The Dignity of Man

by These Estates

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    Limited pressing by Palomino Records Pressing, Shepherdsville, KY. Jacket by Morphius Manufacturing, Baltimore, MD. Mastered for vinyl by Chris Goosman, Baseline Audio Labs, Ann Arbor, MI.

    Jacket features an essay by Dan MacRae and photos by Sunny Adams and Paul Bogdan. Comes with lyric insert.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Dignity of Man via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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about

Performed 26 January 2013 at Tri-State Sound, Regina, SK.
Seven microphones were used.
Overdubs: cassette deck solos on “Lovee,” all vocals.

credits

released 22 February 2014

John Cameron: 5'10"
Matt Carr: 6'2"
Mason Pitzel: 6'0"

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about

These Estates regina

We used to be a four-piece and play power-pop-ish stuff. Nowadays we're a three-piece and everything's a little riffier and it sounds more midrangey. There's probably a metaphor for living in Regina somewhere in there.

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Track Name: When the Lovee Breaks
It’s not a torch, it’s a cigarette,
but it’s still a sacred kind of flame,
and it leads you back to the place where
you feel youthful again:
flickering light on a basement wall,
ritual beat of the drum.
And, for once, your face is not just a mask
you’re staring outward from.

Well, it’s the way we live now. It’s always somehow just
a little tighter, a little tighter. And
it takes a couple beats just to figure it out, and get
a little tighter, a little tighter.

And I want you to keep me appraised -
if you call I’ll be waiting outside,
cause when the lovee breaks
we’re gonna have ourselves a real good time.

Down from your heart through your aching calves,
a particular kind of sin
waits for its cue,
a simple four-count in.
“I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait”:
that’s the refrain of the song.
So for once, you’re not gonna leave
til the lights come on, til the lights come on.

It’s the way we live now. It’s always somehow just
a little tighter, a little tighter. And
it takes a couple beats just to figure it out, and get
a little tighter now.

And I want you to keep me appraised* —
if you call I’ll be waiting outside,
cause when the lovee breaks
we’re gonna have ourselves a real good time.
I need you to keep faith
and to keep me in the back of your mind,
cause when the lovee breaks
we’re gonna have ourselves a real good time.
Oh my God, we’re gonna have ourselves a real good time.

When the love I see
is the love I need to break and
when the love I feel
is a love I’m recreating —
when the love you breathe
takes all your time
then it enters me
and becomes mine,
well here it comes

it’s just the way we live now, it always somehow just takes a couple beats just to figure it out and to
keep yourself away from that crippling self-doubt.
Track Name: Stone Cold Summer
Nothing quite like nostalgia
to make you feel a little bit older,
feel like you’re looking at a photograph
of somebody else’s sun.
Nothing quite like trying to sell yourself
as a part of the world as composed of products.
Nothing like trying to tell yourself
that you’re the only one.

I tried to save a date
but it got messed up, it got messed up.
Tried to reserve a space
but it got messed up, it got messed up.
Tried not to make mistakes
but I got messed up, I got messed up.

It’s tough sometimes to understand
that an image is not the image we’re expecting
but an image of an image
that we saw once long ago
It’s tough sometimes to understand
why we act as if we’re interacting
with the picture of the thing.
It’s impossible, but we know.
Track Name: Highway 11 Theme
We’ve got some miles now,
so let’s find things to say;
you don’t owe me anything,
so let’s call it a giveaway.
Or crank the stereo:
“She Says What She Means.”
(And I’m amending my own lines
to accomplish the same thing.)

High beams on & jackets off,
forty minutes to Davidson,
and the wind is not enough
to replace the blasting sun.

I know you’re tired & you don’t wanna go back.
And I am sick of working on these same four lines.
I’ve got no stories left to help us pass the time,
but we’ve still got a hell of a drive.

We could just stop the car
and shed our earthly forms.
Leave our bones in a ditch;
we won’t need them anymore.
Avoid the impossible —
you can’t set a night on fire,
and we’ve got subtler means
and simpler desires.

Do a buck and then two dimes.
It’s flat and dark, it’s true,
but I drive it all the time,
and it’s easier with you.

I know you’re tired & you don’t wanna go back.
And I am sick of working on these same four lines.
I’ve got no stories left to help us pass the time,
but we’ve still got a hell of a drive.
Track Name: Stripes of Faith
I’ve got chords in the back of my throat,
and they jangle to life when you say hello:
“The bartender here has the most perfect pour —
so clean and precise, so self-assured,
and brightened by flames off the peel of an orange.
Find me a man who could ask you for more
(and if you can find him, then show him the door, cause
he’s not worth our time).”

Sugar and lime and juniper gin,
I’ll raise a glass to you, my friend.
Speak of it once, and never again;
the stripes of faith that did you in.

Resting my arms on the fine polished oak
I’ll quip a bon mot, tell a good joke.
If there’s change in your pockets, then you’re in luck —
come on boys, it’s time to get fucked.
Pilsner & highballs & Maker’s Mark, neat,
Just don’t try to line up your feet
You’ll be down on your ass and then out on the street,
it just isn’t a great idea.

Sugar and lime and juniper gin,
I’ll raise a glass to you, my friend.
Speak of it once, and never again;
the stripes of faith that did you in.

