Splitsville

ULTRASOUND

LET'S GO!

Brandt: I still can't tell if it was a mistake to record this song. Matt's idea for the "one, two, three" at the beginning; I wanted a drum buildup (figure that). Yes, that's "My Sharona" in the middle.
Matt: Great album opener, though some people just don't get it.
Paul: The syncopated starts and stops preceding the Knack lick were mine, as I recall. The rest was all Brandt's. He's a misunderstood genius, really.

Let's go! to the part where
you and me are
k-i-s-s-i-n-g. . . .
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THE MISFITS

Matt: I always liked how Elvis Costello would mix lyrics about love with lyrics about completely different topics in a song. I tried to do this with this song, which I was originally going to title "In The Land Of Misfit Toys", but then everyone would think it was a joke song too.
Paul: I've always loved this song....
Brandt: Most people think the title refers to the band of the same name.

Think I found some missing parts
In the mechanics of my heart
And the circuits in my brain
Are abused and damaged
I can never fall asleep
Do you lie awake nights counting sheep,
Because you're incomplete?

Then let's make believe
There's nothing wrong with us . . . .

Evil thoughts run through my mind
And visions of lies I've left behind
If there's blame in chasing dreams
I'll admit it's my fault
But it gets harder every day
They blow you until you're blown away
With nothing left to say

So let's make believe
There's nothing wrong with us . . . .
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YEARBOOK

Listen to this song

Matt: In my opinion the most obvious single I've ever written. My friend Jen Marsh insisted I put Precious Moments Figurines into a song, and I think I accomplished this quite well, thank you.
Paul: In a just universe this one would have been the theme song for every senior prom in America in '97. The very definition of a great power-ballad.
Brandt: Give it a chance, Paul, give it a chance.

I've got a homeroom in my heart
A lesson plan I should have started once
But never did
Grade incomplete
I've got your yearbook in my head
It's filled with words I never said
Handwriting legible but none too neat

What can I do?
Pictures of you
Keep making me turn back pages
To redefine
These moments in time
But what does it matter anyway?

A Precious Moments figurine
Shoplifted porno magazines
Each frozen memory tastes bittersweet
Just like the night of our fist kiss
The fleeting glimpse of future bliss
Turned out to be the class
That I won't repeat

Each snapshot comes with it's own
Cache of conflictin' feelings
Four years of public wounds
Which probably won't end up healin'
Administered by teacher
Principal and guidance counselor
It almost makes me wish
I had the sense to stay the hell out

And what can I do?
Pictures of you
Keep making me turn back pages
To redefine
These moments in time
That I'll probably never understand. . . .
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YOUR WAY, MY WAY

Brandt: I wrote this song around the bass line in the chorus. Potential GBW track, which turned into a song about GBW. Some cool "Police" moves on this one.
Paul: That's distorted bass with a one-octave pitch-shift added to it to get that rude sound on the backing tracks during Matt's Andy Summers guitar solo. It's a trick I've been using live ever since the very first Splitsville gig.
Matt: Another one of my faves, live and on wax.

And when you say to me
"You don't care how I feel"
I don't see what you see
Your words deceive you
They're always black or white
They're always right or wrong
Why can't we put it off
Until tomorrow . . . .

And when you say to me
"You can't get there from here"
I guess that really means
You never been there

You do it your way
I'll do it my way . . . .
Every single day the same thing
GO!

And when you say to me
"Hey, this is how I feel"
I think that you should know
I don't believe you

You do it your way
I'll do it my way . . . .
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MR. YUCK

Paul: The title and lyrics hearken back to the U.S.A. period and its obsession with pop culture jocularity. Big tip o' the hat to Brandt for helping to bang the chorus and overall structure into shape. He and Matt are always saving me from my penchant toward the overly complex and forcing me to stick with the hook. The soundbyte at the start of the track comes from an old instructional record in Dave Nachodsky's archives entitled "Play Rock Guitar Today." It's a hint to those playing along at home that we tune our guitars in D#, not E.
Matt: I think this is probably the best produced track on the album, and I'm glad we excised the lyric "So turn and run from my unappetizing frown." Sorry Dusty....
Brandt: I can't believe we put a drum solo in this song.

She's gonna bring you sorrow
and I should know
She's gonna make you suffer
She's no good for your health
and I should know
'Cuz I'm the one that loves her

That girl can make a man get sick for sure

She's in a pretty package, but she's poisonous
I'm quite attached to her, but she's dangerous
So here's a warning to the other guys in town
I'm stickin' around

If you know what's good for you
Stay away
Don't want this indigestion
Don't want this burn in your heart
Stay away
Don't want this green complexion

Don't want this ugly grimace on your face

She's gonna bring you sorrow
And I should know
'Cuz I'm the one that loves her. . .
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HUSKER DU

Brandt: One of my favorite bands. The song sort of rips off "Classical Gas" (I didn't intend it to). The vocals in the bridge were all done in one take.
Matt: Unfortunately so were the ending vocals. Sorry, Johnny... Like much of this album and Pet Soul, they were sung together on one mic.

