“Never was how I imagined this place to be,” the narrator reflects in the first lines of Suitcase in Hand. “Taking in the sights with a glass wall in front of me,” he continues. He is standing in a glass tunnel over a snow-covered Minneapolis street on a Saturday. This is not a vacation. This is a desperate search for significance. He attempts to create a pattern from chaos. But as he goes on to note, “something’s off with the sights, the streets, and the cuisine.” He may have made a mistake. It may be too late to fix it.
After refilling his 32-ounce Bubba thermos with burnt truck stop for the morning, he pulls off I-90 and parks behind Cabela’s for the night. In the morning, he takes a walk around the store. The spacious multi floor displays of taxidermy between fishing rods and camping gear elicited a feeling that this was F.A.O. Schwarz for Midwestern adults.
The next day, after navigating a series of dizzying clovers, he anchored his little four-cylinder Nissan on a suburban street in South Minneapolis. A clicking sound emanates from behind the vents. He walks to a nearby auto garage and is told it will take several days to order some specific Nissan part.
That night, he finds himself at Lyle’s, then a basement show, then outside in the frosty February darkness. In the people he meets, he finds others who are desperate to imbue their lives with meaning. They will go to great lengths to do so, exhausting themselves in the process but not making progress. He’s pretty sure he’s met the couple fighting in the dive booth already. The itinerant wonders if, when his vehicle is fixed, he should turn around and go back to where he came from.
East Coast
Never was how I imagined this place to be
Sinking in the sights
A glass wall in front of me
I’ve been going so long
I’ve forgotten what vacation is for
Baby, let’s move back to the East Coast
I want it dirty and real
Baby, all I want is to live in the city with our friends
So let’s roll out of here
Mixed messages the meaning’s all lost on me
Some the streets and the cuisine
I’ve been going so long
I’ve forgotten what vacation is for
I’ve been going so long
I’ve forgotten what vacation is for
Baby, let’s move back to the East Coast
I want it dirty and real
Baby, all I want is to live in the city with our friends
So let’s roll out of here
There for the Band
You were there for the band
With the decorum of a demolisher
A suitcase in your hand
Decidedly defeated
You retreated to the den
Where you wanted to know if the guitarist left
Said he'd promised to take you out of this mess
You were talking like you do when you're toasted
I'm sorry I was too tired to focuse
You looked outside for the band
Surreptitiously speaking, you had high hopes and big plans
I was your fallback
You fell down like you gave a damn
Drinking as if your life depended on it
Fronting like the night went as expected
Trash talking like you do when you're twisted
Sought solace in me but I resisted
Cuz you were only there for the band
Two for Ones
The loud lovers in Liquor Lyle's
Stumbled in, took the table by the TV
Clearly loaded the waitress looked them over
Took their orders anyway
Loud lovers in Liquor Lyle's
Settled in, screamed up at the TV
The waitress came back over
No eye contact
Just set down their drinks
Two two for ones
Vodka with a lemon squeeze
They're acting like this is their private party
I'm stone faced
and contemplative
on the wane is the amount of
my irises are waning
Across from me
A fixture of the street
Uptown around Lake
She kept it quiet as possible
She was graceful wasn't she
As she threw up in the garbage can
Behind the cigarette machine
Two two for ones
Yeah, there a pretty good deal
But I've had my share and it's time to leave
Sometimes
We’ve got a lot we’d like to say
But lack the verbal ability
We walked all night
3am is the time for honesty
Sometimes you just got to accept
Who you are
Sometimes you just got to admit
What’s no longer
Sometime I hope we can move on
Sometimes I’m glad we never will
I go outside at dusk
But hate having to walk past
Your old house inhabited
By some young family
Bulky blue plastic
Felt like an old friend’s visit
I listened for a voice that was there
I hope I never forget it
And I know its a touchy subject
Talk about modern psychology
And I know it’s taboo or whatever
You don’t care for home diagnoses
We’ve got a lot to say but lack the verbal ability
We walked all night, 3am is the time for honesty
Sometimes you just got to accept who you are
Sometimes you just got to admit what’s no longer
Sometimes I hope we can move on
Sometimes I’m glad we never will
I go outside at dusk but I hate having to walk past
Your old house inhabited by some young family
Bulky blue plastic felt like an old friend’s visit
Sometimes you just got to accept who you are
Sometimes you just got to admit what’s no longer
