by clickers

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doug harry - guitars / vocals
mike gintz - guitars / vocals / keyboards
ross farley - bass
matt rogers - drums / vocals

hpr001 was recorded in december 2004-january 2005 in the living room of april fog in cambridge, massachusetts by farhad ebrahimi. it was mixed by farhad and clickers, and mastered by scott craggs. all music and lyrics were written by clickers. the artwork was designed by daniel espeset. hpr001 was released in a run of 500 copies on 12" black vinyl with a CDR included in each sleeve, by honeypump records.


released May 15, 2005

recorded by farhad ebrahimi
mixed by farhad ebrahimi and clickers
mastered by scott craggs
artwork by daniel espeset
all songs written and performed by clickers




clickers Boston, Massachusetts

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Track Name: proverbs for paranoids 3
they've got the scientists on short tethers. by all signs, the paper trail's gone cold, if it ever showed. enlist the psychics, they'd know better than to get fooled by broken code. raise your right hand, swear-in a national displacement. kiss-off the past, they've erased it whole... or will we ever know? i let it slide a little, i let it slide a little bit more until i've lost control. invest your cash in complacence. lock all your facts in a box in the basement. if i sigh a little, if i sigh a little bit more, that's just my regret. we've let foundations be set in. we've had relations with media snow. there's a consequence: they'll just keep building until we've been overwhelmed by the architecture and the architect. sometimes i wish we could trust like our grandparents did when they were kids. this is urban myth: “outside they’ve got no heads, run round with panic” when i’m just as scared, thinking about the history we don’t see. consensus, statistics, crash right down on their heads; drowned out by static from all undeclared. 100 million wait and see silently. it’s a little wrecked, and illegitimate. you should have seen it, the cityscape looked ominous. it raised my hair that this is the place we call home. if they can get you asking wrong questions then they don't have to worry about answers.
Track Name: don't laugh at me (but sometimes i feel like a vessel)
these words, fit for the floor. out, i said. these forms, fit for the door. out, i said. i'm locked out, i said. well said, well formed, these thoughts... these words get torn out. when the pen leaked out, you could say i lucked out babe. never in my life could i have planned for this. when these things spring forth from the mouth of an unmanned mind, oh how can you tear apart this? well said, well formed; these thoughts turn to stone. you wanna talk, you wanna talk, well we can talk about it. you wanna speak, well we can speak, yeah we can speak upon it. but i’m deaf, i’m dumb, i’m blind and all that. these ideas are full of holes. oh god, they seem so alone. where did they go?
Track Name: vs. the cooling of the universe
no guarantees of eternal heat, but there’s a reason we move like this. each day we subtract a little bit. gone in degrees. it takes some time, but there’s a reason to get the physics textbooks out. yeah, we’re turning down. we rearrange and we dissipate, it’s easy to freeze in a state like this. there are ways to fall back a little bit. each time we move against each other, the same result: temporarily friction is heating us up. i’m amazed! then there’s the erosion… let’s make some phone calls! aw, you wear me out. give me a call if you want to go through with this, i’ve been up checking the readouts trying to disprove this. give me a call if you think that you’re through with us. give me a call, we’ll pretend that we’re new at this. give me a second and i’ll try to walk you through: hot flash, coming in, coming over my skin. how will it end? hot flash, coming in, coming over my skin. they try to take it back, right, right! once you’re pulled apart you can’t go back. we want control, yeah, we don’t wanna let it go. yeah, we just want control, but you can’t go back. we’re not gonna get it. feel the heat, feel the heat, feel the heat, feel the heat feel the heat between me and you slip away. we’re heading for the cool-down. not ready for the cool-down.
Track Name: ...and put away wet
feels like disgrace, put in your place. down in your guts, push for the show, they act like they know. cracks on my face, thrown from the race (the youth is drained; the youth is bled): this mare is broke. push for the show, they act like they know. i’m sifting, i’m waiting, i’m crumbling out. i fell for, i’m fasting through this drought. i look for what love is, i look for... but it don’t live here no more. there’s something in my eyes, but with your gift i feel my size. and you’re calling upon me, and you’re falling onto me. but when all this youngness fades, and you regret the choice you made, will the sun fall down on me? will it feel like tragedy? calm? safe? no way.