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A Narxist Critique

by stoner will & the narks

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    15 track cassette with liner notes

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  • Cleanse the vibes at work, clear the office air of that putrid "boss" stank energy after a "higher-up" encounter with this handy dandy, genuinely bonafide anti-boss crystal for the chill price of $4.20.
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    all hand-printed, embellished, and completely one of a kind - never know what you'll get!
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  • T-Shirt/Apparel

    quiet down the decibels, intercept the audio,
    move around the decimals, everything's a radio!
    super limited edition, all hand drawn and one of a kind.
    painted with puffy paint, wash inside out in cold water for longevity.
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  • 2-color print of a bitchass Gadsden snake hoarding all the pumpkins.
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  • Poster/Print

    this 11"x17" double-sided semi-gloss beauty showcases your favorite stoner and narks just hanging out in the waters of the times on one side, with your favorite dolphin swimming through a sea of deliberately difficult-to-catch lyrics revealed to all on the other. lyrics of every song on the album immortalized in full!

    choose your own side to showcase on your bedroom wall: icons of an era or sea creature of enormous intellect and a wall of tiny text to prove it. who am i kidding, both sides are all those things.
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  • you know you're thinking about it... the proverbial shit and the fan
    externalize your obsession with this friendly reminder patch!
    raw edge, all hand-printed so all a little different, occasional puffy paint details
    put patch in dryer on high before washing, wash in cold water for longevity of print
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1.
Pounce on the Bidwell class: You broke glass and got shards in your thumb and hair in your gum Well, pick a side of the gun: Are you the shooter or about to get shot in the sun? Let’s break it down, get convoluted, misinformed and oh so stupid please With your windy windy windy rhetoric Pitter patter, pork and beans. Let’s trim the fat I can feel the air on your breath (and I don’t crossfit) you are breathing so hard man And no you can’t force the wind, what goes out must come back in With your windy windy windy rhetoric Prancing through the pumpkin patch: watch out for that liberarian who will snatch your pumpkin and leave you with nothing, freedom for him but not for you!
2.
Biking 03:22
Until the day I’m silently rubbed out by a Prius-clad assassin I’m gonna abide by every bicycle seat that I ever put my ass in It’s hard to call it an automobile when your oil-motivated coup is showing This baby runs on falafel, and it always gets me where I’m going I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking Every day of the week I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking I got bugs in my teeth Turn ‘em into a wreath Give it to Meryl Streep Well I wonder if that fox in the road just wanted to watch the pavement rush by its feet It’s a pretty tempting spectacle, so sometimes I try to see The difference between me and him is that I’ve got reflectors But I’m thinking too much, so I put on the Dirty Projectors I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking All around town I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking Right by some cows Gonna smoke that loud And avoid crowds [instrumental break] I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking Every day of the week I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking, I’m biking biking I got bugs in my teeth Turn ‘em into a wreath Give it to Meryl Streep
3.
Tell the concern trolls to stay away from my hot air balloon, because you’re never going to run a record label like a business, accountable to the CIA and some fitbits, not discounting the best efforts of the type-A misfits. The Myers-Briggs could never calculate my deficiencies. I’m a Co-Star boy, I prefer the algorithmic cosmos of the make-believe. Because my genius is unsure when it’s reeling from David Brooks’ billy club. And did anyone hear a thud, I think that was constitutional democracy. And oh-oh, designer cloaks of legitimacy are on sale. Yeah, they’re fifty percent off if you tell them you’re woke. And oh-oh designer cloaks of invisibility are upscale. Yeah, they’re flying off the shelves. And oh-no, you might think this is a joke. But these people don’t want to be stormed by an angry mob. Tell the chief of police that she can go ahead and cancel me, after she reads my zine and deems it counterinsurgency. Well that’s fine, that’s ok if she doesn’t like my jokes. That’s why she’s got a gun and she doesn’t have a Netflix show. And machine learning could never cackle at my sarcasms. My jokes are too good and too great is the chasm between me and satellite images of Buttigieg, the reflections of which negate the semblance of an edge. And the preppers are going to prep out in broad daylight. You’re never going to taste the influencers’ birthright. When you can’t see them croak. When you can’t see their cloaks. I swear to god, oh-oh-oh. I swear to the ideology of the op-ed page. And I swear to the Pinkertons dying on the hill of fifty percent off that Noah's ark is only a phone call away. And oh-oh, designer cloaks of legitimacy are on sale. Yeah, they’re fifty percent off if you tell them you’re woke. And oh-oh designer cloaks of invisibility are upscale. Yeah, they’re flying off the shelves. And oh-no, you might think this is a joke. But these people don’t want to be stormed by an angry mob.
