designer heartache.

by The Small Calamities

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cinderella 03:06
take those flowers from your hair, this is oakland. i was broke beyond repair, but you were open. if there's gonna be a flame, then you just set the world on fire… so take those flowers from your hair, this is everything we knew. cinderella, please forgive me! i'm wide awake, you're barely dreaming, and i can't sleep til i get your colors all out of my head. cinderella, please believe me: i'm trying to change, so won't you let me? i'm not ready to get your colors all out of my head. they say november's gonna come, well i am ready for a fight. take no credit for your sins, just keep it empty. there's a little piece of you on the dashboard of my car… sometimes i think about walking into traffic, screaming out your name, and waiting for the dam to break. cinderella, please forgive me! i'm running scared across your garden and i can't stop til i get your colors all out of my head. cinderella, run and chase me… it's getting late, i know you're weary but i'm not ready to get your colors all out of my head. and the radio was telling me it's gonna change, or maybe i should try to get some sleep. i saw you listening to death cab on the internet, i guess it's nice to know you're also sad. cinderella, don't forsake me—i know it's dumb, but we're still breathing… i know i've tried to get your colors all out of my head. cinderella, please forget me—i'm giving up, i'm tired of asking, and maybe this way i'll get your colors all out of my head.
house lights 04:11
so close your eyes and wait it out and when you wake up i'll be free from this—300 miles and counting i thought those words a thousand times, "you should know what you fucking took from me", instead it's season greetings i thought that winter changed us but i'm still someone you can't trust i wrote you letters in my head. i know you probably think that's weird but then the house lights turn on and you shine in shades of grey with tired eyes from those lost midnights. and it's not the seasons that make memories fade away—the show must go on "just one last time," i tell myself, one broken night to show how fixed i am—a kind of masquerade ball a million scars, a scratching post, a simple text that shows how young we were & you're still growing up to be some kind of chemical thing: a simple answer i can't change. it's just these glimpses after… i know you probably saw them too. then the house lights turn on and you shine in shades of grey with blue jeans on your white wine stains and it's not the reason that your face won't fade away: the show must go on. and it's slices of your ever changing days with short sleeves as the rain pours down 'til it's irish goodbyes (if that's still alright to say) the show must go on!
rocket 02:49
it's cold here in westwood but it's colder up in space... they don't have kale on mars so you would not enjoy yourself. it doesn't matter anyway 'cause we are all going to burn, but i will try to save a place for you, even if i never learn. build me a bear, i'll build a rocket to space. it's last call, at take off, i'm gonna miss the way you stare up in the distance... 'cause it got good, then it got lost, but don't you worry we'll make it back to earth on time it's freezing in my mind but it's warmer where you aren't... i got back from san francsico but i never quite returned. it's not real life, it's not high school, it's a photograph of last year, and it's hard to explain... it's getting harder to explain. build me a bear, and i'll build a rocket to space. it's last call with launch codes, i'm gonna miss the way you struggle with the silence... we had a good run on some bad roads, but don't you worry, we'll make it back to earth on time. it's the last fight in a long war--that's just a metaphor, there wasn't any violence... just some cheap shots behind closed doors, but don't you worry, we'll find a way to die on time. we drove out to the desert, and we did a lot of drugs, and i crumbled into autumn and i woke up in the sun. there were things i tried to be and words i wanted you to know: i will try to get my shit together, i will try to work my shit out, i will try to move my shit. it's last rites, it's shut down... i'm gonna miss the days we put it back together in the highways and the small towns. like i said, we made it back to earth on time.
performed by the small calamities written, produced, edited, and arranged by charlie wolf THE SMALL CALAMITIES: charlie wolf - vocals, acoustic/electric guitar, a little synth, drum programming hayden parker - acoustic drums jim posen - bass ADDITIONAL STUDIO PERSONNEL: bobby victor - heaps o' synth gwen weston - harmonies steve deutsch - additional bass recorded mostly at lolalabs. tracking engineered by charlie wolf. mixed by kyle dreaden in nashville. mastered by dave downham at gradwell house in jersey.
kept awake by things i never was; counting footsteps in my head or in your reverie. i see you're back—oh, what a dark surprise… Take away my head and cover up my eyes. i Heard we all get cancers all the time… they only break us when we're too burned out to fight it. chipping pieces of my soul away 'cause if there's nothing left, there's nothing left to save. I won't give up and i won't give in. if you want me to, i won't die for you. in a coat of many colors you were standing on the shore with your whispers of salvation keeping people wanting more. the devil's in the details, on my shoulder, in my head—it's a battle that was raging over little things you said. i'm tired of telling stories and i'm tired of staying home… it's the things we take for granted, it's a Name that we can't say. i heard we all were dying all the time… it only burns us when we're too broke down to fight it
i want to feel the thing i felt for you for anybody else. i want to wake up Early, go to the gym… i want to be that kind of guy but that was not part of the plan, that was never meant to be. i can't go back to your Apartment but i used to have The key to you. you say you me want to play cool shit but all i want to do is write mainstream pop… it's not a sellout if it's True. i'm trying to forget but i remember every day that it's hard to write new poems when there's nothing left to say to you so take the couch, i'll take the floor, i'll keep your contact, i've kept everyone's since 2004 but i don't know what for. i'm wishin' that i lost your number so i could blame it All on time, so i Could blame a memory, so i could blame anything but me… take a number! i was thinking about your eyes and the inevitable death of every star up in the sky and every person that i've met. not every number that i've kept even holds some recognition and of these strangers i collect, you're the Only one i'm missing. i could take a Salsa class… they're every wednesday. they're not too expensive and i think it'd be healthy to put myself out there. i'll take the dance floor like it's 2004, but i don't know what for.
