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A Little Bit Ludicrous

by Adam Balbo

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Two albums on one CD: "The Jester" (2012) and "A Little Bit Ludicrous" (2017). Four panel card stock in a plastic sheath. Artwork by Helen Lee.

    Includes unlimited streaming of A Little Bit Ludicrous via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 21 Adam Balbo releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Clown World, Glitch, Adam Balbo Archive III (2009-2011), Twenty, Redemption, One-room Kingdom, A Little Bit Ludicrous, Adam Balbo Archive II (2006-2008), and 13 more. , and , .

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1.
Fuck it. I’m free. I’m fucked. It’s folk. That’s fair. l really don’t care I’m just taking a dump in left field and even the left fielder doesn’t care Doesn't ask me what the hell I’m doing, doing that way the fuck out there I greet him meekly and explain: Oh, I’m just taking a stroll Trying to reach Maurice taking a shit in Patapon’s food bowl You can choose to use a crowbar to pry open their tiny minds Moan and piss and tweet and click to convince someone to pay some mind Then shove what’s left of your compassion up some crack that’s hard to find. You always campaign on how little you care - take a fucking poll. Meantime, I’ll picture Maurice taking a shit in Patapon’s foodbowl After sharing your theory about how humpty dumpty was shoved off the wall, you measure the chaos in a dismal test down at the local science hall Then recruit an army of janitors to invade your favorite toilet stall Back on the fortress edge, you flash me your glory hole. Now we both can peek at Maurice taking a shit in Patapon’s foodbowl You serve up reheated revenge with chilled resentment to all your guests I idiotically shoved two fist full in my face - Now it’s me no one gets And you’re so fucking mad: they all seem like lemmings or, worse, fucking pests When you’re tired of everyone's goddamn shit - and patience has taken its toll There’s alway Maurice taking a shit in Patapon’s food bowl
2.
I don’t give a fuck, but I still fucking care A dickhead with a heart - my brain is you know where I'm freelance bullshit artist, crafting my fiction Sometimes I just shut the fuck up, and try listening I’m an amateur loser with no pedigree. A professional fuck-up with no proper degree. When I stick my dick in the wind and just start pissing, I realize I might need to shut the fuck up, and start listening. Free speech is not a privilege - it is technically a right. Don’t disregard your adversary; offer a high five. Its demeaning to assume anyone needs your permission. It takes practice to shut the fuck up, and just listen. To the whites of their eyes, there’s two ways to reply Brandish your best rhetoric - or bite tongue and eat pride Pick your battles when confronting the inquisition. Resign for a time to shutting the fuck up and just listening Justice is blind but she can be long-winded. Half your talk is wicked, it’s not your duty to be pigheaded. You out to conquer all? Are you open to another position? Either way, you probably need to shut the fuck up and try listening God’s lawyers can be prone to sanctimonious verbiage The devil’s advocate is a distinct, yet serious privilege There’s more than one way to extract an act of contrition Not always, but yeah, I shut the fuck up, and try listening None of this is ironclad - just a rule of thumb There’s a fine line between prudence and something really dumb. Make room for subtlety in your flawless glorious vision I’ll humor you and shut the fuck up, and try listening I blow it out my ass and turn the other cheek. My breathe smells like coconut; I got a pube stuck in my teeth. What in our shallow, pathetic existence could be missing? Maybe I need to shut the fuck up, and try listening This kind of advice fits on the back of a car. Balanced, rational argument only gets one so far. So, I add crass irreverence - with a nod to tradition That includes shutting the fuck up, and just listening You can scare or shoot the rooster, but the sun’s still gonna rise. Could the dim explicit thicket shit - open your eyes? Or chintzy slabs of facts dash - your favorite opinions. It takes guts to shut the fuck up, and just listen. Make an honest case - put a conclusion at the end Reason might fight bias, but we all chew on what we’re fed. Orthodoxy is shared among tribal affiliation. You’ll have to figure out when to shut the fuck up, and just listen. I made peace with my demons, now what the fuck do I do? Find a meeting of minds with someone in the room. With so much still to say, let this be my modest submission: Sometimes we all need to shut the fuck up, and just listen.
3.
Cool Shit 03:10
people doing cool shit - trying to figure out what to do focusing on what really works and making it come true studying the shit out of everything trudging through the flood of negativity listening to everyone from slave to king tossing your best hat into the brutal ring inspiring us to do it too people doing cool shit - trying to figure out what to do focusing on what really works and making it come true quaint - like a notion of civility The thankless task of forging public policy quietly building trust in your community with a lavish budget - threadbare shoestring inspiring us to do it too people doing cool shit - trying to figure out what to do focusing on what really works and making it come true drawing from humanity’s old wellspring summoning the will of creativity humdrum stuff like fucking governing a disciplined life passion not a fad or fling inspiring us to do it too people doing cool shit - trying to figure out what to do focusing on what really works and making it come true prosaic - like a sense of common decency not beholden to the dogma of either wing from Chicago to Pretoria to Chongqing Reimagining the limits of what could be inspiring us to do it too people doing cool shit - trying to figure out what to do focusing on what really works and making it come true