4.
The price of a beer is cheaper than here But the kitsch on the wall strikes me with fear I count at least three images of the twin towers burning A bud light or three In the land of the free No I’d rather stay put My cuffed pants never get looks At this mahogany bar Decorated with books I compliment my nordic bartender on her basquiat tattoo! An uncritical fav In the home of the brave The coexist sign That’s displayed by the door Doesn’t seem to define Who this establishment’s for I like my beer how i like my politics: nominally inclusive and prohibitively expensive! No i can’t understand Those who tolerate war On the walls of a bar To save a few dollars more But there’s no ethical inebriation in the metropole
5.
I don’t crossfit, I’m not trying to get swole to win a fight. And the geniuses in the cockpit are always bringing a SWAT team to a knife fight. And all you professional yuppies have never read my blog. You’re too busy jogging and drinking craft beer with your dogs. And all you paid protestors get paid to like my band. If you listen in real close you can hear the money changing hands. I don’t throw shade, at least I’m not a Senator’s aide. That shit’s above my paygrade, but at least I’m not above throwing shade. I’m just writing down contradictions because they’re part of my artistic vision. And all my selfish decisions are uninhibited by long division. And I'm not calculating when I use a calculator. And I drown out all my shit with chorus and fader. All my bosses crossfit (so weird). Is it something about power I don’t understand? And heavyweights in the mosh pit are working through a complex about an all male eighties band. And all you grown up hippies covering your problems with tapestries. And pivoting to the right to the siren song of complicity. I’ll ask anyone with a pulse to please send money to my mailing list. And we can all shake hands, subsist, and pretend to make progress.
6.
Well i was walking down the street one day Me and my police department, hand in hand I didn’t see you coming around the corner It was an accident! But it took me to the holy land You know these things happen sometimes and Who am i to challenge fate? Oops! I spilled my police department in your ethnostate I guess I see why they call it the deadly exchange Cause I fell in love! And now I’m on a date Between a police department and an ethnostate Now some people have come out against our romance Shouting things about BDS, Richard Spencer and Sabra hummus But I don’t get what’s got them so worked up I did like one whole hour of research on this No, they just want to make a big mess and So much for the tolerant left! Oops! I spilled my police department in your ethnostate How could it be wrong, when Tel Aviv is kinda gay? I swear that nothing could ever ruin this day Except, shit, did I leave my police department in your ethnostate? How could I be so stupid? It was just a one night stand But what do you do when your police department and keys Are in the only democracy In the middle east? Well, I left my police department in the ethnostate Man, what are the residents of Northampton gonna say? What a headache over some stupid date I guess I have no police department now--and that’s fucking great
7.
Dolphin attack. Dolphin attack. Cocaine noodles. Dolphin attack. Quiet down the decibels. Intercept the audio. Move around the decimals. Everything’s a radio. Monitor minutiae. The tedium of the floorboards. Smile for the camera. Look, you are the scoreboard.
8.
And I’m out of seltzer (oh no!). Did my bubble burst (did my bubble burst?)? I’m singing helter-skelter to break my nineties curse (to break my nineties curse). I say this is not an ad. You say this is just a fad. Will carbonation damage my teeth (damage my teeth). Or is that rumor, hyperbolic group-think (hyperbolic group think)? I say this is not an ad. You say this is just a fad. You say this is not so bad. I say you’re a fucking scab. Cops don’t drink seltzer (Will, what do they drink?). They drink Mike’s Hard Lemonade (and they love the Patriots). And landlords own shelter, but their reign will one day fade (one day fade). You say this is not so bad. I say you’re a fucking scab.
9.
I always take the front seat When i ride the bus I like to stretch my legs out ‘Cause they’re very long I always give my seat up if somebody needs it Most people work much harder than me I always drop the window when I’m in my car I don’t like to live on the inside of a bubble The people walking by always say they like the music So i tell them it’s on the radio I always wear a helmet when I ride my bike My ex from Iran used to make fun of me for it She’d say she was joking but i detected venom Maybe love isn’t really all you need Stoner will dolphins, brian transportation The thinkpiece economy, you could call us kingpins When I ride the train I think about the future Wouldn’t it be nice if we had these everywhere I think to myself but then I think again Wishlist maps reek of manifest destiny
