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by Binger

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1.
2.
05:57
3.
05:47
4.
06:40

credits

released July 7, 2018

Binger is:
Dalton Muzzy - Drums, percussion
Shakir Stephen - Bass guitar, vocals
Braden Winslow - Electric / acoustic guitars, vocals

All songs written by Binger

Featuring:
Eric Maier - Keyboards, synthesizers, hugs
Stephanie Heaghney - Additional vocals, additional hugs

Engineered / produced / mixed by Eric Maier at Future Fields, Burlington, VT
Additional production by Binger
Mastered by Alex Wharton at Abbey Road Studios, London, England
Visual art by Kevin Bloom

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all rights reserved

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about

Binger Burlington, Vermont

Based out of Burlington, VT, Binger channel the diverse musical scene of New England through their ever expanding exploration of all music accessible to the airwaves.
Characterised by their love of jazz, need to rock, and natural attraction to improvisational groove, Binger try to keep their music as fresh and interesting as 2016 will allow.
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Track Name: Check Your Pockets
(Shakir)
Your chest moves at the same pace as mine
We're red blood cells mediating time (Where red blood cells mediate in time)
I said I feel fine,
But you're never satisfied with that,
Too justified and occupied to alkaline my acid side
Too scared to get too close to top speed
Or put in the effort needed to make sure I succeed
I'm begging for attention from myself, but still getting rejected
Connected by the physical I beg all of you, I beg all of you
Our two-person crew, I'm thinking someone made me for you...
I'm thinking someone made me for you.

'Cause I'm tryna reach up
while I'm tryna reach down
and I'm just about to break down.
Check your pockets for your life

I check my pockets cuz I'm lacking the empathy
To modify my time to understand your complexity
It should be enough that you're standing right next to me
Waving from another shore, laced in reality
Everything's a story but the stories never line up
Intersecting symbols of a life that didn't sign up for anything
Accept true alienation
In the bone cage, thought's just procrastination

'Cause I'm tryna reach up
while I'm tryna reach down
and I'm just about to break down.
Check your pockets for your life
Track Name: Memory.exe
(Shakir)
I guess I'm still guessing, stressing, caressing my ego
Long enough to drop bombs on my closest amigos 
And all you hard work turns to letters, but letters are mean
It's fucked up, I'm here bugging at a line on a screen
But what does that mean? Who gets cut out? What gets negated?
By the personhood translated that a Mac screen created
Cuz a phone in your hand; a mind on the outside
Forced to face itself with a diluted decayed pride and a mitigated brain
Kinda like a cheap beer
It doesn't taste as good but it'll get me from here to there
Circle to square, living to living well
Blowing lies outta my eyes from the heat of a digital hell
I wouldn't say I'm trapped, cuz I know that I'm free
Although the "norm" will crush the spirit if it must disagree
Somehow I think we're kinda passed a gendered anthropomorphic description of an an energy pervading in the depths on an encryption code
Yet through technology the humans are gone
Because the Uncanny Valley, was always a con
And even though our glasses help us see clear
You won't be quite as happy when your eyes disappear 

Robots are already here with their lives in their hands
Data scripts in their portable pineal glands
Microchips in the miniature promised land
So won't you tell me who's on?

Humans die by design

(Braden)
I think my brain been frayed
We all absorbed, reforming normalcy in our ways
Forged among the firewalls and analog blaze
Our discourse rearranged, even Liquid fell pray to these changes
Now they're crawling in my mental
All these bots in my thoughts, antiquated exponentials
Can't forget fast enough, I can barely keep up
With the tech it's a must to progress
Guess I just gotta
Try and be elastic, megabits and plastic
Wrap around my wrist and stay affixed beyond the casket
That's the tactic is to worm in, subvert my cerebellum
Til I find myself complicit in the future they're foretelling
(But what's it looking like?)
A fabricated way of life
Digitize the mind's horizon in the modern zeitgeist
Memory dot E X E
I burn my brain into CD
and then upload and re-encode my DNA to data streams now
Oh jeez! I'm hearing all my thoughts in mp3
See in 720p
Run at 3k M H Z
'Til reality be looking like it does within my screen
and the ghost in the machine begins to resemble me

