split w​/​Claus Bros.

by Recreational Episiotomy

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{TCE-073}

The First Five Recreational Episiotomy EPs Remixed & Remastered
#5: split with Claus Bros*

Probably the most obscure release in the catalog (aside from those cassette compilations with abominably limited press runs), this might have been the first RecEpis Christmas release, given the Santa-themed duo on the other side. But the recording sessions for the first RecEpis full-length began to fall apart around this time; the small amount of finished material was released here in lieu of the planned Holiday-oriented originals.** RecEpis wouldn't record again until 2007, when "You'll Never Work in This Town Again" appeared on the web.***

The lyrics here are concerned with Rohypnol, huffing, cocaine (again) and Diet Coke; American Indians (again), another co-worker, racism, and The Friends of Distinction; and a singer-songwriter named Bill Swan that we all miss terribly. And the whole thing ends with a minimalist, male-oriented "answer" to the near-constant criticism that presumes that the name/concept of RECREATIONAL EPISIOTOMY is inherently anti-feminist (and not, as has been stated countless times, simply a satirical self-mutilation). The phallic inversion here puts the knife in the other hand, so to speak.

* A deteriorating "safety" copy of the original masters for the Claus Bros side was only recently uncovered in an estate sale; the four and a half minutes of this split were actually excerpted from a forty-minute one-take session, recorded on Christmas 2002 by Ashly Roachclip (Old Man Homo, Knifethruhead, etc). Look for a complete re-release soon!

** These tracks finally appeared on Christmas 2015, with sizeable additions, as "Thanks For Ruining Christmas": trashcaneagle.bandcamp.com/album/thanks-for-ruining-christmas

*** Strangely enough, it has been reissued here!
trashcaneagle.bandcamp.com/album/youll-never-work-in-this-town-again

credits

released January 23, 2016

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Official label of XOC* and friends


* one of those video game music guys

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Track Name: Looking For Swan at 17th and Mission
LOOKING FOR SWAN AT 17th AND MISSION

Billy Boy
- what happened to the sculptures and puppets?
Track Name: Rufies and a Moustache
RUFIES AND A MOUSTACHE

Tender moments with a tender skull
A state-of-the-art cellphone on bloody tile.
Straining through the professional sarcasm to get a whiff of that oxygen.
Track Name: Bowling Pin Pam
BOWLING PIN PAM

You should see bowling pin Pam
Fuck herself in the ass with a loaded shotgun
I will only be truly satisfied
When I can go to the cemetery
Lay down in the shade
Carve a hole in the dirt and
FUCK HER GRAVE.
Track Name: Mad Huffables
MAD HUFFABLES

Hollow echoes
In the shower for an hour.
Violently crumpling into numbness.
When you’ve painted yourself into a corner
There’s nothing left to do but huff your way out.
I can’t feel my hands.
I can’t feel my hands.
I can’t feel my hands.
Track Name: Cokesim
COKESIM

Who do I have to fuck to get some death around here?
Who do I have to kill to get some sex?
And will the one that I kill
Make someone else king?
Oh, what a terrible thing
To have to stand up and sing
The every praise of sitting down.
Jesus wept in a mathematical bath
Flowing underground.
What goes up must come down; what gets hot solidifies and cools.
Mathematically eliminated fools.
A different set of rules and a brand new box of tools.
Track Name: Mohawk Makes the Room
MOHAWK MAKES THE ROOM

The affluent air conditioning of the great outdoors,
The colors of autumn and the high pitched frequencies of Pavlov’s lowball glass,
They’re taking bets on which side of the teepee the shit will roll down.
Track Name: Aspartame
ASPARTAME

Empty stomach in a can.
Dented, dusty, hot, and free.
I'm licking my wounds on an anthill.
Track Name: Broad Strokes
BROAD STROKES

Calendars and wall clocks, available
in a wide assortment of styles and colors.
Nostrils are colorless on the inside.
Icandigithecandigitshecandigitwecandigittheycandigityoucandigit.
By which I mean
You have very idiosyncratic acquaintances.
Track Name: Psychosomatician
PSYCHOSOMATICIAN

There’s a mood ring hidden somewhere in the piñata of my beer belly.
Track Name: I'm Sick of My Dick
I’M SICK OF MY DICK

I’m sick of my dick