Interim Deliverable

by Leverage Models

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  • Cassette + Digital Album

    Limited edition cassette EP released on Hometapes. 1st EP released by Leverage Models. Hometapes sadly defunct, i.e. THERE WILL BE NO REPRESS.

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04:08
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about

A solo bedroom studio recording, Interim Deliverable is the 1st Leverage Models release -- the 1st of 3 EPs released after Shannon Fields disbanded Stars Like Fleas and left Brooklyn for rural New York state. Initially made to share with friends, it was then pressed only on cassette tape recordings released by the sadly defunct Hometapes record label. The lead single, 'Dreaming Of Accidents' wound its way around the planet and earned Leverage Models a feature story in The Guardian.

credits

released March 22, 2011

Jon Natchez: Saxophones (1,3)
Jeff Gretz: roto-toms (1)

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all rights reserved

tags

about

Leverage Models Warren, New York

Leverage Models makes pop songs about transubstantiation, ritual abuse, political apathy, divorce, white collar criminals, poverty, white liberal guilt, anxiety, & self-harm. with roto-toms.

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Track Name: Tonight When I Burn
(Bear in mind I am losing most of my steady eye)

Bring it on (at the call of “Ready!”)...on helpless prey. Donʼt misname. Pretend weʼre ready now to be different then our dad. We helped
him do the dark stuff that sits inside and flowers.

HA HA! Whatʼd I tell you? But you never can tell someone so easily in love. Ha HA, you donʼt learn too well: born trash. Bred and buried low. But we know how to dress it up all ready to go
You know that Iʼm already unknown.

All that I learned:
(1) how to get lost,
(2) how to be owned (the least that a kid can know)

Remained here when most just moved away.
Tonight, when I burn that husk of a car dad left to you, I wonʼt even know Iʼm invincible (but weʼll never get burned again).

Blurry again. Treat the dog and watch the snow descend. I could come outside [&] see the things that we lifted above the DECENCY line: where the house depends – and GOD depends – on a definite end wherein we help him bring the dark, us-shaped, ugly, damaged killing.

START
HA HA! Whatʼd I tell you? But you never can tell some one easily in love. Ha HA, you donʼt learn too well: boy-trash, bred and buried low.
But we know how to dress it up all ready to go
(You know that Iʼm already a “No”).

Tonight, when I burn that husk of a car dad left to you, I wonʼt even know that Iʼm invincible
and will never get burned again.
Track Name: Dreaming of Accidents
Set a precedent for charity dates – go ahead – the others are all stale-mated (what did you expect?). Heidi was hit by a car yesterday. She did not hear because she had her [head]phones on, (she was) listening to YOU! She was okay, but (she was) finished this time. We drink ourselves to sleep, dreaming of more accidents. We wreck. We crash (we can!).

Burn their flags, make them hide their faces. Prepare to get away. We should have gone too far, but this is who we are (anyway, we have the right to go). Iʼll type stories that make you safe (YEAH!). History should have to fucking wait. When party-lines save their lives, watch, watch: they will be back to erase you.

We dreamed ourselves to sleep, dreaming of more accidents.
Track Name: Playing With Models
It wasnʼt dark so we waited inside. We fashioned dolls out of careless talk – ready to play on either side now. Some artifacts (instead of us) sat to take our food. They hide this stuff -- entire countries in their uterine rooms: itʼs the ugliest thing. It isnʼt just that we canʼt a hold a job, or that the animals have voted us gone, for we have come to wall ourselves in: into your fatherʼs room, out of the waiting line, into the QuikStops (the places that we go when we die).

Get down / Look home / Baby, you will never grow
Maybe weʼll grow old wrapped in diagrams / You cut a decent frame / Maybe I could take the blame, maybe we can be bold.

The gentle things have gone and left us waiting (so long) with cases full of sentimental cards. WHOA! Some days are fine, some just shine, throwing off light like kids off a battleship painting pinups on their bombs.

Walled behind back in 1974: Behind a wall built of needles and skin I found the belt that your daddy lives in (ready to play with a modelʼs leverage). We watch regime-change attempt to make jobs by knitting handbags to hold all the love (and itʼs the funniest thing that sheʼs done to herself).

Now that weʼre civilized, now that we speak weʼve jailed ourselves (entire countries in our uterine schools): itʼs where hospitals come to get old. Into your fatherʼs room, out of the waiting line, into the quick stops (the places that we goad when we die).

The gentle things have gone and left us waiting (so long) with cases full of sentimental cards. WHOA! Some days are fine. Some just shine (throwing off light like kids off a battleship painting pinups) on their bombs.

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