S​/​T

by Block Fort

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about

We are Block Fort, we like caffeine and living vicariously through other people's pets. This EP was recorded after only three full-band practices with the mighty Andrew Gunn at Pete's Dad's lovely house.


The lo-fi video for Quit Your Job Pt.2 can be watched here:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6MTTPTPMPM
Feat. us, our friends, Milo the dog and maximum dental hygiene.

credits

released September 26, 2013

Big big thanks to everyone that helped us put this together! Particularly Lucy Wright, DHC Drums, Gunny the crazy sound master, Milo the Dog, Pete's Dad and his lovely garden, Liam's Dad's Bike, Akbar the ever suffering car, Ian at Aaahh Real Records! for being a boss, Stuart 'Sweep' Sim's fine body and finally: Baz the Dawg for always being our inspiration. And tea.

Extra huge thanks to DIY champion Ash Victim who did the very first recordings of Block Fort ever with a microphone he made out of a coffee can. You can listen to those initial off-key warblings on Liam's Soundcloud if you so wish.
soundcloud.com/liam-pritchett/sets/coffee-can-demos-13

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about

Block Fort Norwich, UK

Nerdy DIY pop punk un-supergroup from Norwich, serial cat botherers and expert tea/ coffee drinkers.

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Track Name: Quit Your Job pt.2
This week I’ve cycled fifty-odd miles on my Dad’s old bike/
With his bag patched and hanging on my back/
And I forget why I’m here with the wind/
And the sounds of the traffic in my ears/

It always makes me believe/
In naïve sincerity and all the things dear to me/
I guess fifty miles isn’t that far/
But it’s far enough/

Now the wind is rushing in my ears/
And the rain is running in my eyes/
And I don’t want to die/
On my way to some dead end nine-to-five/

‘Cause of some worthless fucking driver/
In his 4x4, who doesn’t care if he takes/
Someone’s life/
As long as he saves a few minutes of his time/

And if it happens I don’t know what I’d have my last words be/
But I’m oh so fucking sorry that I wasted every second that I did/
On a job I always hated/

And if it happens I just hope it happens on/
My way home; while I’m singing at the top of my lungs/
I hope it happens when I mean every word/
And if I live until tomorrow/
I’m gonna quit my job/
Track Name: Recounted Conversations
Looking back she said it’d been a bad day/
And "I am permanently in search of heartbreak/
But not how you think; I like songs recounting/
Half remembered conversations/
Thoughts shared with long forgotten lovers/
I don’t think they were really better times"/

So I said I can’t help but write songs about myself and I’m sick of it/
It’s just I don’t want to presume to know how someone else feels or thinks/
And all I know is a vague sense of unease in my own skin/
Which makes for a lot of awkwardness in situations like these/

"From the first chord I feel my hear beat faster/
An involuntary reaction to the sound of/
Rust corrosion, ancient pickups anxious shuffled feet/
This is what I exist for; this is everything/"

So I said I can’t help but write songs about myself and I’m sick of it/
It’s just I don’t want to presume to know how someone else feels or thinks/
And all I know is a vague sense of unease in my own skin/
Which makes for a lot of awkwardness in situations like these/
Track Name: The Half Empty
I’ve felt conflicted and a lack of conviction/
I’d quit drinking but the beer makes me brave/
Here’s the half empty/
I’m always wrapped in thought my stomach tied in knots/

Forever trapped in a general sense of anxiety/
Feeling reckless and unlucky/
I can’t stop dwelling on tiny moments in my life/
In which I decide this feels momentous yeah this is momentous like/


Even if we never speak again/
I’ll always remember the day we started talking/
As the day that I realised/
That it’s all in my head, it’s all in my head it’s all in my head/


This is how it is and that was how it was/
And no amount of wishing will change anything/
But the sharp pain of a fresh tattoo/
Can give way to something new/

To mark each memory and mourn the moments past
And still move on/
But it doesn’t always help and I think that I shouldn’t be allowed/
To open my mouth/


Because it never comes out how I wanted it to sound/
And if I’m lucky I’ll get one or two songs I don’t hate out of this/
Right fucking mess/
That I have made, out of something that could have been so good/


Even if we never speak again/
I’ll always remember the day we started talking/
As the day that I realised/
That it’s all in my head, it’s all in my head it’s all in my head/