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Frog

by Frog

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  • Cassette

    Limited run of 50 green cassette copies of Frog's debut mini-album, comes with lossless download. Gorgeously ragged and beautifully packaged. Plus they're fucking magnetic media.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Frog via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 6 Frog releases available on Bandcamp and save 40%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Catchyalater - Single, Dandelion Radio Sessions (2015), Frog, Photograph - Single, Kind of Blah, and Judy Garland - Single. , and , .

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about

Beautifully packaged re-issue of Frog's gorgeous self-titled debut mini-album on ragged and limited green cassette.

Hearing songs like "Rubbernecking" and "Nancy Kerrigan" via GoldFlakePaint back in 2013 is what got me really excited about Frog and their sound, so I'm really glad that more people now have the chance to hear these songs.

It's a different sound to "Kind of Blah" (heyitsfrog.bandcamp.com/album/kind-of-blah) but everything that makes them Frog is there. This mini-album promised more to come, in the shape of their debut LP but Frog arrived fully formed and totally originally. It's beautiful, noisy, mumbly, shouty, tragic, frantic, funny, accidentally country and unavoidably NYC.

Originally issued January 2013 on Brooklyn's sadly defunct Monkfish label: CD VERSION STILL AVAILABLE - monkfishrecords.bandcamp.com/album/frog-monk-001. Their catalogue is really excellent, check out "Let's Make Out" by CHUCK too.

"Excuse me, Miss..."

Praise for "Kind of Blah":
"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

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

"A bit of a masterpiece." - 7BitArcade

"Oh, god. Help me, words. Help me convey what a blessing Frog is." - Collapse Board

"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

"A record whose sheer flood of ideas couldn't be denied...Irreverent, strange and just a little addictive." - CLASH

"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

"A solid reason for Frog to be your new favourite band - 8/10." - Shout4Music

"Perfectly melancholy..." - IMPOSE

"Makes me grin so hard I think my face may actually split into two separate parts." - The 405

"Making you pine for romances you’ve never had...Perhaps the one unifying factor of the record is the degree of humanity upheld by each track present, the emotions and the experiences almost all universal - 4/5." - ARTROCKER

"Anyone who doesn’t get that enjoyment from it really is past saving" - Louder Than War

"Have you spent any of your time listening to Frog? No? Then prepare yourself for something quite special, something you’ll rush to share with your friends, hoping to be the coolest kid on the block..." - Austin Town Hall

"Kind of Blah is America." - Wake the Deaf

"An LP you'll want to faun over and adore even when it confuses the hell out of you. The best artists never bare all on arrival and this is no different. Give it spin. And then another - until it makes sense - 8/10." - The Digital Fix

"It’s been a long, long time since a lo-fi recording has hit me as powerfully as frog’s 'Kind of Blah'...It’s tough to even begin speaking about this album because it subtly steals the words out of my mouth by taking my breath completely away." - Sly Vinyl

credits

released October 2, 2015

Album Credits:

"All songs written, recorded, directed, dissected, engineered, mixed, maimed, mauled, and murdered by Dan Bateman and Tom White, the mysterious and megalomaniac mongrels that make up frog. They were all recorded with an AKG 414, an SM57, a Shure Unisphere A 565a, and a Russian large diaphragm condenser that I cannot recall the name of."

Mastered by Paul Gold at Salt Mastering
Artwork by Corey Cavagnolo
Art adapted to cassette by Benjamin Shaw - www.benjaminshaw.net

Huge thanks to Brian Cooper / Monkfish Records - www.monkfishrecords.com

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Frog Queens, New York

Two real cool guys from Queens. Audio Antihero Records profile.

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Track Name: Ichabod Crane
presently he stopped inside a lonely place to rest a while
he leaned against a granite wall and gave himself a little smile
head chopped off like ichabod crane, o the things i’d do again
tongue hacked out like helen keller, o if i could only tell her
in the bowels of memory lane, meet me in the sugarcane
in a little place where i keep all the things that never came
time is a big city that rolls up majestically
with sewers that are festering and that’s the way it has to be
head chopped off like ichabod crane, o the things i’d do again
tongue hacked out like helen keller, o if i could only tell her
in the bowels of memory lane, meet me in the sugarcane
in a little place where i keep all the things that never came

when will i see you again?
meet in the sugar cane
the devil is a pious man,
he’ll take anybody in
44’s in his right hand
where movies are the only love
darlings kissing the god above
you don’t know how to say you’re sorry
time is a measure of how much you’ll never
be able to tell her how much you love her

head chopped off like ichabod crane, o the things i’d do again
tongue hacked out like helen keller, o if i could only tell her
in the bowels of memory lane, meet me in the sugarcane
in a little place where i keep all the things that never came
my true love is gone, my true love was slain
and she died in that alabam’ sugar cane

head chopped off like ichabod crane, o the things i’d do again
tongue hacked out like helen keller, o if i could only tell her
in the bowels of memory lane, meet me in the sugarcane
in a little place where i keep all the things that never came

when will i see you again?
meet in the sugar cane
the devil is a pious man,
he’ll take anybody in
44’s in his right hand
where movies are the only love
darlings kissing the god above
you don’t know how to say you’re sorry
Track Name: Arkansas
wounded entertainers diggin’ in at flanders
breathe in the strangers and dream of the frail nurse
that sings the Marseillaise
at night

softly folding blankets tight
and i get you it’s hard, i get you it’s hard, marchons and marchons, monsieur