so we both danced with the devil, but you went home and saved the world. i slowly left your atmosphere, and drove the dark away… i'm just passing through here like a Choir Of fallen angels, outlaws on the run, standing on the edge, waiting for someone to say: It's the end of the summer, it won't wait for me. it's the end of the summer, we'll get over it. if you try to close your eyes N' picture us in other lives, then, Baby, we'd cross over. we crashed right through the air, you mumbled something with a smile… like Autumn leaves, i fell back down or prayed for intermission. Somewhere there's an open door, a window staring at the street like sinister reminders to "please enjoy my stay". i was thinking about driving my car off the golden gate bridge… getting back to basics, or maybe start a hobby. i know, baby, that some of these things get so hard to forgive so take a breath, and when you wake up it's the End of the summer.
i saw a sign today advertising discounts ("l.a. to san francisco") and i could find a way to fit My life packed tightly In the back. i know you don't like metaphors… it was literally a Sign. how could i think i was anything besides a convenient waste of time? but i would have changed my plans for you. there was a day last june, i drove out to Soma and took tours of an apartment… I didn't tell you that, but we were never too fond of the truth i know you don't like metaphors… it was a literal apartment. how could i think i was anything besides a stepping stone for you On your way to show everyone all you need is you? but i would have changed my plans for you. you should go someplace where it's Never raining and trees aren't all on fire 'cause now i'm half asleep but when i wake up we will both be thirty. i know you don't like metaphors but do your best to work that out. how could i think that you were anything besides shelter a from the rain? but i would have changed my plans for you.
it was late, we were young and i was stupid… watching the helicopters twinkle in the distance. you closed your eyes, and we still had plenty of time. all alone on a freeway in the midwest, trying hard just to focus on the silence… snowflakes fell, and i still had plenty of time. come back and tell me why the winter came and turned us into ash. come tell me everything, save your breath like we still had— waking up on the edge of a disaster… sirens sang and they got they were after. lock the door and wait while there's plenty of time. it's too late to be young and in love now! i'm too late to be wandering somehow…. find a place to stop. come back and tell me you remember all the places that we went. come tell me everything, waste your youth like we still had something in our dreams that we were dumb enough to follow. it's tearing at the seams but i won't die yet, i won't lay down, and i won't love you. it was late, we were here and it was okay seeing the city disappearing in the distance like we were gone, and i had still plenty of—
everyone in san francisco's standing in this living room, an infinite apartment that's somehow fading into you. put away your photographs 'cause i have been Doing alright. everyone in san francisco's tryin' to be somebody else but i'm no longer anyone—i'm just tryin' to stay alive. let's try to keep it insincere 'cause i have been doing alright. i've been runnin' for a long time and i'm finallly gettin' clean. oh, it's that kind of party. turn your head but don't worry—there is nothing to say. it's okay, yeah it's better that way… just focus on the doorway while i think about the first time. i was thinking about the first time i was standing on the edge just waiting for the bomb to drop but you were something incomplete so try and make a final shot. i'm Ready for my Exit and i have been staying away. everyone in san francisco slowly leaves this living room til suddenly we're photographs quickly coming into View. throw away your invitations. i have been doing alright. i've been hiding for a long time and i'm finallly gettin' clean Oh, it's that kind of party… walk around but don't worry—there is nothing to do. tell myself that i got over you, and focus on the details, don't think about the last time. don't you think about the last time i've been runnin' for a long time and i'm finallly coming clean.
i spent a year in a daydream and i was so different before and i'm different now. i'm tired, and i want to go home. home is a place where you go at the end of the day but no picture Frame posted will make it Okay when i'm just a lifetime away. i thought that i wasn't leaving here… phone calls, and postcards that tell about ghosts i am drifting away from it all. i have been endlessly ending… i'm watching a grainy reflection of lives where i found i belonged. they're framed now: a cell conversation, an instagram link, a false declaration in fading black ink that i have been someone. i thought that we were not ending here but voicemails, and words remind me of lips i've been wishing were real still. these days often remind me that search doesn't mean i will find in a box from when it was all fine, when it was all empty, when it was just endless, and when i had my time. well, i had my time. i've learned a lot about telephones, and i guess it's better this way… on a short break, i went away tell me it's true what i'm saying or be here, beside me as i go away Now, when i am still finding my home.
just breathe 03:30
the blue on your skin Faded faster than all of the marks that he left in your mind. they say “just breathe” when those nightmares still keep you awake when everything's supposed to be fine. through weary eyes in slices of sunlight… but I can't imagine at all… and i have been busted and broken and torn into shreds in my own way. still, i can't imagine at all. you're not alone in these walls you've Grown… i'll try my best to be the things you need from me. some days it's the simple reminders: a look on a face or a word in a song. and they say: “just breathe”… what useless fucking advice. i'll give you the best that i can but i can't promise that it's enough. but if we try, to find slices of sunlight… but i can't imagine at all… and i got my own shit and sometimes i can't see the light. still, i can't imagine at all if you don't come Home, you're not on your own… i'll try my best to be the Things you need from me.
opening scene: there are cups on the table, and music bleeds out of a shitty tv. you lie on the couch wrapped in pieces of starlight, impossibly glowing—an omen that i couldn't see. slowly we fade to a day in the tropics, the sound of your Voice singing soft through the wires. your words tumble out and stand still for a decade; my answer still rings somewhere deep in the back of my head. it's that time of year where dreams start falling down, and all you had to do was try not to jump. haunted mistletoe; the movie stops, but we all know how it ends, and we watch it anyway. it's just that time of year. view of the world from the back of a towncar: our heroes are safe from the worst of the storm. A Lingering shot of your face in the doorway—a silence that said so much more than our words Ever could. flash forward to summer; we run down the street as we shine in dystopian spurs of the night. you ask me to stay and i run through the alley; in hindsight, the single most pivotal scene of our lives. fly overhead as we hike down the mountain; i tell you the truth and you stare at the ground. Now you're sitting in thought as i sleep on the airplane… the Credits begin as we move from the gates to real life. you say you want to stay the same, I wish that i could say that too… it's clichés and carols, or it's frozen homes. it's designer heartache 'til you're all alone. it's a bedtime story, of the darker german style; And we could start all over but we all know how it ends.