10.
I’m going to the witch shop to buy myself some crystals and fairy dust to sprinkle ‘round where I work. ‘Cause I don’t like the vibe in this large investment bank and I don’t like the energy of having a boss. I’m just crunching the numbers of a small mining project in the Brazilian Amazon. And I’m just punching the clock of accumulation and asset speculation. Finishing up the paperwork to put a luxury development on an indigenous cemetery. ‘Cause I can’t wait to leave town and spend the weekend in the Catskills. We’re gonna get an AirBnB and do Ayahuasca in a sweat lodge, ‘cause I don’t like the energy of my morning commute. I’m just crunching the numbers of a biofuel plantation in the borderlands of Peru. And I’m just punching the clock of the valuation of the situation.
11.
Cast down your bucket where you are was some shitty advice At the time but it aged well ‘cause a soil without roots will just Blow right away while you’re hacking through a concrete jungle For the people who signed your degree I hope you find what you’re looking for I hope you find what you’re looking for x4 I don’t want to see my home underwater but I’d rather have A great white shark for a neighbor than have a Beverly Nelson When the real estate bubble pops and the water’s at her ankles I know some eager new tenants I hope they find what they’re looking for I hope you find what you’re looking for x4
12.
Give me a blank slate, a canvas -- a typography of habit, So ruff-shod and wild, a nice place to raise a child. Where could we go? (Well, what were you thinking?) I feel like the city is shrinking We could pack it in for simpler living (And maybe get some chickens) We’re gonna get a drone to survey some land up in Vermont, after we change a municipal bylaw Give me a parking space that’s open unblemished, not broken where we can park our tiny abode that we bought with bitcoin tokens We’re gonna be free, gonna live off the land, gonna be untainted, soft spoken, because of automation and the man, the spectre of the shit and the fan. (Yeah.) We’re gonna drink bone broth out of mason jars, strained through cheesecloth (cheesecloth) And Instagram our private rebellion And you say that I’m trolling for clout but I’m high rollin’ Livin in John Locke’s tiny house Give me some scoby, some starter So probiotics to beat the Covid Outdoor dining under an arbor Self-reliance is our safe harbor I’m gonna chop wood ‘til I get tired, and take a nap And pass the work to help that I hire And you say that I’m trolling for clout, but I’m high rollin Livin in John Locke’s tiny house
13.
Shade Upon 03:16
A stormcloud’s a contagion in my mental infrastructure Even when the sun is out, all I hear is thunder. And there’s a million ways to do violence against an animal And that’s the PC way of saying there’s many ways to skin a cat And the surveillance state probably knows what’s on my mind Probably use their bots to make a dolphin attack But I’ll just leave everything implied And there’s a million ways to do violence against an animal And that’s the PC way of sayin’ there’s many ways to skin a cat And the weatherman is almost always wrong And a shoddy weather forecast is the perfect metaphor for a song And my Libra deep state isn’t always right And I toss and I turn and it keeps me up at night And there’s a million ways to throw shade upon an animal And that’s the PC way of sayin’ there’s many ways to hate a cat And the weatherman is almost always wrong And a shoddy weather forecast is the perfect metaphor for a song And a stormcloud’s a contagion in my mental infrastructure
14.
Call up the antitrust regulators and tell them (tell ‘em) to break up all the bands I don’t like. Who needs psych rock? Who needs dream pop? and who needs all those boomer bands that play at the casinos in Connecticut? I knew it was all over when the Obama justice department refused to break up the Rod Stewart reunion tour. They broke up Happy Jawbone, they tapped Karl Marx’s phone, and they told my old band that twenty percent of the door was the best that they could do. If I had to pay medical bills for every time that music saved or ruined my life I’d be so deep in debt to some masshole named Matthew, who probably works at a hedge fund, listens to Dave Matthews and thinks he is a hipster. There are no rock shows in a pandemic, only grainy YouTube footage from the nineties. I’m watching Sheryl Crow cover Cat Stevens, singin’ Don’t stop believing in hope and change. If there's one thing that antitrust regulators and the X-files have in common it’s that cops are the heroes in the liberal imagination and I collected all their trading cards, stole a magnet off their car, and I thought that their t-shirts were the stupidest t-shirts i ever saw. We’re the fifth band at this show, and I know you probably wanna go, but We’ll play our songs twenty percent faster if you just stick around. You’re the Bernie Sanders mitten meme and I’m the ad that’s flashing on your screen And we’re gonna rock ’n roll straight into the sunset. There are no rock shows in a pandemic, only doing the dishes over and over I’m going outside to look up at the sky, I’m so cool that it makes me high. (it’s 420 in the sky)

