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Nine is Fine

by Exotic Dangers

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speshpro Sweet, well-crafted tunes played with an effortless 60's vibe that is easy to listen to and hard not to enjoy. Check 'em out! Favorite track: How'd You Stay Alive.
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1.
The Baptist sign’s where they’re loading the dice Guys out here got their hearts turned to ice Friend of a mouse or a self-made man But I ain’t a fascist, you just can’t understand Maybe I’m a square, I don’t care Eject you out of my passenger chair Nine is fine, but ten is a sin I got my leather on, strutting the Shoals Ain’t gotta get around to not feel old Shoot ‘em straight, cue ball to eight, holster that fist away At a quarter to three, you’re kissing the ring At fifteen after, you’re cheating on me Plank up your eye and powder your wig And go out skating with the tweens choking cigs Who do you take me for? A fool? ‘Cause I play by the rules? ‘Cause you can’t have your cake and eat it When two’s company, and three’s a crowd, four’s a pit
2.
Thirty Fahrenheit as I was riding by I caught you freezing in the line out the DMV The third time’s a charm if you’re trying hard Sittin’ pretty with that officer on your arm Cobalt and tall, peg legger slacks Sweeter than a dentist’s nightmare If you can’t drive a car, you can drive me Stripin’ diamonds now on the city gig Recreational Department treats me like a kid Stick it to them’s all that I can say in pride If I don’t finish with the outfield they’ll have my hide Shining up my loafs, I’m the first to go I’m saltier than sailor’s blood If I can’t hold a job, can I hold you? Do you know how to touch this American? If you’ll just buy me brunch Don’t you know just how much of our life is gone? Just let me buy you brunch If you can’t drive a car, you can drive me If I can’t hold a job, can I hold you?
3.
What I find in the mirror at the start of every new day Reflected phantom pain in my heart But there ain’t no prescription to fill to take it away Tying off both the steel toes There’s something there behind the side tray A little remnant of romance The red barrette that christened your head When you were my queen Love, love, love, love How’d you stay alive to start another fight? Love, love, love, love Pack it up and move it out Every moment has purpose But I’m struggling to find it in this case Grabbing life by the bullhorns Ain’t everything it’s cracked up to be Turn, turn, turn
4.
Motor City Five all night long As I burned down the silos on my great-great uncle’s farm I heard cicadas screaming along to the great White Panther song The night I watched the ashes fly and my guarding angel die What’s a boy like me to do when I’m only seventeen years through Struttin’ around the college yard with a chip big as a truck Doing everything I know I can for my sanity and my pride Like gunning down my guarding angel right before my eyes Is it too much for me to ask, to look like Brian Jones? To have the story of my life be told by Dee Dee Ramone? ‘Cause Sheffield pawn shops won’t buy underage Man, you know I’ve tried Selling off my future while my guarding angel cries Going down to Greenville, it’s that time There’s a maid of honor in her prime I gotta make her mine tonight There ain’t much left worth fighting for Just to be with who you love I just don’t know how, I need my guarding angel now
5.
Pray Tell 02:52
I was holding up a sign at the airport to show my pride In the taxi cab ride, I could sense I wasn’t even on your mind I once could not control the threshold of my care But if you asked me now, what’s the color of her hair, I wouldn’t know What’s wrong, pray tell Are we growing in life together or just getting old apart? If memory would serve us better, we’ll go back to the start There just aren’t enough hours in a day To construct a truce that can settle up our case The United States just isn’t big enough We’ve seen every park, but you’ve yet to show your heart What’s wrong, pray tell I’ll have the same as her – that’s what we’ve come to But if that’s all there is, leave us be, check please
6.
I choose not to hear them now Noise in the background bleeding out Seven summers and we’re still sitting here I ain’t going nowhere, stay with me dear We’re getting close but there’s a ways to go Still can’t find a down payment on a home What they teach you in driving school? Model citizenship and the rules For living day to day according to popular sway Nine to nine, work all the time If you’ll be waiting on me, I’ll be fine Expectations come with the age Certain stigmas working minimum wage When the pressures of the culture get strong Our love will never keep a record of wrong
7.
Countersuit 02:33
