by Dérive & SPACE CAMP

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released September 10, 2015

Nathan Jackson - Voice
Cameron Lovett - Rhythm Bass
Jon Whitin - Keyboards, Trombone
Sam Usifer - Drums

Dérive is:
Noah Jacques - Lead Bass
Paul DeGrandpre - Drums
Greg Nahabedian - Keyboards, Voice
Paul Schmelz - Guitar, Saxophone


Engineered and mastered by Will Killingsworth at Dead Air Studios in Leverett, MA. Recorded June 27th, 2015.
Mixed and produced by Will Killingsworth

All music written by Dérive & Space Camp
Lyrics for "Spinal Expulsion" and "Euphoria Faction" written by Greg Nahabedian.
"Course Correction" Originally by Dérive
"Road Head" Originally by Space Camp
Artwork by Nathan Jackson
Cassette Design by Alex Potter



all rights reserved


SPACE CAMP South Windsor, Connecticut

ben folds five from hell
spacecampcthc@gmail.com even if it's just to chat


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Track Name: Spinal Expulsion
Frame my soul in a magazine
Frame my heart in an advertiser’s wet dream
Frame my lips and hair and frame the sky and the air
Frame my soul in a magazine

It’ll happen like this:
First they come for the big muscles and when you’re pumped full of steroids and protein shakes and lying sick in a fitness fever they love the underdeveloped bodies.

It’ll happen like this:
Everyone will fall in love with social awkwardness, loneliness, and depression. They will tear you limb from limb until all that’s left is a hollow husk of a human being. Entirely unsure of what came first you wander pitch black forests of shopping malls wondering, “Who does the buying?”

It’ll happen like this: Soldiers deck out their guns for fashion publications. An AK-47 with fuzzy trim. Gunmen smear dirt on their faces and they’ll pop right out of the pages. Black and white dice hang from the tops of tanks. Monsters you couldn’t conjure up in your most secretive dreams are gonna drive down your street and blow you to smithereens.

I got evicted from my spine
I got evicted from my spine
I got evicted from my spine
I got evicted from my spine
I got evicted from my spine
A ghost wandering through the rows of bending pines
Now every thought takes so long long long long
I got evicted from this song

Frame my soul in a magazine
Frame my heart in an advertiser’s wet dream
Frame my lips and hair and frame the sky and the air
Frame my soul in a magazine

I got evicted from my spine
Track Name: Euphoria Faction
Yes. Boys:
Is this your fantasy or is this your end?
Everybody’s laughing
Everybody’s dancing
Can you hear them sing?
Can you hear them scream?
Or is it just a blank page for your love stained dreams?

Yes. Boys:
Is this your dream or is this your demise?
Everybody’s drinking
And then everybody’s sleeping
Can you feel the heat
Trick-trick-trickle down your spine?
Or are you just decaying by design?

At the Frat Castle gathering there’s an IV of whiskey and shots of Hennessy
At the Roofie Palace there’s masked druids forming circles for all eternity
Are you up all night studying rape game chemistry?
Let me drink bottled ecstasy.
Track Name: SPACE CAMP - Course Correction
If there was another way to go
Then I missed it 17 years ago
In a better town or on a better street
I could drown myself in a symphony
Well, if time allowed I’d stop these sounds
I’d tear them up and I’d put them in the ground
Or I’d write a new song with a brand new beat
I’d try to sleep with brand new dreams

If there was another way to be
Then I missed that road. I missed that street.
I missed some sign that everyone else saw.
I went right past it and now I’m lost.
I want one last kiss goodnight
To separate these things from my life
I’ll lie still until the morning light
Nothing here sounds right

Playing the piano with busted fingers.

None of my songs sound right
None of my songs sound right
I need a sign. I need a sign.
My head’s always filled with these sounds that linger
And I’m playing the piano with busted fingers

This scene seems like a thousand bad dreams
My lungs work fine I have no idea how to scream

We need a brand new song with a brand new beat.
Track Name: Dérive - Road Head
At my western most point I’ve got flailing joints
Pointing to the bottom of the sea
Letting off steam using the rest of me up
Running on empty emotions
Jumbled thoughts jumbled clock
There’s no room to walk
The doors are open
A flooding after thought
A bloody after thought
No ones righting these wrongs
You said you wanted to pick my brain but you used kitchen tongs
I’m falling and for Jesus you’re still ripping bongs