performance:

dennis harvey: all instruments | voice

composition/production:

dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording

FUCK TRUMP AND HER NEO-NAZI SLUMBER PARTY

performance:

matthew mccrary: guitar | voice

dennis harvey: backing voice | drums

composition/production:

matthew mccrary: composition | lyrics

dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording

performance:

dennis harvey: all instruments

composition/production:

dennis harvey: composition | mixing | production | recording

performance:

jason harvey: bass guitar

michael ambro: guitar

paul ambro: guitar

dennis harvey: keyboards

composition/production:

michael ambro: composition

paul ambro: composition

jason harvey: composition

dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording

performance:

mohsin atif: bass guitar

omran shafique: guitar | voice

dennis harvey: drums

composition/production:

mohsin atif: composition

omran shafique: composition | mixing | production | recording

dennis harvey: mastering | mixing | production

extra composition/production:

taha malik: mixing | production | recording

all sounds by various artists

extra composition/production:

dennis harvey: mastering | mixing | production | recording

performance:

jason harvey: bass guitar

michael ambro: guitar

paul ambro: guitar

dennis harvey: keyboards

composition/production:

michael ambro: composition

paul ambro: composition

jason harvey: composition

dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording

Bittersweet creature comforts are here
Masquerading in this atmosphere
As shelter and enviable needful things
Bridges crumbled long before now
Manage to seem new again somehow
Needful things surround us when love can’t be found

Crisis and secrets and skeletons fill
Our best-kept crawlspaces
Where an iconic treasure trove may bend our will
It can’t match the love it replaces

Love in your thought word and deed
These are needful things

Set in motion each has sired
Rapture ruptured and set on fire
Sex and venues races and structures
Religion fashion form and culture

Love is all we have to give
Trust takes more than getting used to
Love is all I’ve left to give
I’ll take more than getting used to

Hungering for blessed mercies
Needful things devour the proceeds
Restraining love from withholding
Diligent disorders from building
Flourishing at best in turmoil
They backlash with a wicked recoil
Hallowed though are these
In this house are needful things

performance:

jason harvey: bass guitar

david beck: drums

mohadev bhattacharyya: guitar

jon beal: keyboards | voice

composition/production:

jon beal: composition | recording

david beck: composition

mohadev bhattacharyya: composition | recording

jason harvey: composition | mixing | production | recording

extra performance:

dennis harvey: noises

extra composition/production:

dennis harvey: mastering | mixing

performance:

jason harvey: bass guitar

michael ambro: guitar

paul ambro: guitar

dennis harvey: keyboards | noises

composition/production:

michael ambro: composition

paul ambro: composition

jason harvey: composition

dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording

notes:

... As we rounded the corner near the source of the commotion, a beat-up sedan whizzed by and smashed into the side of a building, leaving a giant, unexpectedly dank hole like an open wound in the red brick. I stared, shaken, but then looked around and realized the streets were swarming with... beings. I couldn't explain it. Short, stunted halflings with furry feet; tall, slender, haughty-looking jerks with pointed ears and hair like streaming gold; round, bearded, smelly guys who looked like small, two-legged wooly mammoths covered in armor. They were all drunk, weaving about, singing songs, being sick in the street. What the hell was happening? I watched the insane scene for a few moments before seeing it: the chalupa, Rastanefarious' chalupa, lying there on the street right where I left it, a shimmering portal extending out of it from which these bonkers fantasy creatures emerged. It was the chalupa vortex, left open for refugees from another world, travelers fresh off the chalupa boat. I smashed a fist into my other hand, furious. Had this been Rastanefarious' plan all along, and I'd just been the key to open the door?

I looked back at the beat-up sedan. The driver was nowhere to be found, and the hole in the brick building seemed to extend inside forever. This had been no coincidence - on the crumbling brick next to the dank hole was a battered sign: "MMM, D.D.S. (appts. only)". Without even thinking, without trying to analyze how I'd missed this telltale sign that night with the chalupa, I jumped into the still-running sedan and punched the gas, straight into the darkness. Blue Moon played from tinny speakers as I plunged through the sudden night, anger and determination overcoming any rationality. ...

performance:

jason harvey: bass guitar

omran shafique: guitar

jon beal: keyboards | voice

dennis harvey: drums | keyboards | noises

composition/production:

jon beal: composition

jason harvey: composition

omran shafique: composition

dennis harvey: composition