Countersuit against the restaurant dude Accusing you of everything you never did do Some people find it easier to dish it out to others Than eat it themselves and pay for their mothers Put up your dukes and always try to tell the truth Dressing up a lie in white don’t make it right Don’t ask why you gotta eat a humble pie Just be a good sport and an upright guy The Golden Rule, the king of the fools Try to be impressive but you fall in the pool Jumping Jack Flash, running out of gas Living like you’re graded on a curve But you fail or you pass Damage control, is your heart getting cold Kneeling at the altar tryin-a sell out your soul Saturday women and a forty-dollar steak Sunday morning singing high praise Proving that you’re no more a paperback kid Wearing on your collar that fraternity bid But counting a keg stand don’t make you a real man Looking in hindsight, you’ll understand
8.
After all the corks are shot And I’ll stand up next to you As my hand falls off of my chest Sending out secret signals and cues A base coach signin’ out what to do Sense ‘em out here calling your name Heaven help me, this timing’s to blame Horween steerhide’s my patriot color Hail to the Chief is such a pitiful number While you’re downtown just counting the hours I’ll be red and white and blue Doing what it takes to pay my dues Roman candles saluting you The first time I climbed in your truck Heard Kid Smoke on the stereo I knew from then that that was it You really got me now, you really got me Heard it first in the passenger seat Something special, something sugary sweet Fourth of July, but you’re in Tennessee USA all the way to the parking lot Call in sick but don’t you get caught now Firebomb on the water, take a picture quick Make this one to last more than a minute
9.
I know exactly what it feels like when a heartbeat just stops With an ear pressed tight to the chest It falls down but won’t come back As a winner all your life, you never had to face up to the facts I made it my goal to keep it like that Some things are better off locked in the glass Don’t utter a thing at all, ‘cause your breath’s too pure for the silence This moment just isn’t the time to turn on the lights towards the shadow If heartache’s a vapor like life, we won’t give up mid-stride We’re not the ones who call out the fates, we just got our parts to play Love is patient and hopes all things, and blinds all imperfections There’s compassion and protection, even now, in death, in resurrection If heartache’s a vapor like life, we won’t give up mid-stride We’re not the ones who call out the fates, we just got our parts to play
10.
With the windows up, all I can hear Is the fear of the sunshine from behind the clouds What was that she said? I seem a little distracted She’s talking to me, I don’t care, or do I? Maybe I’ll miss you, maybe Maybe I’ll miss you, maybe Maybe I’ll miss you, maybe Maybe not, it’s too soon to tell At the corner cafe, espressos and cake Everything’s ok, a picture perfect date What’s it like to know, is it right or wrong? Should I really come clean or just hide behind the dirt? Was that a wink and nod I saw From the man inside that car? If they met a time before, I’ll take it as a sign
11.
Six years young in Chicago Seven feet of snow everywhere you Walk half a mile to school every day We’re sledding and we don’t wanna go Rode a paper route in the summertime Landed one through the neighbor’s French door Made best friends with a leather belt Found my black phantom in the garbage can Poppa’s sippin’ something on the sofa Working up to two packs a day He’s the king of the bowling lane Saturday Nailing sheetrock on the rest Momma’s wearing makeup in the kitchen I guess that’s why the bacon tastes good She got high heeled slippers and an apron on ‘Cause that’s the way Sears liked her best Remember Ritchie Valens and the plane crash Remember Buddy Holly and The Bopper I cried myself to sleep for a week and a half That’ll Be the Day just ain’t the same Elvis joined the army and forsook us all Traded rock and roll for a buzz cut Jerry Lee and Myra Gale tied a knot Those were the days the music died Kid’s fashion is a hard line of work When all you’ve got to go on is headlines and dirt 1959 was a good year 1959 was a good year A Fender Stratocaster and a tweed amp Is all you ever needed to be famous
12.
Barbie Car 03:32
Why… only the lonely know how you feel tonight Gotta try… find a new crowd to go hide in plain sight No homework to do and nothing’s on the tube Thinking life is cruel for playing you the fool Hold up, think it through Is it butterflies or are you just blue? At the party in costume Hoping that he’ll be there and know it’s you Picking up the phone is liking picking up a coal Pedal to the floor of your top-down Barbie car Stalking Tyrone Rush He was your celebrity crush in ‘93 and ‘94 But he ain’t playing football anymore Get up and get out and don’t cry and don’t you pout Dancing to no one, face on, get your go-gos, and shut ‘em down

