twenty​-​six songs in twenty​-​sixteen

by Superdose Gangway

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about

Twenty-Six Songs in Twenty Sixteen is a collection of music written and performed by Superdose Gangway which was incrementally released across the year 2016. Each track title begins with the subsequent letter of the alphabet, this feature ultimately dictated the choice to produce 26 songs.

This album became the basis for the bands follow up release Monsoon Season in which they collected their favourite tracks from Twenty Six Songs in Twenty Sixteen and re-released them with a higher attention to detail of the production values.

credits

released January 1, 2016

Superdose Gangway is:
Max Tulysewski - vocals, tenor guitar, keyboards
Liam Gare - vocals, guitar
Ned Heggart - bass
Craig Burns - drums

'twenty-six songs in twenty-sixteen' was recorded and mixed in Max's bedroom.

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about

Superdose Gangway Adelaide, Australia

Happy and sad songs about people, places and things. Caution: may contain vocals, guitars, bass and drums. Please enjoy responsibly.

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Track Name: Armour & Warpaint
As we sat in a booth in the back of a bar, you played with the ashtray and I stirred my drink. You always said that we should have no secrets. But, I'm all hazelnut and pale pink. Baby I know that we don't have much money. I'm not asking for much, I just wanna feel safe in my armour when I leave the house. You have no idea what it's like to be a girl in this town. And you heard about Claire and the South West Suburbs. I heard her scream when that man attacked her. Tell me, where's the justice in a world that's built on victims, blamed for their makeup. Warpaint's not an addiction, it's liberation and it's freedom. But, beauty's not a system for measuring the worth of an existence. It's warpaint.
Track Name: Bury My Body, Let It Grow Anew
Desolate and lonely, you are my only source of light. Patterns once plaid are slowly, are now slowly turning white. I’m trying to get out of bed but it’s the last safe place left to feel devoid and bereft. My garden is wilting away, how the flowers lay unkempt as I’m sheltered and exempt from the rain, as we both decay. Stop and smell the flowers while they’re in bloom. I could spend hours sitting stationary in my room. I’m caught just existing, I talk and no one’s listening. I feel I lack a reason not to hibernate through harsh seasons. You’re there to help when I fall. I’m not saying things are perfect, they’re just better below the surface. I can’t find a point to it all, which means I get to choose my purpose, deliberate if things are worth it at all. Amongst the flowers where the weeds once grew, I will bury my body and let it grow anew. I’ll plant my corpse in the earth as a seed and amongst the flowers there will sprout a tree.
Track Name: Call Me Anything You Need
I’m sick of these politics, character assassination. You’re a goddamn hypocrite, can’t look me in the eye. I think you’re full of shit, so does everyone across the nation. This is just so typical, go run away and hide. Call a spade a fucking spade, but say it to my face. Call me anything you need. You know what, can I say something? Just give it a rest, you’re not so great, you lying scumbag. How’d you ever expect to win my heart back with a fumble of words and an awkward silence? I don’t see you anymore; I just see my wasted time.
Track Name: Did You Know I Have a Massive Crush on You?
I don’t know how to say this but I have got a deep and secret longing to hug you so hard that you’re crushed in my arms and your heart will explode and my clothes will be soaked. Did you know I have a massive crush on you? I thought I hid it so well, I guess not. Guess what! Did you know I have a massive crush on you? I don’t know if you mean to but you have got me stuck between the indestructible, unstoppable jaws of the Vise-Grip® of your crushing hold on me. Did you know I have a massive crush on you? I’ll bet you have better things to do than to hear me tell you “did you know I have a massive crush on you?“ Infatuated, I’m crushed diamond. If you want me, you can have me. Did you know I have a massive crush on you?
Track Name: Everything's Coming Up Sidedown
We sat on the curb throwing rocks into the street. Our words were caught by the breeze. You asked if I was truly happy. I paused but for a moment, my silence answered for me. Maybe we should sit and talk for a while. I just want to see you smiling. I can't ignore it, I can't pretend. I do adore you so I'll make amends. I can't ignore it, I won't pretend. I need your love so I'll write it on the back of your hand, so you won't forget. You asked for me to speak my mind, I guess it's time to face reality. I said to you that you're nice but I'm fine. But, we all know what fine really means. Maybe we should just sit here for a while. I know I lack elation, however, I can't help but smile. Maybe I could feel better if I tried. I once received an accolade on the day that my dog died. I ran off and cried.
Track Name: For Shame!
