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My Town Has No Caf​é​s

by The Pleasures Pale

/
1.
On that well loved street In a place I'll call "nowhere" I was stricken, I was stricken By a frontal assault and I suppose I'm at fault For letting my thoughts run astray Hey, my town has no cafés, no place for us to say "We're tired, so tired of the same things" Hey, my town has no cafés, no place for us to say "We're tired, so tired of the same dead things" So it WAS three in the morning And I had been mourning for the past week About my mental disease Well, I thought life finally might turn my way When you just walked on by Hey, my town has no cafés, no place for us to say "We're tired, so tired of the same things" Hey, my town has no cafés, no place for us to say "We're tired, so tired of the same dead things" Down in my familiar gutter Nothing left to utter It's late, it's late, late, Dayton So don't just leave me here this way Don't just leave me in this state My town has no cafés My town has no cafés So don't just leave me here this way My town has no cafés
2.
If nature must have its way Good things will never stay Unlucky for me, now I am without But the slyest of the pious must remain devout It comes time, oh, it comes time And I don this heavy coat of mine When it comes time for intrepid weather You and I will wear together Dear old jeans, corduroy and leather I am better off with you I am better off with you By the babbling brook I spoke I spoke and you awoke By the wrecking crane's chain and hook I joked and you mistook It comes time, oh, it comes time And I don this heavy coat of mine When it comes time for intrepid weather You and I will wear together Dear old jeans, corduroy and leather I am better off with you I am better off with you Better off that butter on bread When some smart aleck said I'd "be better dead" When it comes time for intrepid weather You and I will wear together Dear old jeans, corduroy and leather I am better off with you I am better off with you I have this hat and these holy jeans And a large overcoat I can hide beneath Forget about me, oh forget about me I want no cure for my disease
3.
Up on a mountain full of mundane Rocks another pointless Monday Gone away is that thing The delicate butterfly wing called hope With a heavy sigh beside the sink Your desolate eyes may never blink It's sad when your self feels more like a rope Up and slam the toilet seat Past is past, today I think I'll get rid of this thing, this god-awful thing The very hair-in-the-mouth called doubt Shoes and socks and brush my teeth Attitudes defy gravity And I say this world is mine to own Back on this mountain full of mundane Rocks another pointless Monday Gone away, oh, gone away Gone away is the thing called hope Shoes and socks and brush my teeth When my hair defies gravity I say this world is mine to own I sing to myself too proud to dial for help Is this asinine or what? Misfit and misplaced, knock-kneed and lacking grace Where to get this thing called strength? I sing to myself with a juvenile dose of scorn Oh my, my, my Monday mourn Misfit and misplaced, knock-kneed and lacking grace Where to get this thing called strength?

about

In September of 1985, singer/lyricist Jeffrey Bright began meeting for songwriting sessions with bassist Luis Lerma and guitarist Mitchell Swann in Bright's rented house on Marcella Avenue in North Dayton. Lerma was already established as a prominent rockabilly figure in the Dayton underground, having played in The Lucky Strikes, among others, and Swann was loosely associated with the burgeoning Bob Pollard/Guided by Voices Northridge scene. Swann's friend and then occasional GBV drummer Timothy Payton Earick sat in on a series of 4-track recording sessions and soon the band had a name and a demo tape. With Earick otherwise committed, Jeff Keating, of Dates XXX renown, was recruited as permanent drummer and the first incarnation of The Pleasures Pale was complete and performing live in early 1986.

Later in the year, the band started work on a full length LP at Dayton's ReFraze Studio. Recording sporadically, and as money allowed, The Pleasures Pale! was finally released on 12-inch vinyl and cassette by Cincinnati independent label, Heresy Records in January 1988 — unfortunately, three months after the group had abruptly called it quits. Consequently, the LP was never given the touring support or widespread exposure it deserved.

The three songs here were populated throughout the original LP's sequencing — "My Town Has No Cafés" at A2, "A Heavy Coat of Jokes" at B2 and "Monday Mourn" at A4. For this release, "No Cafés" has been remastered for a richer sound and the two b-sides have been edited and remastered for a fresh interpretation. All three lean on Bright's doleful survey of the limited options at hand for inspiration in post-industrial, 1980s Dayton — artistic, intellectual, romantic and otherwise. At the time, the town indeed had no cafés, no "place for us to say we're tired of the same dead things."

The set also illustrates the band's proclivity for style-hopping. "No Cafés" rides Swann's 12-string guitar hook to an anthemic indie rock climax; "A Heavy Coat" takes an oscillating groove and dusts it with folk touches to compliment the song's proletarian metaphors; and "Monday Mourn" is unabashedly country, an existential lament gliding smoothly along on Lerma and Keating's exquisite two-beat shuffle and Swann's fleet arpeggiation.

Stand by for more good-to-the-last-drop, double-shot Americano from one of Southwest Ohio's finest original blends.

credits

released October 3, 2018

voice, keyboard – jeffrey bright
6- & 12-string guitars – mitchell swann
bass guitar – luis lerma
drums – jeff keating

initial recording:
produced by the pleasures pale
engineered by gary king
refraze studio
dayton, ohio
1986-1987

additional recording:
san francisco, california
2018

cover design - jeffrey bright

c) 1987 The Pleasures Pale
p) 2018 JABMA
Fugitive Music Publishing / BMI

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The Pleasures Pale Dayton, Ohio

The Pleasures Pale was an influential indie quartet based in Dayton Ohio active from 1985 to 1987. Oft-compared to anglo groups such as The Smiths, TPP's influences can now be read as more diverse — taking cues from postpunk, rockabilly, swing, Motown and Dayton funk. A band for misfits, their extensive, lyric-driven output sought to light a way through the rust belt's post-industrial bleakness. ... more

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