The winter was not much worse
Remember the times we had
Is there nothin' to make this work ?

Do you remember ?

You said this was just a game
I said you were much to kind
And what is it in a name ?
You said that's not hard to find

Do you remember ?
Sometimes I forget myself

The drummer was not too bad
The singer was not much worse
I'm feeling like I've been had
There is nothing to make this work

Do you remember . . . .
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LET'S PLAY GROWN UP

Matt: Sure, it's similar to "That's Entertainment". But it's bleak. Sue me.
Paul: One of my personal favorites from Ultrasound. A sad and touching song, really. I consider Matt's lyrics to be a foreshadowing of Repeater's theme of the realities of adulthood. Of course, no one ever gets it. They can't seem to get past the fact that the title sounds light and juvenile. It's called "irony," people -- look it up.
Brandt: The untitled track at the end of the album is supposed to be a thematic reprise of this song.

You used to play grown-up in
your mother's old dress
Now you sit and wonder how your
life became a mess
And some day you'll get used to it

Poor little dreamer with a naughty force of will
You misbehave, son, better getcha on that pill
And some day you'll get used to it
Just wait
It's fun to pretend
Then again, what a drag getting old

Pour out your memories from a bottle of gin
Wake in the morning feelin' miserable again
And some day you'll get used to it
Just wait. You'll get used to it
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MARY GO ROUND

Matt: Either this or "Supergeek" was going to go on the last Greenberry Woods album, "Big Money Item." I'm glad we chose "Supergeek", because this one would have been destroyed, and I like it. It's inspired by one of the lovely ladies who ran the GBW fan club (her daughter plays flute on "Caroline Knows").
Brandt: Always a hit live.

Anything you wanna be
Is O.K., at least with me
'Cuz I hate to see you down
When the music stops
Mary go round . . . .

I can tell you what to do
If I ever find a clue
Sometimes lost just means not found
Now does that make sense ?
Mary go round . . . .

Doesn't it seem curious ?
Love can make you furious
But it's the brass ring
You want more than anything

Anything you wanna be
Is O.K., at least with me
Your philosophy is sound
Though it makes me sad . . . .
Mary go round
And round and round and round . . . .
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HOME

Paul: I'm quite proud of this one. It imagines the alien who (allegedly) crashed in New Mexico as a sort of intergalactic weary trucker. Drifting toward Earth, he's blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him. ("He ended up in Army crates," to quote Frank Black.) It was Matt's idea to have me sing all the different vocal parts myself -- a sort of bravado gesture that says,"Sure, we've got these two brilliant singers in our band, but I can make this song kick ass without even using them."
Matt: He had done a rough draft on 4-track and Brandt and I thought it could have gone on the album as is. I think I suggested the piano part.
Brandt: That's me tapping a pencil on a notebook at the beginning.

Steerin' by the light of the stars
This machine is breaking down
and so am I
This time I've gone too far
I'm low on fuel
and all the laws
of motion and gravity
say I'm slowin' down

I might as well
Land in Roswell . . . .

I've been alone up here for so so long
a few new faces just might do me good
Don't think I could go wrong
to set down here
'cuz I believe
as things go
I could do worse than
a southwestern American town

I might as well
Land in Roswell . . . .

I been in flight for so long
I hardly know
what it feels like
to walk on solid ground
And if I never return
then you will know
that I've made this
desert town my home

See me descending... out of the blue sky...
Over the desert... streaming out white light...
See me descending... out of the blue sky...
Down in the desert... I think I found my home...
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RACER X

Matt: This is for all intents and purposes a techno song done by a pop band. It was originally called Mach 5, until The Presidents of the United States came out with a song with the same title.
Paul: Matt and I had a ball with overdubs on this one - MiniMoog (which I think he did), E-bow, Spaghetti-Western guitar and, again, the octave-shifted fuzz bass. Love his weird, dreamy lyrics and the Kim Deal-like falsetto part he had me do.

sail through the void...
in the blink of an eye...
soar past the stars...
pave your way through the sky...
the road and the speed...
fuel your desire...
she is the light...
and your guide...
through the night...

the soul of your machine...
is forged out of fire...
she is the light...
and your guide...
through the night...
through the night...
through the night...
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PONCE DE LEON

Brandt: It took forever for me to figure out the bass line in the bridge, but it was worth it. Matt did a great job of playing it. The piano was from my mom's house; the one Matt and I took lessons on. Paul played all the guitar and kicked ass. This song was one of the last ones to make it on the album.
Paul: Brandt strapped on my bass and played & sang this to me. I knew instantly what he wanted me to play on piano. Sometimes it just clicks like that. I clearly remember being the cheerleader for this song to make it onto the album.
Matt: I actually fought this, like an idiot, because it was a piano song on an otherwise guitar album. However, I came to my senses, and now it is a Splitsville classic, if I may be so bold.