about

”When 'Brown Sugar' comes on the radio, everyone wigs out to it and someone inevitably says, 'Man, they just don’t make songs like they used to.' Why not? That’s what I want to do. That’s the music I like.”

Consider it Daniel Crisler’s musical manifesto. Keep listening to him:

“The founding fathers wrote and played what felt good, rolled tape, counted it off, and boom. It is in many ways, a lost and dying art – seemingly primitive, impractical, unsophisticated, and not financially viable. But, hey, if that’s how our favorite hits were made, I wanted to give it a shot and see what happened.”

Welcome to the world of Exotic Dangers, a four-piece rock-and-roll outfit from The Shoals, Alabama. Straight out of the gate, the band has garnered a loyal following— the result of four people taking the noises they love and distilling them into a full-fledged sound. On their new album, Nine is Fine, the group creates music that jolts through the needle and leaps out of your speakers. This isn’t a new thing for Crisler, though.

“Living in Florence, Alabama my entire life, I have definitely had all of my fingers in music projects of some form or fashion – rock, folk, songwriter, experimental, church, indie (is that still a thing?), hardcore, punk, country, pop… a little bit of everything,” Crisler says.

His personal experience, along with that of his razor-sharp band (Maggie Crisler on farfisa/percussion, Brady Gomillion on bass and Jon Mosley on drums) informs his latest material.

“The main thought process behind the band is this: play music that I like and write lyrics that I like,” Crisler explains. “Our musical direction is most definitely rooted in mid-‘60s soil – hence the old Farfisa organ, 12-string electric, hand percussion, and no effects pedals.”

While the band’s rapturous live performances have left a wake of acclaim, it’s not because of a lot of bells and whistles. Crisler prefers a simple, no-nonsense approach on the stage. “Starting out, I knew I wanted a simple and basic instrumentation for the group, Crisler adds. “Less is more.”

“We knew we just had to track it live and onto tape – what you get in the heat of the moment is what you stick with; there was no discussion,” Crisler says. “We cut six songs with just a handful or takes, in just a handful of hours.”

Knowing all of this, you might be tempted to label Exotic Dangers as a throwback outfit, or a retro cash-in. You’d be wrong, though. “I, by no means, want to be a throwback band; that’s not what this is. We just like older music, older clothing styles, and older methods,” Crisler says. “Take it as you will. We just like it.”

“We’ve got the itch.”

credits

released May 24, 2019

Recorded and mixed by Ben Tanner
All songs written by Daniel Elias Crisler
and performed by Exotic Dangers:

Daniel Elias Crisler - guitar, vocals
Maggie Crisler - Farfisa, percussion
Brady Gomillion- bass
Jon Mosley- drums

Cover photo by Abraham Rowe
Album design by Maggie Crisler

Mastered by Richard Dodd

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Exotic Dangers Florence, Alabama

A Shoals, Alabama Rock 'n' Roll band. Showcasing honey-sweet melodies, hip-popping beats, 12-string chime, humbucker punch, and dry-bone Farfisa foundations.

Daniel Elias Crisler - guitars, vocals. Brady Gomillion - bass guitars. Maggie Crisler - Farfisa, percussion. Jon Mosley - drums.
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