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NEVER COME DOWN FROM THE MOUNTAIN

by A. ARMADA

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1.
Lepracorn 09:01
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Jupiter... 07:20
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about

It’s not yet eight in the morning and you’re about to leave your one-bedroom apartment. You do this every day now. Standing in your kitchen wearing a cheap tie and button-down that were sold to you in a plastic box as a matching set, you spoon out the remaining microwaved oats from an Ikea bowl, call it breakfast, and start toward the door.
Whoops, you think to yourself suddenly – you almost say it aloud – as a small, intangible feeling of panic runs from your chest up through the base of your cranium. You step back. What went wrong? How did this happen?
It was just a month ago (Or was it yesterday? A year ago? Longer?) that you were in a room with two other people playing drums. Or was it guitar? (Couldn’t have been the bass.) You were working with them, chasing some nebulous idea-emotion, or maybe three separate ones. There’s no way to know. But it felt right, for a time, and when you and these friends of yours decided to play your quiet-loud-louder compositions in public, people, just a few, sometimes stood in front of you and nodded their heads in approval. Sweet, sweet validation.
It seems like that show just ended; you were loading some snare drum or guitar cab into your car and then… but now… here you are, up earlier than you used to go to bed, a jump drive in the pocket of your pleated khakis chock full of PowerPoint presentations and spreadsheets. You don’t even know what they mean or what they’re for. You only know how to read non-verbal cues from bandmates that indicate things like POUNDING TRIPLETS HERE or SCREECHING HIGH NOTES NOW or LET’S END THIS THING. Yet, here you are: clean-shaven and heading to work, the recollection of all that led to this somehow simultaneously fading away and coming back to you. What cruel magic is this?
You recorded most of these songs somewhere between then and now in a rehearsal space in Athens, Georgia and one in a recording studio just down the road.
– A.G. Daught, March 2014

credits

released March 8, 2014

Drums : Jeremy Harbin
Guitar / Bass : Matt Nelson
Guitar / Bass : Josh McCauley
Bass [Never Not Now] : Andy LeMaster
Voice of Reason : Alan Watts

All songs by A. ARMADA

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A. ARMADA Athens, Georgia

A. ARMADA is Jeremy Harbin, Matt Nelson, and Josh McCauley. These songs were culled from A. ARMADA's last sessions. Get weird. Turn 'em up loud. Don't Shred On Me was recorded by Andy LeMaster at Chase Park Transduction in Athens, Ga. mixed by A. ARMADA. All other songs recorded by A. ARMADA in The Seventh Circle of Hell in Athens, Ga. ... more

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