about

what makes a stoner will and the narks song? catchy melodies, funky beats, sweet and sometimes strange harmonies, sardonic lyrics, undertones of earnestness, a dash of flute, and the best kind of guitar solos—the kind that don’t quite make sense and refuse to “rock.”

combine these ingredients and you have a sonic tonic for our absurd times.

as playful as this music is, it isn’t exactly escapism, because it takes you straight into the confounding heart of contemporary capitalism. and man, it is an odd place. crossfit, digital surveillance, seltzer, craft beer, landlords, tiny houses, militarism, anti-trust policies, crystals, climate change, solipsistic self-care. “we’re gonna get an airbnb and do ayahuasca in a sweat lodge, ‘cause i don’t like the energy of my morning commute.” i bet you’ve never heard anyone sing that before.

these songs are wordy and worldly. but even as they take on our failed economic system, invoking distant places like the brazilian amazon and borderlands of peru, the narks remind us that all politics are local. northampton residents likely know that narks spelled with a “k” is a reference to mayor david j narkewicz, a regular target of investigative reporting by the shoestring, an independent media outfit where guitarist will meyer and bassist brian zayatz are co-editors. together with drummer steph jacco and vocalist anya klepacki, they make music laden with journalistic detail; the hometown specificities imbue the lyrics with a wider resonance. the “bidwell class” referenced in the opening number, “windy rhetoric”? the phrase shouts out a former city council member by name, someone ostensibly on “our” side, but actually not—we all know the type (“let’s break it down, get convoluted, misinformed and oh so stupid”).

it can be heavy stuff, but it’s never heavy-handed. the band makes it feel light. they sing of liberal hypocrisy on tap at the nearby bar, of homesteading hipsters buying up land like 19th century colonialists, of a police chief’s foiled plans to train overseas, and a seasonal resident who doesn’t want to pay her taxes (“i don’t want to see my home underwater but i’d rather have a great white shark for a neighbor than have a beverly nelson”). the album is undeniably cutting, but somehow feels hopeful; its juxtapositions both disorient and delight. stoner will and his comrades have channeled just the right amount of abrasive weirdness to complement their ultimate sincerity, without sacrificing any style. don’t be surprised when “dolphin attack” or “neocolonial self-care in the anthropocene; or the vibes at goldman sachs” get stuck in your head.

this is a narxist critique after all, and narxism has hooks. like marxism, narxism is all about tragedy and farce and, ultimately, transcendence. no matter how astutely it communicates the contradictions of our time, a record can never be the revolution. but it can make you laugh and allow you to dance—dance while the investment bankers speculate and the pundits bloviate. written and recorded during a pandemic and spiraling economic and ecological chaos, this music feels like release. just because everything is shitty, doesn’t mean our art has to be. —astra taylor

credits

released October 15, 2021

stoner will & the narks are
will meyer - guitar, annoying football clapper thing, vocals
anya klepacki - vocals, visuals
steph jacco - drums, vocals, flute
brian zayatz - bass, vocals

engineered an mixed by nate mendelsohn
mastered by justin pizzoferrato
released by tiny radars

email: narxandengels@gmail.com
IG/Twitter: @narxandengels

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stoner will & the narks Hadley, Massachusetts

the favorite band of bots and paid protestors.

brian
steph
will
anya

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