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TX, '98

by Flight Mode

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1.
Sixteen 03:30
Sixteen lies. The last with a sigh. There's a reason I've been changing, layers peeling. Take 12 steps, get it off your chest. I know how you've been aching to say you're feeling that there's a skyline to the south, but your memory is ironed out in the valleys of my doubts. In the rearview there's a line. Those sentences I denied I ever claimed as mine. ‘Cause we're just stealing. You're always late, but I'll be there at eight, standing in the back as the band starts playing. Straight to the core. Count to four. I know I should be leaving, but they're all staying. And there's a skyline to the south. But tonight I'll be hiding out in the valleys of my doubts. In the rearview there's a line, going back to where I denied I ever claimed you mine. ‘Cause we're just stealing. We're just stealing. How could I have known if you were the one? As your ship is sinking, my plane's falling. So take a seat on the final beat. All that is remaining.
2.
Fossil Fuel 04:07
It’s cold, a wind sweeps over Dallas. And it tastes like polyester. In the fall I'll try to find a balance. Like standing straight will get me anywhere. It's a year since I set this plan in motion. In the fragile comfort of your room. Up north, and straight across the ocean, we also live on hope and fossil fuel. And I suppose I'm no longer a ghost. Just a distant friend, how we once pretended that we could agree that there’s no more history. We would just depend on present tense. And then, Out here the seasons are semesters. And Spark Notes count as literature. In a world that's new and brave and better. I somehow wish your face would just occur. But I suppose you're no longer a ghost, just a distant friend. How we needed them back when we would agree that there's no more history. Just future tense, I won't defend now and then. I suppose this is nothing but a toast to absent friends, at their expense we'll just wait and see if there's no more history. And just defend the present tense. And then,
3.
Animals 03:55
Take flight, then mark my words. You're leaving in a metal bird. While I'm grounded on solid earth. Didn't bring my attempts any closer. And we wait in a hall. Your name, last call. We've packed your bags, I've checked your pulse. That's exactly why we're not animals. When I read it out loud it's incredible, but I think I lost some bit in the middle. Distorted, a punk rock blur. Playing straight off your tape, this is what I heard: I'm founded in another world. And soon your ascent will be over. And you're strapped to a seat, at thousands of feet. I’ll track your scent, cold and mechanical. That's exactly how we're still animals. When the Atlantic states the inevitable, we are lost somewhere in the middle. It's planless, just how it works. You're drifting down with a different bird. While I'm grounded on solid earth. Didn't bring your descent any closer.
4.
Go 04:27
These strangers, now I know. Race car riots, basement shows. We're driving around, or heading back to the city. This morning we had a plan. Now it feels like failing, slow quicksand. That floating around, I'll give it back to the river. Headed out. Every hour filled with doubt: Where do you go? Take your time, get ahead or draw the line. Where do you go? And why do you need a name for everything you hate? We keep going at it again. The same old tricks, the same old friends. We're strangers, it's true. I've treaded water next to you. Disappointments, I’ve got a few, but I'll give them back to the city. Headed home, heard a sigh through the phone. Where did you go? Take your time, be yourself or be mine. Where did you go? And why do I need a name for everything I hate. I keep going at it again. The same old frets, the same old friends. And where do I go, when there's precedence for the accidental? Where do I go when there's no room to fill and everything’s been said and done? Where do I go? And where did you go?

about

[SAL008]

Nostalgia is at once the most destructive, most overused and most poetic emotion I know. This EP is my attempt at tapping into nostalgia in its utmost purity, musically and lyrically. That specific year, that specific place, that specific guitar tuning, those specific bands.

So, it's about a certain year in my life. It was 1998, I was sixteen and had just moved to Texas on my own. It's about the people I met, the people I had left behind, and the music I encountered there: The Get Up Kids, Braid, Deep Elm Records bands, and most of all the tape of Ultramagg's self titled debut. An album I haven't heard since, but that was always played in my friend's Taurus as we drove around for hours on end, to Magnolia to see a house show, or downtown to buy t-shirts & records. Or as we sat on our skateboards in all those humid nights spent in an IHOP parking lot. At least that's how I remember it.

And that, of course, is the problem with the nostalgic scope. The lens is inaccurate, always a little blurred around the edges, always filtered through the experiences of the 20 years that came after it. If I remember anything, it's not to trust my memory.

Recorded over a weekend in the summer of 2017 (June 22nd-25th, to be specific), unrehearsed and mostly live, and mixed the week after, maybe as a one-off, who knows. I guess I had to wait until the recording itself was a bit tinged with nostalgia, before releasing it.

- Sjur Lyseid

credits

released June 25, 2021

Sjur Lyseid: vocals, guitar, bass guitar
Anders Blom: guitar
Eirik Kirkemyr: drums, bass guitar
Anders Magnor Killerud: backing vocals

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Flight Mode Oslo, Norway

A band from Oslo, Norway.

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