Tune Tuesday

WHY? is an indie band that Jonathon Wolf started around 2005. What makes them different is the other styles they throw in; hip hop and folk. In a way I feel more like they are telling me a story than singing me a song. The two wolf brothers were born from a Jewish family. "Before his first year in high school, Wolf discovered an old 4-track in his father's synagogue and began to experiment musically. His forays into rapping, drumming, and poetry followed."

My favorite so far is "The Hollows"! Also you can see tour dates if you click "WHY?" above. I believe they are mostly in Europe right now, but will be coming back to America later this year.



Lyrics...

As I lay me down to fall asleep
with my demons dying
and my pilot light weak,
I curse the last six months
I've been hiding behind a mustache, yeah.
And to those last 10 years
I've been howling a paper moon.
Well fuck you.

This goes out to all my underdone
and undertongued,
long-longed frontment.
(This is what the ghost of someone's dad says)
And all us earth growths,
some planted,
And some pulled
Shut up and put your money where your mouth is.)

You shine a flashlight in
a hat box and spin,
an empty oyster shell,
and celebrate the hollows.

This goes out to dirty dancing, cursing,
back-masking, back-slitting pastor's kids.
(From behind bars its not so hard to see he's risen.)
And all us earth growths,
some planted,
And some pulled.
Nobody finds god and then goes to prison.)

In Berlin I saw two men fuck
in the dark corner of a basketball court.
Just a slight jingle
of pocket change pulsing.

In the tourist park I lost 50 euros
to a guy with the walnut shells
and the marble.
it really pissed me off
so eww, I thought I'd go back
to get my money,
but all my homies warned me,
"oh no, those gypsies probably
got knives."

This goes out to all my under-brewed,
double duped, two time truthfuls.
(Stop thinking a phone call
or text is too complicated.)
And all us earth growths,
some planted,
(Like a married uncle at a family function.)
And some pulled.

I got them shaky gums and a couple of loose tooths.
Now tell me what should I do?
My God, the clock's always
stuck tellin' 11:11, at 3:32.

This goes out to all to my under-done,
under-tongued blung-wunged frontmen.
And all us earth growths,
some planted,
and some pulled

This goes out to my under-tongued, over-done, long-longed frontmen.
(This is what the ghost of someone's dad says.)
And all us earth growths doin' the croak
like it ain't no joke.

In a crowded room projected debonair
aloof impermanance
he shrouded loosely
in a heavy air of indeterminates.