Bodies like satellites clutter the space
But we’ll stick around, since we’ve been here since 8
And avoid any talk about Catholic beliefs
When you’re trying to get laid, they get stuck in your teeth.
And then there’s the lights and it’s time to go home —
I put my hand up, and say, “One for the road.”
The sense that I’m getting’s that I’m on my own
But I’ll be waiting here.

Sugar and lime and juniper gin,
I’ll raise a glass to you, my friend.
Speak of it once, and never again;
the stripes of faith that did you in.
Track Name: Brushed Steel
Inches and columns,
notaries of the self,
sweat in the tinctures:
reminders of something else.
Heated to boiling.
Bubbling through the cracks,
steaming through fissures,
burning our chance to relax –

feral love.
You’ve got a feral love,
and I hope that it rips me to shreds.

Sinew and follicles.
Locations of pressure points.
Aches in the muscles
lingering deep in the joints.
I stayed up late staring at the ceiling,
counting myself to sleep with the stippling,
living a life not dependent on pleasing
an entity deafened from all of the listening,

feral love.
You’ve got a feral love,
and I hope that it rips me to shreds.

I know blood,
it’s like fine wine:
gets better with age,
all tannins and full of taste.
And as I get older, I want to know
the contents of your notes,
what you get in the profile —
whiskey casks, tobacco, and
all of the joys I’ve known
waiting to hear from you
and then hearing from you.
It brightens me up,
brightens me up.
Track Name: Like Skin
Like a knuckle clenched, like the cheeks on brides —
like the way we slough off white and paperlike
outdated remnants of ourselves
and try to slither out from underneath our pride,

I’ll be a blemish or a scar,
a blister on your thumb:
you’ll be thinking about me
on the drive home.

Like an ingrown part.
Like the calloused feet,
like the way the frost bursts capillaries just beneath
the surface of something quite different from
how we construct ourselves to seem,

I’ll be a blemish or a scar,
a blister on your thumb:
you’ll be thinking about me,
I’ll be on your mind.
I’ll be on your mind.

Like the feeling of the bed we used to lay upon
and like the flavour of your skin,
I used to know it once,
but now it’s gone.
Track Name: Mt.
I’m stepping out,
caught on my feet this time, for once.
Drunkenly slipping on your lawn,
feel the wind through my fingers, & then I’m gone.
Mistreated it first,
took it as an article of faith —
I don’t care what you were told,
I just know it’s my fault you’re not sleeping alone.

I know, I know.

Sorta misjudged,
thought I could see it off tonight.
Raised a glass to toast your health;
had a reaction to myself.

I know, I know.
Track Name: Happy While United
This is a call for a new dictionary
for the things that don’t have a voice,
born into this world of language
and not given a choice -
everything from rivers and oceans
to intangible notions and thoughts.
This is a call to be
the unsayable’s polyglots.

Brutalist architecture
is beautiful in its own way
if you just take a second to
figure out what it wants to say,
cause everything has got its own dialect
to breathe down deep into your lungs
(e.g. I love the Romantic languages,
but I’d do anything for your Slavic tongue).

So wrap my guts in curly punctuation marks
and then say them out loud.
The nuances of the way I feel about you
can be difficult to pronounce.
Find me a word that means in simple syllables,
“To find one’s heart in one’s mouth.”
I’m not just making idle conversation,
I have gotta hear that other sound.
Track Name: Virtue + Valour
“You’ve been such gracious hosts,
but now we really must be going.
We had a very nice time,”
and as I say this I’m
tracing my fingers down your spine,
hold onto it like a rail
and pull myself up,

noble, undisgraced,
stoic and impassive with
a breakwater face.
But beneath it is no trace
of the deliberate or restrained —
we’re all animals
in a certain way.

What do they say?
“A good man’s hard to find these days”?
They’ve made no mistake;
virtue and valour are the province of the brave.
It’s more of the same.
I see no reason to let that get in our way.
Heaven be praised.

I’m not afraid of shame,
but I’m afraid that
something hideous
behind my balls
now rears its head, and
I could eat you whole
at any time
I chose.

What do they say?
“A good man’s hard to find these days”?
They’ve made no mistake;
virtue and valour are the province of the brave.
It’s more of the same.
I see no reason to let that get in our way.
Heaven be praised.

If you think there’s nothing inexplicable and evil,
you haven’t really met a man.
Trim the heart of its silverskin
and sear it ‘til browned in a ripping hot pan.
Track Name: Pay Me Some Attention
For a start, I’m alive,
but I’m always wasting time,
cause you’re smart, and that’s just fine,
but I can’t jack off to your mind.
And you’re not mine, but what is “mine,”
and why’s my heart out on the line?
All it does is bleach and dry.
Maybe I’m lacking in empathy.

I know that you know
and you know that I know
and I know you know that I know.
Pay me some attention;
we’ll see how it goes.

If you’re out, then it’s alright
to go fucking other guys.
I don’t think it’s impolite,
sneaking off and getting high.
But when I’m too drunk to drive,
you don’t even have to try;
you just know, and no surprise,
but I could use your sympathy.

I know that you know
and you know that I know
and I know you know that I know.
Pay me some attention;
we’ll see how it goes,
oh-oh-oh.