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Kind of Blah

by Frog

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about

"Kind of Blah" is the stunning debut LP from Frog, the two person guitar band from Queens, New York. 11.5 songs recorded in a non-functioning bowling alley under a cafe in Astoria. As Dan Bateman writes on the LP sleeve, the album “was an attempt to engage modern musical ideas from a 1950s style of arrangement, and a was a complete failure in that respect but a success in most others.”

‘Kind of Blah’ doesn’t sound like it was recorded in the Columbia studios on 30th Street or like it was produced by Irving Townsend, nor do the songs sound like they were written to be performed at Carnegie Hall. But the spirit of NYC past and present lives in Frog, in this unknown guitar duo from Queens. It’s an album full of sounds and stories, of lives lived and not lived, and it’s every bit as compelling as that sounds.

"Judy Garland" video - youtu.be/ztPW8TaZv-E
"All Dogs Go to Heaven" video - youtu.be/h0cjdC1seo0

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

"A bit of a masterpiece." - 7BitArcade

"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

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

"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

"A perfectly melancholy subway ride..." - IMPOSE

"A splendid piece of work." - Gideon Coe (BBC 6 Music)

"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

"A definite standout for the year." - ThrdCoast

"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

"A frenzy of fast guitar licks and off-kilter vocals, but it all comes together to form an impressive force." - MAGNET Magazine

"Anyone who's heard even the tiniest excerpt from Kind of Blah will attest that, however they came to it, they've found a spark of magic from somewhere." - Crackle Feedback

"Frog are the most wonderful weirdos, and we should hold them close to our hearts forever." - Don't Need No Melody

"Peek through a smeared window at an innocent and imaginary New York...the entire set feels like it exists outside of time...feels like a constant, noisy dawn..." - Clicky Clicky Music Blog

"Recorded under a derelict bowling alley, the album really does suck you into the New York that Frog know…‘I’m an adventurer’ is a line from the album and it’s a hell of a journey to join Frog on. An album that will have you an emotional mess at one moment and hopping for joy at the next…" - Spectral Nights

"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

"Albums like this don't come around that often." - Independent Clauses

"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

"Love this." - Huw Stephens (BBC Radio 1)

"Kind of Blah is an album that speaks to many, and it will speak to you if you give it a chance. There's a honesty and humanity at its core and Frog pull shimmers of beauty through music that is sad, painful and desperately catchy." - Scene Point Blank

"Here, frog has crafted something truly different, uniquely flawed, and indisputably special. And that’s kind of awesome - 4/5." - Sputnik

credits

released May 25, 2015

Artwork by Benjamin Shaw - www.benjaminshaw.net
Mastered for both vinyl and digital by Alex DeTurk (www.masterdisk.com/alex-deturk-discography) with additional work by Gabe Liberti

frog.cx
www.facebook.com/frogtunes

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about

Frog Queens, New York

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

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Track Name: All Dogs Go to Heaven
Jesus Montero breathed out loudly and smoking watched an audi through his fire escape
it was lightly raining all the trains shuttled out on Concourse all the dogs seemed to call her name
if all dogs go to heaven
and all dames ache for Daniel Day
fuck with me darlin' and i'll make you pay

the city is a womb of brown brick beds of clay
outside of the bars the lakers are on in the alleyway
but it shines from a time when the waitresses were fine and their great big bosoms bulged through their hi, I'm jamie signs and Jesus's eyes glides across the storefronts as he longs for a city's past that drips into the present like honey from a heated glass and
all dogs go to heaven
all songs end in quiet refrains
smart moms buy generic say it tastes the same

train is coming train is chugging, jesus running jesus coming, metrocard expired don't care, through the turnstiles up the stairs, see the train lights in slow motion creamy white as if a lotion dripped upon the body lying on the rails, jesus he pails
all dogs go to heaven, amps up to 11, all cabs go to bedford and N 11
all dogs go to heaven, grandmas go to reverends, all punks hang outside of the 7-11
Track Name: Fucking
Quick turn up that voice dripping with her loins spread out backseat movie theatre
Elbows sticking to the floor all those delicious young boys in the back seats heard
Diet cokes in supple throats you cum in ropes you need to see her
her naked pose your eyelids closed you lose your shit to lynyrd skynyrd