released November 8, 2019

charlie wolf - vocals, acoustic and electric guitars, synth (4, 7-8), glockenspiel (13), 808 (10), bass guitar (8, 12), rhodes (8), organ (12)
hayden parker - drums, bells (13)
christian kalafut - bass guitar (1, 5-6, 11), background vocals (10)
jim posen - bass guitar (3, 9-10, 13)
reuben bramanathan - piano (9), harmonies (3, 9)

produced, edited, arranged by charlie wolf.

additional studio personnel:
bobby victor - piano (3, 5, 7, 10), synth (1-2, 4, 6-7), rhodes (9, 13), organ (11), scoring (3, 13), harmonies (2, 6)
teresa tuan - harmonies (1, 13), greek chorus (7)
gwen weston - harmonies (3-4)
reggie duncan - pedal steel (5, 9), dobro (11)
steve deutsch - bass guitar (4, 7)
kerwin tsang - fuzzy bass (2)
adam zimmon - atmospheric guitar (5), guitar solo (5)
john elliott - harmonies (1, 6, 8, 13)
logan heftel - harmonies (11)
jake bluenote - mandolin (9)
vincent zaalberg - mandolin (11)
macedonian radio symphonic orchestra - strings (3, 13)
fernando reyes - mixing assistant (1, 3)
olga, victoria, & mischa - gossip (10)

recorded mostly at es audio, santo recording, airship laboratories, lolalabs, studio 9 hollywood, clear lake recording, the sauna studio, and highway 44 recording.

tracking engineered by chris hughes, taylor crommie, edwin gonzalez, jess fenton, logan heftel, bobby victor, and charlie wolf.

tracks 1 and 3 were mixed by michael h. brauer at brauer sound studios in nyc.
tracks 4, 6-7, and 10 were mixed by kyle dreaden in nashville.
tracks 8 and 12-13 were mixed by logan heftel in los angeles.
tracks 9 and 11 were mixed by bobby victor in the valley.
track 2 was mixed by vince ratti in philadelphia.
track 5 was mixed by warren david in nashville.

mastered by dave downham at gradwell house in jersey.

front cover photography by viktor denischik.

special thanks to: lola, lorena, liv, link, johnny, paul, zak, darren, and NASA.

"take a number" was written by charlie wolf (BMI) and logan heftel (ASCAP) and © 2019 charlie wolf (BMI) and christopher logan heftel music (ASCAP).
all other compositions © 2012-2019 charlie wolf (BMI).


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