4.
Not Even Me 06:17
I’m not me anymore. I got busy, busy being born. If you pass this way again. I’ll be in the cloud or on the floor. Nothing now feels worth it. It’s all approximately worthless. I pass my days in a listless haze. I’m never whole, I’m always torn. The canned chorus of senselessness. The callousness makes me wince. I stop what I’m doing and just listen, in a frozen stupor at the stupid door. We all need some grounding in something boring or astounding. But every now and then, it’s good to get shaken to the core. I’m not you, him, her or them. I’m not even me anymore. When you conjure up the shame, it feels like a farce or a game. But I hear the chilling echo in the neglected annals of yore. Who am I to presume? Didn’t we both jump over the broom. In the din, my shout’s a whimper. In the silence, a roar. It’s neither here nor there. How quaint that you still care. All the best laid plans, you never know what’s in store. When all you’ve known has crumbled, and even heads of state are humbled All seem powerless to direct where the biggest burden is borne I’m not you, him, her or them. Hell, I’m not even me anymore. In the captive mind of pettiness. In resentment spawned from thoughtlessness. I mutter gloomily: "I fucking guess". Like Winnie-the-Pooh’s friend, Eeyore. In the grand prison of self-righteousness, echoes boom; nothing’s confessed Like that donkey, I get depressed. Being right can’t be it’s own reward. Even all the wisdom of Solomon can’t get the dead dove to fly again or persuade the zealot fundamentalistfrom unleashing misery and gore Sometimes, it all feels hopeless when violence robs what’s precious. The despair, I can only guess. I have the luxury to ignore. I’m not you, him, her or them I’m not even me anymore. Some people have an impressive, boundless gift of forgiveness Others bury their hate inside, dig their heels in and brace for war. A dash of agony is cathartic;Pampered self-pity pathetic We all have a struggle; Whether on the front lines or in fucking bubble core Sometimes, shit doesn’t work whether you’re decent or a jerk. Us, we'll hammer out a plan. We’ll just make up our own lore. I take no joy in another’s demise; a bird can’t haul its cage away if it’s gonna fly If you find a quick high in what you despise, Learning shit will become a chore I’m not you, him, her or them. I’m not even me anymore. Revolution can be tedious with spells of giddy deliriousness and self-indulgent disobedience, serious, cheesy, and mysterious I dumpster dive for ideas from the Dakotas to either Korea I follow furthest conclusions from the Hague to fucking Bangalore the narcissist dressed in a spiffy shirt; the swaggering amateur on high alert politely debate, but the trolls go berserk when the warriors claim to be pure I have a moral compass lodged near my hippocampus I won’t just blurt out what it says crouched in the shrubs of metaphor I’m not you, him, her or them. I’m not even me, not me anymore. You angrily to squeeze the balloon, displacing the agony and gloom I squeak the air out slowly, drawing fake giggles and sarcastic snores There’s tons of indignation from crude insults to high oration I’m just a modest scribe, an obscure, rambling troubadour I’m just a drop in the bucket, tossed in the ocean off Nantucket I’m a single grain of sand, lost in the snaking, rambling shore I’m so infinitesimally small. Go on, squint, you won’t see me at all When my dust gets blown away, things’ll pretty much be - as before. I’m not you, him, her or them. I’m not even me anymore.
5.
to avoid feeling like a useless piece of shit I convened a meeting on the monumental mess a quorum of one, still there was some suspense not really surprised and fairly impressed I plundered the search box for recompense signed my surrender, dropped any pretense gold and myrrh - and burning frankincense shit was everywhere, packed in really dense in short - to condense: it was all a little bit - ludicrous the big top convention had already commenced shouting mean chants instead of drafting a defense some actually polite in a different context proud, if bitter, feeling dispossessed sifting through the scraps of Apollo's mess herded past the labyrinth of common sense captive to a series of unfortunate events hearing the paeans, then promptly taking offense in short - to condense: it was all a little bit - ludicrous gratuitously huge - gorgeous immense amorphous, formless, and nebulous staring in the bowels of ruthlessness egregious, fruitless, and tortuous when the wrath surpasses metamorphosis its monstrous, obnoxious, and imperious the gracious stand aghast at the hideousness labeled sell-outs, bigots, even blasphemous in short - to condense: it was all a little bit - ludicrous the minutes of the meeting - all its contents were just a shapeless heap and didn’t make sense mostly boring as fuck, sometimes pretty intense nothing bud light would care to present I watched it unfold at my own expense It just pissed me off and made me fucking stressed I chucked that crap past the wall and the fence passed a quizzical bird, perched chirping its two cents in short - to condense: it was all a little bit - ludicrous after popping some corn for the apocalypse I needed a dose of the innocuous joyous, judicious, and generous fabulous, glamorous, and frivolous hilarious, ingenious, miscellaneous marvelous, miraculous, and idolatrous variously vacuous and virtuous illustrious, impervious, androgynous in short - to condense: it was all a little bit - ludicrous

credits

released April 8, 2017

Adam Balbo: electric guitar, vocals, harmonica
Mr. Andrew: drums
Jonathan Moyer: electric bass guitar
PJ Bottoms: tenor saxophone

Recorded and mixed by George Rosenthal at The SF Complex, San Francisco, California, on February 24-25, 2017.
Mastered by Jonathan Kirchner.
Artwork by Helen Lee

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