out! the soldiers are coming! - Track Name: prayer
-
sold my skin for all their cancer
what do you want from me?
i will not clinic you easy
i am holding conversations: limp gazelles in my arms
we are absolutely calm (so tell me)
where do you put your cock in?
when do you put your cock in?
how do you sleep your cock in?
why do you keep your cock in? - Track Name: o jarhead! o wife!
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i gave birth to body white collected to my thighs
held her there, between my legs, and brought my knees up high
and she slid out, i don't know how (my body is not big enough)
you left yr meat all in the leaves, gathering sweat from the graves
you body cistern, i brought you a sister from what holes i could not crave
but i'll go, and be brave: i only have faith in what is good
- - - - - - - - - - -
i knew a boy who built an aviary
he gathered all the wood that he could carry
i pulled from his chest to get blind from the bees
and we exchanged helium because we're tired of ceilings
i found him bucked out like a jarhead
his antlers found seaweed from an ocean bed
and he carried carvings of his own geography
but had he stabbed his own eyes out so he couldn't see
(blind-drawn maps all over his hands)
- - - - - - - - - - -
i said:
i don't want to be yr wife i couldn't stand to do this my whole life
my breast milk is heavy and you don't have the strength to help me with this baby
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and when we pull out of each other, i ask you if you can tug me off
you ask me if i can put you out like "what fire" and "drag the shit from each other"
"all the fluids from your mother"
i can barely stand in your lake disease again w/ yr vomit up to my waist
- - - - - - - - - - -
and in the hospital they ask me if i know where your parts go
but i tell them your body isn't made from skin they know - Track Name: hymn/her
- "my eyes closed in the club" - j. stewart
- Track Name: _____ is water
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made myself a map of folds to fuck and feel and feign as meat
and all my bronze is breathing, blind painting, my body's a disease
your closet's full of dead birds, the stables in your mouth are awake
all my weight is wet, the wallpaper is coming off my face
p l e a s e p u l l a l l t h e w h a l e s o u t o f m e !
did you know i ate all the rivers?
did you know all of me is water, and so are you? - Track Name: (s)mother
-
the doctors told him, he'd be gone by now
his lungs full of blankets: burnt, black, and bound
he buried his family in the backyard
flooded the basement, filled it up with tar
we borrowed their old clothes, and then we undressed
we stole a trampoline and made it our mattress
and slept with all the houselights on waiting for them to come
he said: 'it's so much easier to believe in nothing;
it's so easy to wait impatiently to die.'
he pulled his pants around his ankles
and he showed me all the places he went purple
because he held too hard his own skin
since no one else would touch him
and i (s)mothered him, beastly
and we shared our severed head dreams
i held him where the sickness was
and i nursed him through the night
we stayed that way all night
(let's go to sleep now we'll talk about it in the morning) - Track Name: wild dogs: divorce!
-
we wed behind the old house, offered our skin
removed it from our branches, and let it be curtains
and i asked him where he put the bones;
and i asked her where she put the bones:
they fed them to the horses
we shivered and kissed our linen loud
and held the holy spirit in our mouths
and my beard did break when it found his face;
and my beard did break when it found her face
but there's still one light in one house, far in fields from the city
one light is a forest fire left running in the pantry
one light is a campfire in the living room for reptiles
who promise they'll get new skin between the wars, at night fall
wild dogs: can i confess, i never wanted this marriage
coming home to wife and kids and failed science experiments
tear down all the laundry lines!
get the sickness out of me!
....
and we danced to 'cecilia,' like i did with my mother
stomping loud, we filled the kitchen up with each other
we shaved our heads clean, and left off the lighthouse
kept clothes for ransom, while he pulled the lakes out
and he confessed a gravedigger shared with him his bed
(i got up to wash my face when i come back to bed someone's taken my place...)
and i pulled the telephones right out of his head
he quit his job, pulled his teeth, and moved down to the harbour
he stole all my money to pay for the lawyers
and now he's a whalekiller in the wasteland for hire
he can only get it up when you set him on fire
and i was lost between his mouth and my mouth and a to z
we sinned together when we spread our seeds
and now my bashed head can't sew his blood on my back
we are broke for bricks, and the house is quiet - Track Name: after the glandolinian war
- after the glandolinian war we can all finally sleep sound
- Track Name: carpenter/rebuild the body out of birds
-
there's a bulk of birds in your bonfire head
and you sleep with one eye open
and you slice away your arms like bread
to butter with your semen
and your hair is knots of nooses you could strangle
strange and lonely
carpenter, sleep gardens red
and re-arrange your body
because in the dark, we all sound the same
our bodies are blistered from needing
i made you a bed from pieces of my legs
and you sorely sat there, bleeding
animal sister boy, could i have kept you
is there a way of wood to protect you
sent from houses, stripped and cold
i carried on my back: piano planks and forestry
for shelter in your chest
you are sores and red flesh, let's sleep again
sin our way through secrets and cause all the violence
and let's leave our bodies
pull our "skin" from these "bones," and this "house" from these "homes" - Track Name: 1990 was a long year and we are all out of hot water now
-
let the stove get hot: we need heat
to harm all the house with our teeth
i can't make dinner properly
you are a girl with a cock?
i am a boy who can't talk?
warm the analphabet soup to grind all the milk out of you
we share the kitchen table, and vomit the newspaper back and forth
but: can i talk to you?
i'd like a word with you (let's invent a whole new language)
divorce lawyers i shaved my head; she shaved her head: we are new
standing near the window, she pulls her pants down, a little, and says:
'do you see where i used to be a boy?'
i say, 'i've had it in my mouth: i swallowed the evidence down
and the children we wanted around have stayed in my stomach to drown.'
she panics and says, 'this is all i have in my hands.
i want to forget who i am. i want to fuck and forget who i am.'
and so we swallow faucets and spit hot water between our lips, like:
what would we say instead?
and we gather our hair like bark from backyards where
we force the fire to spread with sawdust carved from our heads
where did you put my autobiography?
where did you put all the wood for the winter?
where did you thrust all the oil we kept up?
and how do we get warm how do we stay warm?