Sometimes I hope we can move on
Sometimes I’m glad we never will
I know its a touchy subject
To talk about your psychology
And I know its taboo or whatever
You don't care for home diagnoses
Classified of not doesn't make a difference
Unless it helps think of yourself
Sometimes you just got to accept who you are
Sometimes you just got to admit what’s no longer
Sometimes I hope we can move on
Sometimes I’m glad we never will
Old Gold
We were the kind of drunks that got on with the broken hearts around the Old Gold cigarette machine
Texas hold-em LED like plugging into 83
I cringed when I saw my reflection in the dusty screen
We are young and we keep breathing
While forces constrict like a boa
We remember how we used to move
But we can take all the damage
Through endless dark nights we’ll manage
To keep our heads level and wait for relief
We were the kind of drunks that stayed in til the sun came up
Left quietly with our pocket empty when they made us
So you take care of you and I’ll try to take care of me
Something has got to shift for the better eventually
We are young and we keep breathing
While forces constrict like a boa
We remember how we used to move
But we can take all the damage
Through endless dark nights we’ll manage
To keep our heads level and wait for relief
We Tried
We tried to get along
We tried just having fun
We took route 80
Headed out to the pacific sun
We tried blue highways
Traveling all night long
We danced in the dessert
With cactus dreams and a mesquite song
But it's so hard
When every expression is programed like a code
And it's tough love when every season is the same as the one before
We tried talking lot
Or speaking with our hands
We tried going out
We tried just being friends
And it's no one's fault
When you've seen your relationship on a screen
It's only natural
When every exchange is scripted to sound more real
We tried country roads
That old cripple creek
We hiked from Carlsbad
Up to the top of Pike's Peak
We tried Silver Lake
Floated on the Mississippi
Windy road in Sequoia Park
Then we went back to New York City
But it's so hard when you're gone
And you're never going home
You've gone so far
Yet every road you take is for a return
Night in Kansas
The expanse of
The Kansas sky at night
Is fucking awesome
I think I finally feel alright
19 years old
Nothing to hold on to
Never anything on the radio
But “high on you”
Switched on the boombox
Duct-taped to the console
Of the Chrysler LX
Strangeways, Here We Come in
We had a old map
Roads that no longer exist
Signed up for a credit card
Not afraid to use it
A metal flashlight
Spare D batteries
Conjoined sleeping bags
Stashed behind the back seat
We hid there and
You read me invisible cities
For about ten minutes
Everything was as it should be
For about ten minutes
Everything was as it should be
Thirty
Got a mug that says
Life begins at thirty
Seem early but I gotta get ready
Some some years angry and disconnected
Why am I afraid of being rejected
Hauling ass to get to the northeast
I'm tired of being so floaty
Leaving this place for the last time
I could never learn to be
Sometimes I add up all the five dollar bills
That I have spent on parliaments
But I'll always value that time we spent
Up on the roof listening to the Pogues on the stereo
Leaving when you heard the banshee's howl
I wanna make it to 28
I swear these sketchy areas used to be safe
When we were young it wall all just a minor threat
Now so many of my friends have kicked it
Got a mug that says "life begins at thirty"
That's fine by me
Hudson Line
Sitting on the Metro North line
Got a seat on the Hudson side
Majestic views that blow my mind
What else could I ever want
I'm glad you're as young as me
I can't let you leave before I leave
This world is full of anxiety
You help me keep perspective
I like my coffee at 8pm
In the dining room with all my friends
These get togethers are everything
Wish I could freeze us here
But that’s just what makes it real
And that’s just what makes us real
The Girls Go Out at Night
The girls go out at night
Get the light ale at this joint
That was men only in the 60’s
On their way to a show down the street
No need to sneak backstage at all
See the sycophants sing their praise
Never fall asleep again on commuter trains
Let the has-beens relive their reign
While raging bulls race back to brawl
Seraphic junkie hearts skip in the stalls
We all want to be invincible
So the girls stay out all night
The girls go out at night
The girls go out at night
The girls stay out all night
The girls go out at night
The girls go out at night
The girls go out at night
The girls go out at night
The girls go out
This album was recorded with a cheap condenser, a rewired landline telephone and a few crappy drum mics.
Jesse Zucker - vocals, guitar, acoustic, keys, drums
Sean Zucker - bass, vocals
Former Birds 