fucking all of the time
out of sight out of mind
racing towards a decline
no reaction the past refracts her toni braxton records glittering in the light
onto those ripped black leggings in the cab home she cried

o and suck it to me suck it to me suck it to me suck it to me o motherfucker hey how are you doing?
Spit sideways boys please put your back into it
ya'll don't know what I been through till ya'll been through it
catch one look at those big brown eyes and you blew it

fucking all of the time
out of sight out of mind
racing towards a decline
queens forgot all the back of taxis broke her glasses sir please could you not in here
knock knock knock on the window called the cops five minutes they'll be here
Track Name: Wish Upon a Bar
You wish upon a bar
please don't tell me where you are
bartender warmin' up his car
to CBS FM new york
bar loud, bar bright, first bar I see tonight
i'm gonna crawl out in the soft light im gonna weep slow meek as christ

the phone booth's an altar in queens, girl why you always gotta get mean
the buck that bought the bottle coulda struck the lotto but I never really knew what it means
don't tell me where you are
don't send me holiday cards
i'ma drop dead drunk on the fdr I wish upon a bar

its almost christmas time
the bartenders cutting limes
and he asks you bout your kids
you respectfully decline

bar moans with calzones and verses from the rolling stones
i'm gonna call you from a payphone i'm gonna make sure that you're not home

don't tell me where you are
don't send me holiday cards
i'ma drop dead drunk on the fdr
I wish upon a bar
you'll stay right where you are
I wish upon a bar
you'll come back to new york
Track Name: Photograph
guitar fell out of time, missed you when you were mine
snowflake auld lang syne wept from the 7 line
thought bout something you said in '02 and slept on the tarmac
o, got a text from you out the blue well whatcha call that

it’s just a photograph
you catch her mid laugh
it’s just a furtive stab
into the curtained past
cus in the photographs
you lit a bogue then ashed
into the water splash
and batted long black lashes 'to the camera flash

1979 asian children crying
nixon had resigned and the pretty fathers pined
for days spent grillin dr pibb out in the guard shack
mrs hansen will you take me till death do and all that

it’s just a photograph
you catch her mid laugh
it’s just a furtive stab
into the curtained past
cus in the photographs
the kings of queens yelped brash
and ordered guinness drafts
and she smiled then laughed ordered something on my tab

countless boroughs filled with bars all that matters is the scars doc is criminal as charged burn your tongue its metal forks burn the young its metaphors burn your skin its agent orange, apples sprinkled in the porridge
I don't know where you are, daddy loan me your car baby where did you park, darkened parking garage, babe what happened to us, long pained look where’s the trust, gets tinged up with the lust, zipper down then you fuck just then a passing truck
Track Name: Everything 2002
I poured kerosene on my old dirty magazines mom and dad don't be mad at me
in a hole in a tree in the woods by the mattingly's there's a bag full of dvds
I run where no one can see and they'll console me, console me, no one consoles me like they do

its 1030 and somebody's calling me I ignore them with all of me
she says there's a hole in me and it looks like a coffee bean check the locks pull it off to me
I run where no one can see and they'll console me, console me, no one controls me like she does

i'm an adventurer i'm an adventurer i'm just like gulliver thats what I said to her
she never speaks to me unless we chat privately she never knows its me my handle's anthony33
Track Name: Knocking on the Door
Mcdonalds drive thrus where I kissed you and lied to you and the garbages sighed food as I told you you were mine
something in you moves inside when you hear this song in the checkout line and feel the flickers in your nerves where my hands moved up your curves and feel the neighbor boys askin nervous do you think they heard us do you think they heard us, staring through the blinds 'say
something moves in you when you hear me sing

excuse me miss this might sound strange, I know I look and sound deranged but I found this little graduation picture of you and its old and coffee stained
but I kept it with me don't know why I cut it down to wallet size and kept it in my pocket walking through the chelsea market all those achin empty blocks of her I just can't think thoughts of her I stare into your pretty teenage eyes I just can't keep from cryin said
something moves in you when you hear me sing

i'm knockin on the door sinatra hits the floor and all the pretty wives wail for the blue eyed lord
henry hudson drive, avoid the i95 try to let your eyes dry a bit before you open the door
Track Name: King Kong
something good it cant be this wrong make you love me by the end of this song
drag you screaming and set in bonds, empire state building king kong

set in chains like damon wayans to the family that bears his name won't you look handsome rolled up pants and holding cocktail parties for ransom
I wanna tie you up and then some, love some type a way our grandsons will sit upon our knees in mansions and ask about again through tantrums
something wrong with a heart that longs for another, dont you love her, yea i'm busy son pops open a cold one ask your mother, don't you love her don't you love her

something good it cant be this wrong make you love me by the end of this song
drag you screaming and set in bonds, empire state building king kong

