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The Exitus and Reditus of Andrew Darkstar Parrish

by Dear Other

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thrsdy
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thrsdy This album is a great piece of art. Favorite track: The Emperor of Ice Cream.
Spirit You All
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Spirit You All ".. Indie rock has a special knack for inflating personal crises into general apocalypses, but this debut from Ohio six-piece Dear Other flips enough of those genre conventions on their head to work both as a promising foretaste of a talented band and a pleasure in its own right..." Favorite track: The Shadow Cast.
Mark Kaschak
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Mark Kaschak The most cohesive work I've heard in a long motherfreaking time. It makes me weep for Steubenville, OH. Poetic, unique, digestible, thought-provoking GOLD.

Dreams. Favorite track: The Shadow Cast.
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1.
Exitus 02:57
ANDREW: I have no memory of starting, I have no knowledge of my end, my birth I heard from my mother's word, my death I learnt from dead friends. Oh, were I raised by wolves or made by science of unethical stripes to not once think the thought that once I was not nor know it's my lot to say goodbye. 'Cause I shudder like a limb laid on a live wire, not from fear of birth or death but of their mutual child, 'cause if I come stamped with 'The End' and 'Once Upon a Time' then in-between the two I've got to choose a life. So I moved to a city on the eve of Eschaton, post-industrial to judge the drugs and dust her throat caught on, and summing up the Spirit thrilling in her breast and mine I cried, "I'll try and be the kind of creature that you like!" I subsequently shattered like a wave upon the dock or a crucifix of plaster catching atheistic rocks. My mother made a unity of me, body and soul, but it's thirty-four or more I heap at her when I come home. So I'm smashing window-glass to let a little light inflame into a single shine my dark mosaic mind. I'll fall in love with anyone who, lifted like the sun, promises to draw all things in me into one.
2.
ANDREW: I miss you. I'm not talkin' 'bout havin' the blues. I'm talkin' 'bout havin' my heart chewed up and spit out. I miss you. It's not melancholy, this is a hole that I burnt in the floor of my apartment kitchen while my neighbors are lookin' in and they're singin': NEIGHBORS: Boy you've got to get yourself over her! ANDREW: What her? Did she come over? Did she leave a message? NEIGHBORS: Boy you've got to learn some self-control! ANDREW: Ooh, I'm doing fine. I miss you and no sonnet will do to describe the pain that's inside as my stomach's thumb-tacked to my spine twisted round, double-helix, oh I feel it, my feelings are dope my heart's the dealer the latter got busted the former he gets shot down. NEIGHBORS: You'll be alright, you'll be alright, hop up off the floor boy, you'll be alright! ANDREW: I'm freakin out on my bathroom-- anybody have an aspirin for my passions? They've got no relation towards my rationality. I'm a leaf in the wind of the principalities-- alright, it's principally me responsible for being not one, not two, but three. NEIGHBORS: Woah, have you ever seen a man so low? Can you make what's broken whole? ANDREW: Ooh I dunno, but I sure hope so. NEIGHBORS: Woah, have you ever seen a man so low? Can you make what's broken whole?
3.
ANDREW: I cannot talk to girls 'cause each of them is a world a life to live, possible horizon. I could be your paramour, or I could be family rising. Every kiss every touch costs other lips, other loves. Blessed is he, full of hope who gives up space, gives up roads for walls and doors, blood and bones, he has a home, and his home is called Rising. What of us, looking up, who see the stars, every one, as destinies we could choose, but choice is death, so we end up choosing nothing at all? REASON: Woah, stop the press, I love you but you talk too much. Think about your neighbors they've got work in the morning and they've probably had enough of your all-containing sigh: "Oh me, oh my, oh why!" Just pick a life and die. ANDREW: Oh take the keys, Sweet Reason, leave, for the festering forest of other living things is an oxygen-thief, I cannot breathe nor tax photosynthesis. Oh God are you still into us? I wouldn't be. Having fathered-forth a universe of possibilities and palm-trees to have to see the weight with which we worship our college degrees. "You can be what you wanna be!" screamed the cartoon I saw when I was three. It's made a cartoon out of me: Watch me panic over reruns. If I could approximate to manliness at least to the degree with which my forefathers imagined it I would kiss the blistered feet the lips of every inhabitant of Rust Belt Ohio and like an emergency baptism I'd sprint to every accident: I the Junior Jesuit you the Bitter Landscape in the flavor of the Sacrament, but oh God the sacrilege to posture as an offered gift to call my all what worldly wits insist is split in fourths and fifths. They don't teach you this in high-school. REASON: Woah, squeeze my hand and show me how much it hurts. Still, I don't think your problems are cosmic or God-sent. Have you eaten lunch yet? It helps. I'll love you till you die. I don't care if you don't find this thing they call a life.
