Nice Shirt

by mean sean

supported by
Mike Petruccelli
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Mike Petruccelli ST. VITO BLESS THEM ALL WITH THE OLD MAN VIBES AND GATE-KEEPING ABILITIES. Favorite track: Haunted.
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02:40

credits

released May 19, 2015

Jimmy: Bass
Nick: Guitar
Vince: Drums
Vito: Vocals

Recorded/Mixed/Mastered at Observatory Studios with Erik Rasmussen

Album Art by Nick Pyle

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about

mean sean Chicago, Illinois

mean sean is a duck. Or a bird. Or a band. Or... something.

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Track Name: Spoiler Alert!
Spoiler Alert
All the kids that I used to know haven’t been seen at the local shows. just because you grow up doesn’t mean you have to not give a fuck. The scene is pretty silly but anything is better than must-see TV. There was a day that you couldn’t wait to get in the pit and mosh the night away. Now you’re staying in with your best friends Dexter, Walter, and all those mad men. Just because you grow up doesn’t mean you have to not give a fuck. The fanzines that you held dear have been replaced by Cheers and Jeers. Spoiler Alert. Just because you grow up doesn’t mean you have to not give a fuck. The scene is pretty silly but anything is better than must-see TV. Where’s the scene that I used to know?
Track Name: Jaywalk This Way
Jaywalk This Way
It's yet another sleepless night. Another clumsy chance to make it right. My senses fail in predawn blue. Bleary eyed I cross through barren streets and I'm alone. I skulk to your door but no one was home. I could have used a friend but I'm out here on my own. I put pen to paper and half-ass calculate. I scrawl the words I've wrote before and write you off but who's keeping score. Barren streets, and I'm alone. I went to your door but no one was home. Day breaks again and I'm out here on my own. I've got what I need all in one. Alone.
Track Name: Sold Out
Sold Out
I lean my head against the brick and feel the crowd, the roar, the grit. There's thunderous movement of the pit but the band sounds like shit. I'm standing outside of the show. Couldn't get in but I still won't go. Mixed with the sounds of the street is where I want to be. Another song is careened into. I don't recognize it so it must be new. I poke cigarettes with my left shoe and my ride is not coming soon. I'm standing outside of the show. Couldn't get in but I still won't go. Mixed with the sounds of the street is where I want to be. The guitar cuts out and other pieces follow suit. A power surge blew a tube. The crowd starts to boo and hiss so I head to the alley to take a piss. Then I realize the time again and I've missed the last train.
Track Name: Luposlipaphobia
Luposlipaphobia
Are you feeling sick today? Come to think of it you were ill yesterday. It's in your head anyway. Hypochondriac. Put your shoes on grab your keys. You get to the door and feel unease. What's that disease? Agoraphobic. If you're like me you can't sleep. Replay the day grinding down your teeth. Combing WebMD for diagnoses, trying to smoke away your neuroses. Drank last night and the day before. You're off the wagon and heading to the liquor store. It's what your liver's for. That last shot was one too much. Took another down and there goes your lunch. Who are you to judge an alcoholic? If you're like me you can't sleep. Replay the day grinding down your teeth. Combing WebMD for diagnoses, trying to drink away your neuroses. I bite my nails right down to the quick. Chewed up until there's nothing left of it. I'm sick. If you're like me you can't sleep. Replay the day grinding down your teeth
Combing WebMD for diagnoses, locked in your head with your neuroses.
Track Name: Perfect Strangers In Reverse
Perfect Strangers In Reverse
Here we are just strangers in a crowd. Not long ago we were arm in arm singing loud. But some great divide grew in between. No falling out or big fight, just apathy. I don't want to hear another song about friends being long gone. We used to argue up and down these streets. We walked each other home when the wind hit three sheets. Now the only thing holding me is concrete. I can't remember if I miss you or I miss the way I used to be. I don't want to hear another song about friends being long gone. Here we are just strangers in a crowd. We just don't make an effort. We're isolated and proud.
Track Name: Old Man Yells At Cloud
Old Man Yells At Cloud
I'm disconnected. Social networks leave me dejected. Every snarky status update, woe is me attitudes, and I cannot relate. But I still check my page. It's our cell phones keeping us alone Isolated in bluish glow. Keeping us disconnected. Slow text replies leave me neglected. Your vacation looked really great. Nice frosting work on those cupcakes. Your cat videos and dog photos don't make me feel any closer to the ones I used to know. I miss the way it was before I felt the phantom buzz. Payphones and pen and paper felt like contact really mattered. It's just this digital age that's got me feeling...
Track Name: Penny-Ante
Penny-ante
The crimson mask comes streaming down my broken face. Staggering to my feet and drinking in that copper taste. Take another shot and knock me down but you can't count me out. You don't know where I've been. I'm not the alpha male, not stronger, or fast. Desperation motivates me to risk more just to last. You don't know where I've been or seen what I've seen.
I land heads up like a bad penny. You can't imagine the cost to me to land heads up like a bad penny. Just for a Pyrrhic victory but a penny is just a penny.
Track Name: Buy Me A River (The Potomac Purchase)
Buy Me A River (The Potomac Purchase)
We're all shackled to a dead regime to maximize their questionable revenue stream. It's not enough to just pay once. You have to pay to stay on the losing team. It's modern American subjugation through our debt accumulation. Tell us what to buy and sell us until we die. Our collective voice is just an illusion. Our freedom of choice is a mass delusion. These politics perpetuate the status quo. It's not enough to sell it once. The freedom myth is sold in subscription. Selling snake oil to set us up by false prophets of this institution. Sell us until we die.
Track Name: Haunted
Haunted
This town is a cemetery for those I've let down perpetually. Empty homes look like tombstones. My mistakes made rattle ancestral bones. My bad dreams always find me. I'm haunted by the person I really should be. Haunted by the person I wish I could be. Figures are hiding in the shadows. Specters tapping at my window. It's poltergeists of advise not taken that is the penance for a demon I've awaken. My bad dreams always find me. I'm haunted by the person I really should be. Haunted by the person I wish I could be. My bad dreams always find me. Plagued by those apparitions of my fallen ambitions, revenant of my regrets, and the phantom of my deficits. I'm haunted.