the germans wore grey and you wore white,
all the brits were rarin’ for a fight

i get you it’s hard, I’m shocked and i’m scarred
thats how they get ya, there’s a dead note floating in the measures
there’s a punk kid coughin’ on the stretchers
there’s a weeping swell of arkansas for arkansas
that’s how they get you
and i hope darling i don’t upset you
but the pale faced doctor knows she sings for all of us
and darn it sir, she calls for us now
the germans wore grey and you wore blue
and all the bougies all stared at you
bedside confessions where doctors hit paydirt
and gabe gets on the faders and says hes gonna blow my mind
pan the german front hard right

bring the howitzers up soft in the night till the trenches alight
thats how they get ya
and i hope darling i don’t upset ya
there’s a hun deep inside all the heifers
there’s a weeping swell of arkansas, for arkansas
and i’m out of excuses, there’s a form that i’m using
it’s worn, it’s torn, and the eyes are threadbare gone
i’m out of excuses
Track Name: Jesus Song
mary threw jesus a party at chucky cheese
and invited all the moms from the a&p
and kids thought it was gay and they called him a freak
and they filled up his book bag with nacho cheese
and jesus threw it out himself in the parking lot
imagined shooting them all with a shotgun cocked
and he read science fiction novels out in the car
till Mary ran out frantic, o there ya are

i can’t cross the streams i can’t cross the streams
so why’re you all alone tonight
i can’t cross the streams i can’t cross the streams
so why’re you all alone tonight

its lonely by the florida light that you read by
jesus started jerking off when he was 12
to a sear’s catalog on his mom’s top shelf
and he rewound and played back the scene from animal house
where jim belushi pulled off the cute girl’s blouse
and he invited john the baptist over to watch it
put a pillow barricade so they weren’t touching
and he found himself looking over at john’s side
he hated himself afterwards as he cried

i can’t cross the streams i can’t cross the streams
so why’re you all alone tonight
i can’t cross the streams i can’t cross the streams
so why’re you all alone tonight
it's lonely by the florida light that you read by
Track Name: Nancy Kerrigan
choked down a claritin
thought back to oregon
where she wore her cardigan
just like nancy kerrigan
when they broke her legs
over your frosted flakes

the minds a beautiful thing to waste
and all the ambulances are filled up with admirers
and all the orderlies fight back tears on dim-lit stairs

god bless the state of texas
and the dallas cowboys’ blue
i know darling he’ll protect us
can i venture an educated guess

have i had some part of your loneliness?
and we put our prayers in nanny kerrigan

if i could afford it
i would record this
on your mother’s organ
you left back in oregon
and i put your face
coming through the drapes
stick you in between the lines and the bass
and all the houses we pass will have american flags
and all the sullen sons inside will hug their dads

god bless the state of texas
and the dallas cowboys’ blue
i know darling he’ll protect us

can i venture an educated guess
have i had some part of your loneliness?
and we put our prayers in nanny kerrigan
we put our prayers in nancy’s care
Track Name: Space Jam
thursdays i met you ‘neath the garibaldi statue
and i held my breath as you came over
looking like the best of auld lang syne
lip-synced sinatra blarin’ out an idling mack truck
out front of the cafe we used to go
since then i’ve never been inside
but i always pass it by
cus it hurts but i wanted it to stay
cus it hurt just like you babe

the past is a lake and the present is a shoreline
all the docks are filled with achin’ sailors ringing their bells for better times
and i always knew the worst thing that i knew to say
and i’d take your pride away
i would take your pride away
and i don’t know why you stay
cus it hurts but i wanted it to stay
cus it hurts just like you babe
on call i never sleep at all

there’s a bar outside my window and they’re playing my sharona
its christmas time i think so and the air feels just like home
cus it hurts but i wanted it to stay
cus it hurt just like you babe
rain beat on the tin roof
her name behind my window
cant pronounce it
attagirl
darlin I’m on the level now
Track Name: Rubbernecking
backed up down the country lane
the ambulance screams out of frame
rubbernecking
rubbernecking

the scent of death, it beckons as you drive away
fuck with baby just don’t tell me your name
shhh a second won’t you tell me where you came from
just a second
just a second

the scent of death it beckons as you drive away
last night i fucking killed a man
last night i fucking killed a man
and you know it didn’t change shit
and you know it didn’t change anything

theres a fire in the minivan
and the gasoline stains on your little hands
its just rubbernecking, failure beckons
you go to work, and iron your shirt
and count the seconds where all your records
don’t do dirt and hike your skirt up

its an old black tone coming through this microphone
the melody man, i don't know the truth be told, it might be thousands of years old

psst
psst
excuse me miss
excuse me, i think i saw you on the number 6 train
you were next to the front right doors and
i think you might’ve been commuting?

i’m a bad boy, motherfucker look me in the eye boy
i’m a fat boy, i’m aladdin and the 40 thieves i will steal into your bed with ease
and i fuck to kill
i’m davy crockett, king of the wild frontier boy, tell me true
its just rubbernecking, failure beckons
you go to work, and iron your shirt
and count the seconds where all your records
don’t do dirt, just hike your skirt
Track Name: Nowhere Band
we’re a nowhere band, with nowhere fans and we live near manhattan island

we drive to gigs in a minivan for two tickets for black and tans
for fans of the nowhere band that spill out in the stands
and stomp and clap their hands they’ll always understand
thoughts on the interstate, how much more can i take?
theres nothing here but stale beer and lost little boys
i often think i should start again
san francisco, or maybe austin

the day will come when they’ll clamor on for interviews when we were young
and they’ll bootleg our unreleased songs alternate takes and live versions
for fans of the nowhere band that spill out in the stands
and stomp and clap their hands they’ll always understand
we’re a nowhere band, with nowhere fans and we live near manhattan island
and the day will come when they’ll clamor on for interviews when we were young
and there’s always been a nowhere band in everyone i’ve ever been
he’s young and tall and scared and thin
and he wants to be let in