Out of ten, I give seven and a half to my lacklustre love life. There’s nothing here for me that I can’t download online for free. You never should have come here, you’re a fire that I can’t start. You needed time to let your skin take back your scars. I’m a cannonball, smashing straight through your wall. I'll leave a gaping hole in your heart and you’ll never fill it in at all. I’m out of control, shattering your windows and doors. All my friends have left the party, gone home with their civil partners. I’m a crossword you completed; I’m a manual you don’t need. I’m sorry I left you deserted. I realise that I’m not worth it. I deserved it.
Track Name: Gospel
I don’t want to leave for this strange place that we visit once a week. I just watch the trees from the back seat as they sway freely in the breeze. I ponder dark thoughts in this enlightened room where my feet barely reach the floor. I look at the clock and meet the gaze of a man who I've heard say these words before. I can't forgive you for messing with these thoughts inside my head, it's Easter morning and I'm searching for the meaning of life instead of Easter eggs. Mouthing words to this empty verse, while I keep my fingers crossed, reading from the book with its front embossed. I know that you mean well but you can’t do this for yourself. I hope that you can’t see the façade that’s enshrouded me, and that I don’t believe. I wished I could believe.
Track Name: His Bed is a Conveyor Belt, Mine is a Race Car
I’m lying awake in my race car bed. I used to dream of greatness, now I’m sleeping off the meds. I’m not a picture of success, I’m a goddamn mess. Maybe I could be your warning, a victim of excess. I’m a picture frame: utilitarian, I’m a hurricane: temporary. He’s no protagonist, you’re just a masochist. Your life is a b-grade screenplay.
Track Name: I'm Really Sorry, Please Just Reply
You don't need me, why am I wasting my time? You don't see me, I'm going crazy, I've gone insane, you're not mine. You don't need me, I would hold you back. You can't see the way you make me fucking insane. I'm not fine and you're lucky that you don't know all the thoughts that I've got running through my mind. I swear you'd run away and hide, I'd never hear from you again, I'd probably lose you as a friend. But, you don't need this. I'd be a waste of your time. But, I'm in love. I know it sucks, this is fucked. I'm really sorry, please just reply.
Track Name: Journal
I found your journal at the bottom of a box marked 'keepsakes'. The date on the front was my birthday. I hope you don't mind but I flipped through the pages, faded photos of you and my father at home in the suburbs with me in a stroller; detailed descriptions of pregnancy issues and memories of kissing my head while I slept. I hope I can make the most of this flesh and bones that you gave to me. I spent this morning homesick. Drowning in melancholy, I got nostalgic. I really miss your hugs and your unconditional love. I wish I had been as wise as I am now when I was five years old. I would have told you thank you for everything you did for me. i hope I can make the most of this flesh and bones that you gave to me. I'm going to be more than you ever hoped for me.
Track Name: Kitten Kong
Curl up on the floor, because I’ve circled this room a thousand times before and the dust has been settled the same way now for months. These stripes on my tail, the bars of a prison cell. I chitter and I yowl. I am the cornsilk lion. I am an ocean of fire and iron. Don’t keep me confined. I swear I’m not afraid. I’m not insane. I’m not losing my mind. I wanna go outside. I still remember a distant engine, the smell of petrol and your cold paws. As I sat by the side of the road, I wished we’d never explored. I am the cornsilk lion. I am the king of pretending I’m fine. I will cherish the family that remains, and hope, for now, that it stays the same. Black cat, bad luck.
Track Name: Loss of Autumn, Joy of Spring
Tangled leads and broken strings, just excuses made for a lack of writings. Utensils used have gone missing. Pens and pencils, our only findings. They say "break a leg", but these days we're stuck breaking bread, Breaking Bad, getting baked in bed, avoiding our mistakes instead. Waste our time away procrastinating. Days in bed spent waiting for an open door because I've closed more than I ever have before. Going nowhere, showing no care for how I'll get there. And, so, I grew an apple tree in the middle of my living room. It's roots stuck in concrete, but its flowers will still bloom. An apple a day keep the demons at bay. These Winter months grew colder by the day. But, it's dying and it will be gone soon. I'm trying to avoid the monsoon. Time wasting, I'm failing. The roof of my head is caving in over my head I'm flailing my arms as said are waving. For the tide is so frustrating, preventing me from escaping and my back is aching and I'm drowning as I'm waiting for the chance a wave may bring me safe to shore. No remorse, hard work is its own reward but I expect full payment, of course. I take what I can afford, cause I get bored, I can't handle being ignored, it shows my floors, glass windows and wooden doors. Apple falls and plants the seed. By our feet sprouts the sapling. Loss of Autumn but the joy of Spring as the tree begins blossoming. I know that it rains before it snows, and I know that the sun is sure to show. And, so, I grew an apple tree in the middle of my living room. It consumes all of me but it fills this house with gloom. I'm dying and I will be gone soon.
Track Name: Me in the Rain, You on a Train