I see london I see france, I see red well here's your chance to pull my heart just out its cartridge, shoot at its feet and make it dance
all my prayers are national anthems, the desert is an off white canvas god stretched out tight over kansas and drew the chalklines round my hands
something wrong with a heart that longs for another, dont you love her, yea i'm busy son pops open a cold one ask your mother, don't you love her don't you love her

something good it cant be this wrong make you love me by the end of this song
drag you screaming and set in bonds, empire state building king kong
Track Name: Catchyalater
saw ya taking all the kids inside
picking up their toys you're cryin
and I watched you from the kitchen window
I wanna call you I just play nintendo
so you say the magic died
always knew just how to hurt my pride
never knew just how to say im sorry
im not tired baby tell me a story

catchyalater

would you like a diet coke i'm buyin
if you say you don't I know you're lyin
drove to the mall to see what flicks were showin
saw the exit and I just kept goin

in comes the doctor in comes the nurse in comes the lady with the alligator purse and you turn on 'lanis morrisette and learn all the curses but your aunt turns it off after one or two verses and the punks say how ya doin motherfucker and the punks say how ya doin motherfucker and you root for Patrick Ewing and you cant stop doin it you cant stop chewin it you tell her

catchyalater
Track Name: Irish Goodbye
no its not a shock exactly mom its just that every single block of 7th avenue yawns out before me like its trying to talk
theres a grainy video thats playin back at 10 frames a second and she takes her things unplugs her fan sinatra screams over the band, he doesn't hear about it

nothing's gonna coil down
fuck this shit i'm florida bound
and I live in every jersey town
that hugs the turnpike on the way down

its an irish goodbye
when you dont ask why
you just swallow your pride
and you walk outside

wanna put both hands on the yellow line and I wanna pull back the i95 hand over hand till the florida vines and the emo bands are all in sight
theres a thousands visions of PA kitchens and little fences to keep out pigeons and open fridges and tvs that you pull a knob to turn on

nothing's gonna coil down
fuck this shit i'm florida bound
and I live in every jersey town
that hugs the turnpike on the way down

its an irish goodbye
when you dont ask why
you just swallow your pride
and you walk outside

baby you know me I thought you'd understand
theres something about me that just can't be your man
Track Name: Judy Garland
excuse me darlin to disturb you
could you spare a bit of what the lord's left for you
bless your solemn unending virtue
lest your savior up desert you

jesus couldn't quell the pains of americas in trucks and trains and tractor trailers on the range barmen counting their change and goldwin mayer fred astaire slicking back his oily hair snort benzedrine off of a mirror, slaps her ass how are you dear and all the preachers whistle nervous stare down devils in the back of churches, meet their luscious daughter in the smalls beneath the boughs of birches

judy garland hit the bathroom floor of her cold apartment 'bove a chelsea store and all the drag queens and all the whores couldn't get poor judy back up off of her laurels and judy

wanna put my foot down on manhattan
make it float down like a boogie board
see the water bulging through the avenue
watch the cool kids look out their window bored as their mother drops the rolling pin the radio says

judy garland hit the bathroom floor of her cold apartment 'bove a chelsea store and all the drag queens and all the whores couldn't get poor judy back up off of her laurels and judy

judy garland you're a beauty darlin
Track Name: Bad Boy (Kind of Blah)
the military sobs
the missionary jogs
their daughter's cherry popped to various hits round the clock
look at all my shit
fuck you all.gov
pull back the foreskin made of porcelain I wanna fall in love

bad boy

the porch angel sings
the punks moved to queens
the mangers are full up tonight gotta sleep on the f train
wop boppa doobop someone saw a shootout, mama threw your food out, aw the pain, waitresses are chewed out I was eating why'd you do that o im sorry forgot your name

bad boy

---------

played a recording of horns from the 40s
she slipped through my fingers but lingers in the synapses like nicotine, you taste her lips
there something wrong with me when i'm lonely I know
ma its ok
ill call you next couple days