4.
ANDREW: I'm cleaning my room and ordering my shoes (I'm doing it for you) from red to black to blue. I'm waking up before the dawn and falling on my knees in a room that's oh-so-clean. (Now do the dishes, son.) I'm washing the forks and the floor 'cause I can't scrub my soul though the bleach bore to my bone it won't reach the catacombs where I buried all my virgins and my saints. So don't let me back in 'til I can be your friend the most singular of men who is what he seems and seems what he is. I'm gettin' my affairs in order. I've got guards round all the borders and a jar of laundry quarters and corpses in the courtyard to scare the child in me, the one with A.D.D., who's only seventeen and seen some things no grown man should see. Brother, have you ever felt like three-in-one? The one that did, the one that does, the one that shouldn't have done? And if so, have you found a manual for becoming whole? Can you read it slow? Fearing death, disease I touch, I taste the light and sneeze my flesh on fire, fever fixing burning brows to burning bushes. There's some demons grown men groan to see, believe the bright-red blisters fickle-feet are forming warming on the ground that shifting. Sifted through my room and found a box of Yuengling, toasted life and now I'm singing, knee-deep in the froath and the foam I am exposed to every gorgeous gull pecking out my cliff-face soul into a coffin for their offspring singing: "Wisdom is not to know." NEIGHBORS: Boy, get up! ANDREW: What? N: We think you had a heart-attack! A: Impossible, see, I was just, uh- N: How many fingers are we holding up? A: [pause] Three? N: Four! Can't you kids keep away from drugs? A: [taking offense] I was just dreaming! N: [skeptical] Mhm. A: Or possibly the subject of a vision, or a Marian apparition! N: Sounds like drugs. A: Well it's my condition. But I swear I saw Heaven open up! And furthermore- N: We've heard this one before, the one where your eyes see the glory of the coming of the Lord. Enter God. Exit God. A: Yep, that was it. In incomparable cool he sits on ideal geometric shapes and into the ground he spits fire, healing water, blood, the love and life of a Father- N: [interrupting] Look, have you got some place to be? A: And he said to me- BOTH: Son! N: We've got things to do besides listen to you. A: I am your judge, N: the one that you ignore A: present in the present N: and at the end of the world. A: How'd you guys know? N: We've got a lot in common us and the Lord equally abused equally ignored making minimum wage at the grocery store watching you live one life while you pretend your living more. BOTH: Oh.
5.
ANDREW: Death purchased property in my arteries on Fourth Street at the corner of head and heart. Death bought a gift-shop there selling skeleton dresses to the skulking, scheming, scared and unbelieving girls around the park. Business got bad, Mondays got sad. He told Mom and Dad he's coming home. Oh, business went south, these people don't look down they look about and I've torn out their tongues but I can't tear out their hopeful sounds. Death got his I.D. made at a border state, bored and weary, he said: "Ohio you can burn in hell." So I rose, a rising rose, and marveled at my body my apartment, my city -- oh the glory! We are one, come, ring the bells! The wave, the plaster split, the million men, the crucifix, I'm all of them, come exorcist, my legion longs for a final fix, and finally found, if hope can find, in other lips and other eyes to whom I'm a whole, a body, a soul, a single life that lives and dies. Oh how high this highest candle lights the dark! Being here with you, it is enough, my lack is everything to eyes long-lit with love. NEIGHBORS: Boy you've got to get yourself some self-control Boy you've got to save your shipwrecked soul. ANDREW: And there's nor drug that I can take to make the ache go away but that's okay life isn't comfort it's a flame and Death, her hottest heart, draws me down to deepest dark melting all my disparate parts into one. Jesus, oh Jesus, Jefferson Valley's full of bones. Jesus, oh Jesus, won't you make what's broken whole?

about

This EP is the first of Dear Other's first work. Served best with Yuengling, good headphones, and the volume cranked up. For a total sound and light experience, we recommend listening from start to finish while looking at the album art.

50% of your purchase will go to The Harmonium Project, a non-profit music venue dedicated to revitalizing the broken downtown of Steubenville, OH. Thank you for your generosity!

credits

released December 15, 2015

Produced by the brilliant Dan Bozek

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Dear Other Steubenville, Ohio

Dear Other is a band centered in Steubenville, Ohio.
Marc | Maura | Caleb | Dan | Brodie | Albert | Harrison | Maria | Liam | Sean K | Rob | Sean B |

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