Count Bateman

by Frog

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  • Ltd Edition "Count Bateman" Cassette
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1.
Read something strange out of King James the air had changed shit wasn’t the same The high school dames you longed to bang have changed their names and moved to Queens Put all these things out in the flames go downtown claim my charred remains Moving along now I’m estranged from all the shame running in my veins What’s good I’m chillin’ outside your building The buzzers broken shits better unspoken What’s really really good is what I’d ask you if I could Just chillin’ is a virtue when you’re up way past your curfew What’s really really good is what I’d ask you if I could Just chillin’ is a virtue when you’re up way past your curfew And through the moans of overtones the notes are stones that hits your bones Played you a song you nodded solemn turned on Conan and now we’re stoned Sirens are poems cops write and show em at open mikes in Bed Stuyvesant Moving along now I’m alone I know you’re home What’s good I’m chillin’ outside your building The buzzers broken shits better unspoken What’s really really good is what I’d ask you if I could Just chillin’ is a virtue when you’re up way past your curfew What’s really really good is what I’d ask you if I could Just chillin’ is a virtue when you’re up way past your curfew
2.
Portchester past I95, take a right into the parking lot Down the stairs past the Mariachi records you bought and then forgot Who would play you in a movie, maybe Julia Styles Cus you got a foreign lover winking at the bottom of your smile Tell you what I’ll do I’ma wait out here for you Till the cars begin to move And the sun dries all the dew Search through all the bars and the nice gentlemen’s cars Smile and then you’re gone you don’t get what you want Can’t figure the mathematics of your thighs in the fuck’em dress Pat Swayze on them bitches like its 4AM and I’m depressed Who would play you in a movie maybe Maggie Gyll’ Irish immigrants stare out the water sad and mute and still One day when you’re gone I’ma wait out on your lawn Till the street lamps all turn on And the dog walkers are gone Black out all the moon Black out in your room You don’t get what you want You don’t get what you want
3.
Play songs outside of the BBQ on 8th and 23rd St. Johns, dopesick in the pews you don’t know any of the words On a black Friday you never noticed the stars Take it back Sade you turn her on in the car Do you wanna get a drink with me In this country we go tat for tat, wasted bumming a cigarette Do you wanna sit and sing to me Name dogs after all the boys you slept with in 8th grade Name songs after all the shit I used to hear you say Cadillac Escalades huddle outside of the bars Sitting back in the shade I never noticed your scar Do you wanna get a drink with me In this country we go tat for tat, wasted bumming a cigarette Do you wanna sit and sing to me On a black Friday you never noticed the stars Take it back Sade you turn her on in the car Do you wanna get a drink with me In this country we go tat for tat, wasted bumming a cigarette Do you wanna sit and sing to me Barefoot not a pot to piss in these motherfuckers won’t ever listen Do you wanna get a drink with me
4.
Borned King 03:42
Picked up on the first ring Heard your bracelets jingle jing The sound of your voice hang when you knew that it was me The silver armor glinted in the noonday sun The squire closed his eyes and dreamed of Michigan The soldiers’ mouths watered as they gazed upon the gates of the Born King She bawled in the corners of legit estates Her nipples set out like dinner plates She pulled in close then hesitates Inside of the walls of the born king lord she drawls Abandoned swings men’s room stalls inside the walls The villagers they screamed In the grocery stores and streams The gracious mothers grieved closed the doors and wept for the spring Sometimes when I look at old pictures of you I could just crawl right through the frame All the boys and girls in the cab on cocaine The procession laid out like reverent thighs The magistrate with the batted eyes The field stained red like cherry pies Inside of the walls of the born king lord she drawls Abandoned swings men’s room stalls inside the walls Walking home alone don’t pick up the phone
5.
Touch 03:12
Walking around with older guys Talking about getting drunk and high One takes her arm says don’t be shy She makes him laugh the way he likes Scanning her body with your eyes Want something bad it makes you cry Dangle your legs over the side Bum me a cig I got a light Don’t say too much don’t talk just touch Don’t fuck this up go slow don’t rush Don’t say too much don’t talk just touch You’ll miss the bus she grabbed her stuff All the Italians talk about the shit that would come out of her mouth Crosses her legs sits on your couch Stealing a glance you check her out Though she is only a foot away Stare at your feet think of what to say Dangle your legs over the side Bum me a cig I got a light Don’t say too much don’t talk just touch Don’t fuck this up go slow don’t rush Don’t say too much don’t talk just touch You’ll miss the bus she grabbed her stuff
6.
Old lovers in the cold air, said she never wants to get in the way Stayed up watching Colbert, all the lights run cross her face That’s right it’s broken and you can’t get back together There’s something unspoken when her hand touches the leather That’s all the claim the call you can rely on Pulled into gear and followed in a Scion There’s something in your midst I’m thinking of you it’s something I do Fall colors and the damp air and you don’t know what to say Everything that you did there was just to make her stay That’s right I’m fucked up and it can’t get any better There’s something in the rough cuts and it makes you can’t forget her That’s all the claim the call you can rely on Pulled into gear and followed in a Scion There’s something in your midst I’m thinking of you it’s something I do
7.
Taste 03:57
Picked you up in a Toyota Camry you flipped the channels till you turned on Prodigy Parked outside a bar on your old street the window hummed like neon royalty We drank rum and sing karaoke, coldplay done in a thick cockney Then we left and drove to another bar I put my fingers between your legs in the car Your lips full your eyes closed o my god no rubbers no seatbelt and no stars Then holding the nape of your neck I came so good I can’t even spell my name Hey give me a taste O yea Then we left and went to your brother’s place Did so much coke can’t feel my face Walked down come to a familiar door open it up it smells just like before Close your eyes and whisper like a whore breathe me in monsieur je t'adore All the lighthouses and the cold dead cowards and draped carnations on the tall stone towers Your lover comes to you in the cold dawn hours and whispers to you promises she’ll never keep the light it creeps into your checks Hey give me a taste O yea
8.
All these people want are covers, had your mom make up the flyers You’d be my lover but for another I wish I could live 1000 lives, court and wed 1000 wives Sow the bed with golden lies, journey to the center of 1000 thighs Call me when your feeling down Call me when he’s not around Call me let’s get out this town you know I’m down All the songs you like are southern I don’t know when we’ll see eachother You’d be my lover but for another Listen to the apples in stereo, rocking pete and paul and mary-o Trouble and toil, bubblin’ oil Grab some potatoes and bring em to boil Call me when your feeling down Call me when he’s not around Call me let’s get out this town you know I’m down
9.
If you want love you found it Don’t you say shit about it New York is just a con all work and not much fun Take it slow take it gentle then you know when it’s simple Do you love me, do you think of me drunk at a party There’s a corpse in your truck Say it softly making coffee my hands through your bangs got the world at your fangs If you’ve got love you shout it don’t want to hear shit about it I’m making this on luck Man I will fuck you up Take it slow take it gentle then you know when it’s simple Do you love me, do you think of me drunk at a party There’s a corpse in your truck Say it softly making coffee my hands through your bangs got the world at your fangs
10.
Miracle 02:58
Doctors bring their patients in all dressed in white sheets Welcome Mr. Bateman won’t you please get on your knees Ocean of songs flow out your palms, knock knock knock at the patio door at dawn Drawled damnation and the whole damn world’s a stage I ain’t played my part yet on account of wage Ocean of pain you hear when he sing, I miss you so much I just can’t place your name That’s what you call a miracle wind bring his name to my ear Women and children hysterical me I have no fear All them crab rappers y’all rubber and I am glue Money stick to me it bounce off of you Ocean of charms Midwestern farms A pox, a pang, a pity that you’re gone That’s what you call a miracle wind bring his name to my ear Women and children hysterical me I have no fear

