Wake of Waking
by Grand Lake Islands
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house fire
04:07
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warm keeping
04:45
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about
As its title suggests, “Wake of Waking” is testament to a time of questions, deliberations, and declarations. It is an encourage to move headlong down an uncertain road. The opening track “Flood” mirrors both the magnificence and trepidation of this uncertainty saying, “here comes the flood, stumbling through my blood, I’m trying to understand its hum...”. Songs like “Old Soul” start out intimate before erupting into a cathartic free-for-all.
Though mainly driven by acoustic guitar, wistful cello lines, lonely harmonies, subtle drumming, and Justin Kilburn’s haunting lap steel give the songs a cohesive, yet diverse quality. The album was recorded mostly in Sea Side Lounge in South Slope, Brooklyn and was engineered and produced by Nick Smeraski.
Look for the EP in the Summer of 2013
Though mainly driven by acoustic guitar, wistful cello lines, lonely harmonies, subtle drumming, and Justin Kilburn’s haunting lap steel give the songs a cohesive, yet diverse quality. The album was recorded mostly in Sea Side Lounge in South Slope, Brooklyn and was engineered and produced by Nick Smeraski.
Look for the EP in the Summer of 2013
credits
released 08 March 2012
Erik Emanuelson- Vocals, guitar, harmonica, mandolin
Justin Kilburn- Vocals, guitar, lap steel, clapping
Nick Smeraski- Drums, percussion, choir vocals
Daniel Bindschedler- Bass, cello
Robin Bacior- Vocals, piano
Ellis Bahl- Background Vocals
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All songs written by Erik Emanuelson
Produced and Engineered by Nick Smeraski
Recorded at Seaside Lounge in Brooklyn, NY and at the Smeraski Estate.
Mastered by Salt Mastering
Artwork by cutetastrophe & diego fernandez
Cover Design: Cutetastrophe
Erik Emanuelson- Vocals, guitar, harmonica, mandolin
Justin Kilburn- Vocals, guitar, lap steel, clapping
Nick Smeraski- Drums, percussion, choir vocals
Daniel Bindschedler- Bass, cello
Robin Bacior- Vocals, piano
Ellis Bahl- Background Vocals
----------
All songs written by Erik Emanuelson
Produced and Engineered by Nick Smeraski
Recorded at Seaside Lounge in Brooklyn, NY and at the Smeraski Estate.
Mastered by Salt Mastering
Artwork by cutetastrophe & diego fernandez
Cover Design: Cutetastrophe
tags
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Grand Lake Islands is a loose shape, lushly instrumented with several helping hands, but at times bare-boned with only a thin guitar line and a shaky voice, serving mainly as the moniker for lyrically minded songwriter Erik Emanuelson The music is infused with that pungent New England feel--dried leaves and water tones swirling around the more mechanical beat of the city. ... more
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- Track Name: Grand lake Islands - Flood
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Finally one day,
when the sea sick fades.
I'll grow my sea legs
and curse at your coast
cringe at your boat landing.
set my mind to make
what once was taken
starving by the seedlings,
just before the harvest broke
you bring baskets to my window.
Here comes the flood
stumbling through my blood
I'm trying to understand its hum
before the damn comes back up.
My ripe skin,
thick from thin.
stop clutching in the rain
start soaking in the lake
it's easier, it's easier but strange
I felt the rope,
tight enough to choke
it was loosening its grip,
nearly a fugitive
wanted to break free not be acquitted.
Here comes the flood
stumbling like a drunk
I'm trying to understand its hum
before the damn comes back up - Track Name: house fire
-
Stop coming home so hysterical,
holding out your hand won't invoke a miracle.
the world falls apart, you're putting pieces together.
See the end oh so Biblical,
but don't you know it's revolution,
not revelation that brought us here?
Spread yourself so so minimal
the smoke you see is not literal;
where you gonna run when the door
is locked behind you?
when you're splitting hairs, so so cynical,
are you hot or cold in your direction?
the sun's gonna rise
will you carry the night in your pocket?
Like a child in a house,
like a child helpless in a house
see the smoke but you can't get out.
you're like a child helpless in a house. - Track Name: warm keeping
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there's a little box in the back of my head by the window
i've been buying up seeds with my spare banknotes.
but they sit all still just collecting, not blooming
when my mind gets cluttered, I feel like moving.
if you tell me where it dried up, i could water it
or at least burn the evidence.
I can tell my friends by the smokers cough in their breathing these days
down by the river bed not sleeping.
they've coupled off their loneliness for warm keeping
trying not to do much speaking.
if they tell me where they got off i could give em' a lift
or at least burn the evidence.
i met a girl west of Sacramento
part of her is mine, the other part unsettled
sometimes she leaves my bed when the morning's new
and i hope that she's not gone when the night comes through.
if she tells me where's she's going i guess i'll follow
bleary-eyed Portland or thin-aired Colorado.
In the east you only dream about the west,
from the sun-soaked leaves of a hill's crest
staring down these headlights in the august of sweat,
looking for a tear in this city's fabric.
gonna find where it is broken and make my way in
or i'm just gonna start laughing.
