This release may contain explicit audible lyrics or other audio content that is not work/kid safe.
Dripping, Sopping: A Saturation Celebration
s/t EP
Release date: 03/02/2007 | Duration: 15 min. | Genre: Rawkdumb
Download in FLAC (99.27 MB) | Download in MP3 (28.23 MB)

  1. FUCK THAT, SON (2:07)
  2. RE: STEVE ALBINI (3:00)
  3. ROCK FACTORY (3:27)
  4. DO YOUR PARENTS KNOW???????? (1:11)
  5. TIT SPIT!!!!!! (1:37)
  6. BALLAD (3:10)

When I want to get serious, somehow it always ends up getting ridiculous. (Rarely does it end up the other way around, alas.) What was originally supposed to be a very heavy-art 2007 RPM Challenge project ended up going another direction when I looked up from my artist-in-deep-pretentious-contemplation reverie and realized I had three remaining days to complete the challenge, by which time I also hadn't done a thing other than buy a few hundred bucks' worth of new gear.

A change of plans was mandated: I was going to do a seat-of-pants, sheer-panic-rock record. What the hell else can you do with three days?

I called up some close friends (both musicians and non-musicians). My friends turned up, provided song titles and lyric/thematic ideas, sang, did the art using pictures of found objects in the "studio", listened to me rattle off an endless list of terrible possible band names at TGI Friday's, and even sat there clicking for me on the DAW-mouse while I tried to insta-sand off my longstanding drummer-rust and complete five songs' worth of drum tracks as quickly as possible before my apartment-complex neighbors called the cops.

In the end, the criteria for RPM Challenge qualification (specifically, a minimum of 10 songs or 30 minutes) sadly went unmet that year. But the chaotic result, recorded at much lower overall volume than it sounds, is still pretty fun. I have only my wonderful friends to thank.


Written and recorded in a real big hurry (so hurried that there were four more intended songs I never completed), 2/26-2/28/07.
RB played all instruments.
Chantal wrote the lyrics and sang on "TIT SPIT!!!!".
Einat did the cover art, and sang / spoke on "Fuck That, Son" and "Ballad."
Holly also sang on "Ballad."
RB sang and wrote everything else.

Special thanks to Lin, Bryn, Jill, Einat, and Sandi for suggesting initial titles / inspiring the lyrics of most of these songs, and so much more besides.


inspired by lin
backing vocals and engineering ass't: einat

it's time somebody put you in your goddamn place
cause the way you been actin' is a real disgrace
gallivantin' bout town like a custody case
and frontin' like a man with no hard drive space
you're wearin' a soul patch, gotta broken shoelace
won't shut up bout the time when you got to third base
with some girl named Jenny and her little sister Grace
man i'm gonna punch you in the motherfuckin' face

you float like a butterfly and smell like a gun
and you got a broken leg, yo fuck that, son
you're all gussied up like a cinnamon bun
like a high-falutin' doughnut, well fuck... that... son

man didn't nobody tell you how we rock it down here
how we dock it down here and how we don't like Richard Gere half a mind to wipe out that sneer
you wanna buy a Kia but you better steer clear
how you call yourself a man when you won't go to the mall
keep gettin' confused 'tween Lou Reed and Lou Rawls
oh alternately quotin' Marmaduke and Biggie Smalls
stand still so I can kick you in the motherfuckin' balls

you say you're a priest and you feel like a nun
but you ain't either one, yo fuck that, son
your snow globe collection weighs a metric ton
but you're always outta rubbers, well fuck that, son
your friends are all policemen but they ain't no fun
they'd tell you to your face, yo fuck that, son
better pay your respect, get yr shit on the run
it's gas, grass or ass, so fuck that, son.

inspired by lin (proposed title: "Steve Albini's Cock")
engineering ass't: einat

Steve Albini's enormous penis could fill arenas with its greatness
Steve Albini's enormous penis is living proof of the love of Jesus

You wish you had his indie cred
But there's not a woman alive who can give Albini head

Steve Albini's enormous penis is the size and shape of Texas
Steve Albini's enormous penis is exquisite at drum overheads

Don't you be envious, no
Cause those who know Albini know
That he has to special order his pants
Analog pants
Custom analog pants

inspired by bryn

workin' for the minimum wage at the rock factory
overtime never gets paid at the rock factory
i work my fingers right down to the bone
line supervisor still won't leave me alone
just gotta keep bustin' my ass at the rock factory

gonna spend the rest of my life at the rock factory
prolly never find me a wife at the rock factory
no conversation while you're on the clock
we gotta get these boxes of rock to the dock
gotta keep bustin my ass at the rock factory

inspired by jill

does your mother know you're a whore?
does your mother know you're a whore?
does your mother know you're a whore, she know just what a whore is for now?
oh yeah.

does your father know you have sex?
does your father know you have sex?
does he know you have sex, sex for money?
it's really, really, really, really funny.

vocals and lyrics: chantal

no lyrics available (i'll leave this one up to her)

inspired by grocery shopping / written in the car
backing vocals: holly and einat

a song for you and me
and a couple other million people
to tell you how much i love you
oh ballad
can't put it into words
so i had to write a song
for you
that i wrote with words

cause no one's made me feel
like i do about spaghetti
and then one fateful morning i found you
and you like spaghetti too
and we also like each other
almost like we like spaghetti

something bout what you mean to me
something bout a symphony
and violins are expensive
makin' love till the morning light
makin' sweet love till the next day
till thursday
till august
whenever oh baby ballad!
cause when we're making love
it's like people making love
or maybe like two people making love
i feel like making love
a doo-doo dooooo, a doo-doo doooooo
ah feel like making love a'tooooo youuuuuu