The land abounds in rainy afternoons, grey skies loom. I'm sitting at the terminal, I hope you'll be here soon. I've got three weapons, not one is a gun: a slingshot, bottle rocket and a sense of fun. You're an apathetic twenty-something, you'll march across the picket line. You're pathetic, show me something that I can get behind. Nihilistic, so fantastic, I'm disgusted and fatalistic. I wish I wasn't. I'm a blind, deaf dumpster of patience. You and your defeatist thoughts and snide retorts about how things should stay as before are so dearly misinformed. I think that you’re selfish if you don’t get involved. Forget what you're told, break from the mould, a resigned outlook means nothing at all. "I'm just fucking jaded, it's too complicated". I hate your excuses, you’re selfish and lazy. I’d like to believe that we’re bankrupt but I'm not naive, you're just corrupt.
Track Name: Now You've Grown out of Me (I Hope I'm Not a Bad Memory)
In the car lacking conversation, you wrote our names in the condensation. Maybe we should sit and talk for a while. I just want to see you smiling. You're looking for something more. I've given you all I can afford. The key's in the ignition and you've locked the doors. I held you and we swayed to Where is My Mind in the kitchen of a party in mid-July. Later, I was surprised to find that my t-shirt had a wet shoulder from where you'd been crying. Avoiding my eyes to hide your pupils as they shrink, but battered eyelids are hard to blink. (I was your illness but you found a cure, I'll pretend that's exactly what I hoped for.) I realise, now, that I can't live without the side you've shown that no one knows. Now you've grown out of me, I hope I'm not a bad memory.
Track Name: Opened up a Page to Read
I opened up a page to read but these words lack familiarity. Written in your diary are words that you don’t speak. Amidst the harsh lines there was a certain phrase, one that trailed off the page, compelling me to read on to the next day. Secrets and inhibitions (the lack of trust is evident) show our inner politicians (seemingly malevolent) and illustrate the juxtaposition (only when deemed relevant) of our different dispositions (perceived to be prevalent). I park my car in your driveway and then I ask for your spare change. I wear your clothes to compensate for all of those times I made you wait, because I am always late. You’ve outgrown me. Now, I’m only someone to call when you’re feeling lonely. I tear the page out. We rarely scream or shout, which makes the quiet seem loud. And, now our motives have changed. Memories that we've exchanged will never be the same. I leave my shoes on your front porch, knock on your window as you answer the door.
Track Name: People Person
I am a liar, I am a cheat. I am violent so don’t come near me. I stole your heart and all of its dreams under the guise of art and the hopes of peace. Some call me pious, others a miscreant. They may be biased but I don’t care what they think. Run away, I am a deviant. Save yourself from pain and mistreatment. I’m at your home throwing stones through your window. I follow you when you’re on your own. We are alone. As you run out back, I’ll shoot you in the leg. Consider it luck the bullet missed your head. Come back out front because that’s common sense. You’ll blame yourself, accept the consequence. A bruised lip and a battered cheek means you’ll hide at home for another week. Don’t go to work and let people see that you misbehaved in front of me. This is madness, it’s a habit you’ll find. I inhabit your mind, spreading poison in time. You need sadness I think you’ll find. You cant sustain euphoria all the time. I confess that I notice when you're not around, but I live my life under threat. I’m not upset despite that you beat me down just to keep me in check. You thrive off ideologies that frankly I cannot see. But I don’t know if you’re friend or foe. I know that I’m in your debt. You thrive off ideologies that frankly I do not believe. I am scared what might happen if I leave. And you wrote to me to ask me to leave. You would beg and plead. Bargaining would only bring unpleasant things. Arguing just strengthens me. You’ll never be free. I’ve been designed to deceive, but I wont let you dictate me. I serve a purpose, you think I’m worthless, ignore me if you think it will hurt less. Prevent me from ruin and I’ll keep you human. A reward for a service. So why am I nervous?
Track Name: Quixote
Tilting at windmills, wilting. Kicking an anthill, killing. Slowly decomposing landfill. I'm on a plane evading sleep in neither the aisle or window seats. These thoughts lack words. Homesickness hurts but being bored is worse. I was totally nervous to go to Japan. My words never land standing upright. Despite everything I've seen, I wish I could believe. I'm sick of sleeping on airport floors, aimlessly wandering through airport stores. Everyone I see enjoys this more than me. But, I don't think I can perceive that this happening. Maybe I don't believe that this is more than it seems. Why don't I feel differently?
Track Name: Romance O.N.O.
Fawning, burning, crawling, yearning, falling: a greenhorn learning. Bread and water, bricks and mortar. Quicksand. Martyr. I built you this home complete with Stockholm Syndrome. You're a word that I can't spell with a meaning I don't know. I'm Deborah Bradshaw walking house to house with handicrafts, in Idaho, speaking in monotone. It's so obvious, I can't believe that you don't see. All I've ever wanted is to exist inside your brain. Romance or nearest offer, just know my fucking name.