I see the androids are already here
with their lives in their hands,
data scripts in the portable pineal gland
Microchips in the miniature promised land
So don't you ask me who's on

Humans die by design
Track Name: Spaces
(Shakir)
I suppose I feel torn
There seems to be a schism in my community 
Born with a propensity to chase all opportunity 
But pulled in two directions by a basic bent attraction
Characterized by the other side, as a basic self-distraction
A reaction to a turbulent relationship 
I'm trying to explain to you, I can't just go abandon ship
Maybe there's a way to help keep both of you so satisfied
Everyone seems fine with touting emblematic matricide and patricide 
As if they could deny their inner worth
It doesn't really matter if you help your own rebirth
See I would never shed the blood, or take the life on one's eternally perfected state
Unless of course we stop looking externally 

In the spaces in between I could buckle down and work out what I mean
Based on everything I've seen, I can stop the machine
In the spaces in between the world could buckle down and work out what we mean

Cuz I commit these crimes on the daily, interior
I trusted myself, but saw my motives were ulterior 
You download me through all of this, upload on the smallest miss
It's hard to feel the loving when you promise contradicting bliss 
Now they both sustain themselves, but soon they will diminish
Or one of them will shut me out and let the heartache finish
Which is fair enough so justified, my lies are perfect, bonafied
Manipulation, late causation, selfish dehumanization
It cause a rift inside, a rift that just gets amplified 
By winning here, winning there, acting like I never care
But soon the roads diverge too much to keep my feet on both of them
Soon my words diverge too much to keep my feet on...

All the spaces in between, I could buckle down and work out what I mean
Based on everything I've seen, I can't stop the machine
And in the spaces in between the world could buckle down and work out what we mean

(Braden)
Spaces in between
What I said and what I mean.
Pick a path to choose
Would you know which to take?
Trying desperately
To have my cake and eat it too,
But come up empty handed 
Hungry, yet again.
Falling to his knees,
plagued by thoughts of what could be,
lament the lack of time 
to devote to it all.
Opportunity
presents itself infrequently
but is it worth the risk?

I gotta admit I feel afraid
of passion in obscurity.
Career advice: I'm not enticed
by normative security,
yet formative maturity
at the cusp of two decisions
yields a breaking point between
an ensured later and provisional fulfillment.
Appointing unbiased hierarchies,
where success is oftentimes defined
in numbers and degrees,
but all the money in the world
would never set your mind at ease
from the turmoil you feel from 
compromising on your dreams. It's got you 
breeding elements of cynicism on the regular,
defining all activities by that which they're not.
Breeding elements of cynicism on the regular,
convinced yourself throughout the years you couldn't be bought.

(Shakir)
In the spaces in between I could buckle down and work out what I mean
Based on everything I've seen, I can slow the machine
And in the spaces in between the world could buckle down and work out what we mean
Track Name: Sideways
(Braden)
I toed the line
from angel wings 
or
devil's dance. They're only 

all products of
subjective
circumstance. I often think

of the difference in you and I
and how
I could never claim to 

know, nor could I 
presume to
understand, what you've been through.

Our nostalgia is
someone else's
summer home
How could they have ever known?

So at the end of it all we stand
at this
precipice of seismic 

shifts in how we see ourselves.
Right or wrong, it's
relativity. I'm just

doing the best I can
with
all I have to give. I 

hope it's enough
for me.
I hope that's enough for you.

Our getaway is
someone else's
sweat and bone
How could I have ever known?

(Shakir)
I'm homesick, even though I'm still home
Gotta step outside of this dome, gotta leave my head
Even though you're not dead, Imma try to forget everything that you said
Make a king of the world when you sleep in my bed
Its a good thing I sound well-read, forget street cred
I'm lucky to be alive, climbed outta that jungle, barely survived 
Rarely surprised, squarely deprived, fairly surmised by the time I arrived in your life
You didn't even have a choice, I demanded you mind with my voice
Move passed the old, get with the new
Try to escape the world you construe
With atlas and map, words just collapse
When you think about them
Just a little sideways

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