Everything That is Going to Kill You is Extremely Appetizing

by Tommy Stromboli

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02:49
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about

Tommy made this album (most of it) in 2013. He was sad about stuff. So he pulled out his dusty ukulele and guitar and wrote some songs about sadness, recording them with iPhone Voice Memos and then fucking them to shit in Audacity. Tommy's friends have said his music sounds a little like early Smog, and his vocals like Roy Orbison and Kurt Cobain. These people were clearly high and giggled much when these words were said.

Tommy is still sad. Oh so very sad.

Anyways, he dubs this "drone pop", whatever that means. He told me it's supposed to make you feel tired and sleazy. If nothing else, he hopes you've never heard ukulele sound this un-cheery.

credits

released February 22, 2016

Credits:

Tommy Stromboli did all of it. Whatever it is, he did it.

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about

Some Weird Sin Records Spring, Texas

This label is run by that one guy that hosts that one show on that one station. We put out RAWK records and tapes mostly, but also miscellaneous dumb shit.

Give me money so I can eat and press more music.

contact / help

Contact Some Weird Sin Records

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Track Name: God Started
This city smells sour and rancid
What word in the world really rhymes with rancid?
I suppose I'll have to throw a slant in
A spooned crook with a tumorous Cancer

A crab-cake-walked up an avenue border
Was eaten by a tourist who possessed his daughter
He washed the thing down with some sweet saltwater
'Til the ocean dried up, that's how
God started

God wants his word sold at Barnes & Noble
Leather bound, burns bright and bolder
The big man's book's been a big best-seller
Dad, it's so good, you should write another

A widow had dinner with her married friend, Jocelyn
She was well acquainted with her husband, Martin
The spread was simply stunnin', but the liver was poisoned
Jocelyn took a long nap, and we all
Got smarter

This city smells sour and rancid
Track Name: Hymen
Drip drop goes the rain
On the windowpane
Your hymen tore today
Your boyfriend ain't to blame

Burying yourself won't make it go away

Hip hop go the rabbits
In the field today
They're lookin' for carrots/karats just like you
But the tortoise won the race

Marrying in stealth won't make it okay

Drip drop goes the rain
On the windowpane
Your heart got broke today
Your boyfriend ain't to blame
Track Name: Steamin' Milk Mess
I don't wanna play
The Gold Soundz
Salt of the earth,
the boring old grounds
I only have the
best intentions
The kind that Steamin' Milk Mess
mentions

Texas Never Whispers
and the Range Life's
where it's at
So I'll shout to keep you
Just as long as
You shout back
I was dressed for success
Summer Babe, but success
It never came
I loved you long,
and I loved you true, but
You can't say the same

I don't wanna
be on the
Stereo
I want you
At a
private show
I'm of simple
conventions
The kind that
Steamin' Milk Mess
mentions