Track Name: Sunday Machines
Son, get out of bed. I know it's Sunday morning but I need your help. Get up and get dressed. Son, you know what time it is: it's time to get to work. I'll meet you in the shed, we'll fire it up. Every Sunday, in suburbia, the whirring of the Sunday Machines woke us up and welcomed us to the morning. All the fathers and their sons and all their Sunday Machines turned their boys into men every Sunday. Son, get your head straight: it's time to get to work. I know you'll be great, one day you'll rule the world.
Track Name: Tetley (feat. Keehan Roberts)
I saw you on the news. I guess fame shadows tragedy. I feel like I knew you. A better man than I could be. The sun this March won't let sky turn grey. Why are you so far away? So tell me your hopes and your dreams, your darkest secrets, your little white lies you told just to keep them. I find it hard to cry. I'm not scared of dying. I'm just sitting here in this empty high school gym thinking about things I can't control.
Track Name: Wagon (feat. Louis Donnarumma)
You said you were sorry. I would accept no apology. But, you seemed worried. You said you were going to stop. I said I was glad, I'd help in anyway I can. When you got on the wagon, that's when your life began. I hope that you know I'm flawed too. I hope that you know I love you. I promise I'll never ask you to drive me home. Unless you offer, in which case "thank you". This is forever. Good luck, I know it's hard. Try not to feel lonely, please don't feel forsaken. For all those we have lost, habits formed, never stopped. All these paths they have crossed. Those who've changed and who have not. Fading fast to drunken desperation. Pleading soft and slow. Inky lines of shame upon your face, and pain I'll never know.
Track Name: X-ACTO No. 2 (feat. Levi Cooper of Raccoon City)
Isolated by our own world view with our nations split in two, forget the empathy that we once knew. Divided by opinions that we hold. Blindly accept what’ve been told, don’t question that perhaps it’s false. Pick a party, either left or right and hate who’s on the other side. Just leave and let this place ignite. Rise and defeat. Lies and deceit. Supply our news feeds with biased facts and mean tweets. Now you’ve sown the seeds to embrace corporate greed that led to this left/right dichotomy. This evil feedback and white noise attack drowns out all reason, this street's a cul de sac. I don’t believe that we’re bankrupt. I’m not naïve, you’re just corrupt. Don’t try and deny consensus and facts, just put in place a fucking carbon tax. We're trying to heal our wounds with an X-ACTO No. 2. I’m just a statistical victim, a cog in the machine, but it’s a cyclical system, just rinse and repeat.
Track Name: Year in Review
In the car lacking conversation, you wrote our names in the condensation. Knock on your window as you answer the door. Your so dearly misinformed. I’m at your home throwing stones through your window. I built you this home complete with Stockholm Syndrome. I’ll bet you have better things to do than to hear me tell you I wanna go outside. In suburbia, the whirring of the Sunday Machines, bargaining would only bring unpleasant things. Arguing just strengthens me. The Loss of Autumn but the joy of Spring as the tree begins blossoming. You’ve outgrown me. Now, I’m only someone to call when you’re feeling lonely. I ponder dark thoughts in this enlightened room. I hope that you know I'm flawed too. My garden is wilting away, how the flowers lay unkempt. now I’m sleeping off the meds. You thrive off ideologies that frankly I do not believe. Now you've grown out of me, I hope I'm not a bad memory. I’d like to believe that we’re bankrupt, but I'm not naive, you're just corrupt. Amongst the flowers where the weeds once grew, I will bury my body and let it grow anew. I’m just a statistical victim, a cog in the machine, but it’s a cyclical system, just rinse and repeat. Tilting at windmills, wilting. Kicking an anthill, killing. I just see my wasted time. Maybe we should sit and talk for a while. I just want to see you smiling. I'm really sorry, please just reply.
Track Name: Zeal: Every December
A Christmas tradition of waiting rooms and surgery, some sick self-appointed ritual of injury. Skateboard-related stains of bloody bitumen, broken bones from failed attempts at climbing trees. While you tried to deny the divorce. Your subconscious kept track of the score. I heard your mother say that you'd done this every year ever since '88 when you first moved here, I guess you got home sick, your parents split and your whole world fell apart. I guess you needed a fresh start. They're trying, but they can't get to sleep, a warm glow radiates from the tree. Now, every year on December 25th, you built a new ritual for you and your kids. I heard your wife say that you'd done this every year ever since '08 when you last lived here, I guess you'd just had kids and you wanted them to live in a home where mum and dad still kiss. You and your demons made this. Every December you try to remember where you came from and how you got here. You were a sad and lonely kid, now you're a father and a great one, and you get better every year.