Just like Ponce de Leon
I've travelled far and wide
When all is said and done
Have I enjoyed the ride ?
You're puttin' me on
Is this the best it gets ?
I haven't jumped the ship
This trip's not over yet

Everywhere I go
I see the world around me
Growing small, moving faster
Will this be my disaster ?
Everyone I know
Has counted up their losses
While I'm still climbing mountains
Tossing coins into fountains

Just like Ponce de Leon
I'm running out of time
I've conquered all my fears
I've suffered for my crimes
You're leadin' me on
It's either sink or swim
And when I think I'm done
I'm ready to begin

Everyone I know
Has given up on daydreams
Socked away their possessions
Got enslaved to professions
Everywhere I go
I'm thirstin' for a chance
To show the world that I'm clever
So I might live forever. . . .

Just like Ponce de Leon. . . .
End up at a rest home in south Florida
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HERE COME THE BASTARDS

Paul: We don't usually start with just the music. But for this one I had the instrument parts for the verses, bridge and jazzy ending, but absolutely no idea what to sing over them. With the album almost finished, all we had was an instrumental with Brandt's chorus of "All together now." I had such horrible writer's block. It was the only time in the history of this band that I could have just cried in front of my bandmates. Then, very late at night, Matt called to sing his idea for a vocal over the phone to me. He laid it down the next day, and Ultrasound was complete.
Matt: I was pissed off (typical), but it came together quickly at the end. No one wants to see Dusty cry...

You thought you found buried treasure
When you learned to masturbate
No one else could share your pleasure
'Cuz they always come too late

All together now!

People are like TV dinners
Eat them or they'll go to waste
You don't have to like them that much
Just as long as they have taste

All together now!

Here come the bastards
The ones you love to hate
Sharp tongues, stiff drinks
Smoke 'em if ya got 'em
'Cuz tomorrow it could be too late
Too late
Much too late . . . .

If you want to join the party
All you gotta do is breathe
Ya better learn to cut the crap 'n'
shoot your mouth off
'Cuz they love to watch you bleed

All together now!
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SCREW UP

Brandt: This is the first love song I wrote for Splitsville. I think the whistle solo is cool but I can't always get it live.
Matt: I think I know who it's about... but I'm not telling!

When you told me that you knew
I wondered what we were gonna do
And when you told me that you cared
I wondered if I ever really dared

Now I could use a break today
All you ever do is screw up my life . . .
You're screwin' up my life

Recollections of the time
And what was yours was very nearly mine
Whispered vowings to be true
And wonderin' what the hell we're gonna do

Now I could use a break today
And all you ever do is screw up my life . . .
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THE KIDS WHO KILL FOR SUGAR

Brandt: Like "Here Comes the Bastards," I think this song is strong, because we had an equal share in the writing. Over the top.
Matt: I actually came up with the verse and chorus, and after bringing it up didn't want to continue with it because I didn't like the line "'cause the kids hate Power Pop". I thought there was a chance our band would assume that label. Guess I was right... and someone should mention that the hidden track was a hint at our potential for orchestra pop. Originally considered as a continuation of "Let's Play Grown Up", it tops off the album quite nicely, thank you.
Paul: One of our big ideas when we started out was to have a Townshend/Entwistle/Moon aesthetic: simple guitar, complicated bass, frantic drums. (Hence, those ludicrous bass solos and spastic drum fills on U.S.A.) This song, for me, is the full realization of our desire to spend at least a few moments pretending to be The Who or The Jam.

When we take our bored and embittered youth
And presweeten them with their breakfast food
Should we grind 'em down like a rotten tooth
When these additives lead to attitude ?

'Cuz the kids hate Power Pop
But they need that sugar shock

So we praise the meat,
and we curse the bread
And we're on our knees
like the good book said
Then it's no surprise
when they lose their heads
And we find ourselves
strangled in our beds

'Cuz the kids hate Power Pop
But they need that sugar shock

The kids of today
Well, they're losin' their faith . . . .
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(can you handle
birthday candles ?

cradle, schoolbus
playground, first crush

high school, prom date
paychecks, roomates

wedding flowers
baby showers

mortgage, pension
did I mention ?
Someone is there at the door . . . .)
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