about

Track-by-Track commentary feature @ The Alternative - www.getalternative.com/track-by-track-frog-count-bateman

"Count Bateman" premiere @ Beautiful Freaks - beautifulfreaks.co.uk/features/2019/08/album-premiere-frog-count-bateman

"It's Something I Do" premiere @ Various Small Flames - varioussmallflames.co.uk/2019/08/01/frog-its-something-i-do

Black Friday Music Video premiere @ For the Rabbits - fortherabbits.net/2019/07/31/premiere-frog-black-friday

'Count Bateman' is the fourth release from Frog, the acclaimed cult Wyrd-Americana Indie band from Queens, NYC. Their music has found over one million streams on Spotify, they’ve received support from the BBC, GoldFlakePaint, NPR Music, DIY Mag, CLASH, TLOBF, The Skinny, London in Stereo, The Alternative, The Grey Estates, Various Small Flames and many more.

On their latest eclectic and emotional outing, there’s hints of the Carole King’s ‘70s pop, Jonathan Richman’s earnest eccentricity, Ned Doheny’s white boy funk, Greg Dulli’s lust, the Meat Puppets’ bastardized Americana and the wild wit and narrow self-control of The Silver Jews.

'Count Bateman' will be co-released August 16th by Audio Antihero and Frog founder Danny Bateman's fledgling Tape Wormies imprint (which he describes as “a hippie commune label, seeking to make its artists co-owners/profit sharers so that everyone will help each other succeed”).

Previous Press for Frog:

"A safer bet there’s never been – this record is essential." - GoldFlakePaint

“Imagine the euphoric pop of Small Wonder getting caught in a time warp to the wild west with Modest Mouse’s ‘Satin in a Coffin’ and you just about scratch the surface.” - DIY Mag

“I was taken aback by its apparent simplicity; a simplicity that at first masked a wealth of subtle nuances, wry homages, and nostalgic narratives that were enough to make listeners lament growing up anywhere other than suburban America” – The Line of Best Fit

“Utterly brilliant...they make you nostalgic for memories you never had and take you back to places you’ve never before been.” - London in Stereo

“Frog returns and is alive with tales of sadness, hysteria and delusions. Though the narratives are ambiguous and chimerical, each feel personal and poignant. The cult of Frog will only get bigger.” – Cereal & Sounds

“Locked between the unstoppable force of self-deprecation & the immovable object of the American Dream.” – Various Small Flames

“Frog continue to exist outside of musical fads and trends, a welcome moment of quiet contemplation in the sometimes hectic modern world, a subtle, stunning triumph.” – For the Rabbits

credits

released August 16, 2019

Co-Released by Tape Wormies and Audio Antihero Records

Written, Performed, Recorded and Produced by Danny Bateman

Mastering by Paul Gold

Art and Design by Benjamin Shaw

Cover photo by Emma Hagendorf

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Two real cool guys from Queens.

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