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  • Digital Album
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Killer Fry 02:25
Rollin' away like a pair of roller skates down a steep drop, they don't belong to a pair of feet (stop), like I care if I chew the skins of a mango away. The Indians were always good at using everything, everything. Dreading tomorrow's monday moments, Taking back Sunday's lame atonements. Alone in the dark, it's not uncommon, breathing incense eating noodles with ramen. Too lazy to place apostrophes between. The accented consonants and concepts unseen. Alone in the dark I catch jars of fireflies. Like a butter neon glow stick you are my- Killer Fry, can I get you with a side of soda? Tell me honestly can you make me die from addiction to those sodium eyes? Cut the blood right out of my skin don't strike too hard my defense is paper thin. Like a leech you're spiteful I cannot win, but I'll sit and laugh with you over a bottle of gin my Killer Fry, my Killer Fry.
Manic 04:01
So tired, Derailed, So wired, So vacant and pale. Pretentious, Opaque, Realistic, My heart expatriates. So manic, I’m pullin’ out my hair. Manic. So tired, Derailed, So wired, So vacant and pale. So manic (jerking back and forth like--) I’m pullin’ out my hair (--a jack out of the box) So manic (torture’s just the axle to--) I’m pullin’ out my hair (--the wheels I must appease) Torture’s just the axle to the wheels I must appease. Wheels I must appease.
Travel On 03:57
These are the days of war in the jungle, staccato signals on the front lines. A reason to wander past the material, a reason we'll all leave the old place behind. We'll fix it together. When we travel… on. These are the days of misplaced emotions. Staccato knockings on the front door. We'll bind over altruism, breathe down beneath the schism, admonish the cynicism, stand out anachronism, as we travel on.
Nous n'avons encore interlocuteur, maintenant tu ne regardes pas. Quand les nuages se forment naturellement. Quand la ville a été oublié. Tout le monde est verre brisé, parce que l'on depolitise Mon tragedie néo grec. a la porté du vieux Quebec. Quand la neige recouvre la fenêtre. Quand les nuages se forment naturellement. Quand la ville a été oublié.
Vege-tables 02:18
I'm gonna be round my vegetables, I'm gonna chow down my vegetables. I love you most of all, my favorite vegetable. If you brought a big brown bag of them home, I'd jump up and down and hope you'd toss me a carrot. I'm gonna keep well my vegetables, cart off and sell my vegetables. I love you most of all, my favorite vegetable I tried to kick the ball but my tenny flew right off. I'm red as a beet 'cause I'm so embarrassed. Mom and Daddy said: sleep a lot, eat a lot, brush 'em like a crazy. Run a lot, do a lot never be lazy. I threw away my candy bar and I ate the wrapper, and when they told me what I did I burst into laughter. I know that you'll feel better when you send us in your letter and tell us the name of your, your favorite vegetable.
Father Time 03:34
Father time seems to be winding down, (passively watching his) children kill as mother's around. The wind she is speaking and sleeping alone (whispering low). Howling and screeching across the north sky. A jealous and envious symphonic drone (dark overtone) is heard from the mountains of time. Father time seems to be winding down, (passively watching his) children kill as mother's around. Water is weeping as droplets unfold (surface aglow), looking ahead to the eye of the storm. Ebbing and flowing ten thousand leagues down (looking below), seeping the future ahead. Father time seems to be winding down, (passively watching his) children kill as mother's around. She's stained with the careless misuse of her life, her beauty's relinquished with age. The eons of gluttony, toil and strife center the focus offstage. Her climate turns, her forests burn away. A blossoming petal to germinate life, falling suspended through our atmosphere to a dark, rocky substrate: utopia lost. The rock becomes solace again. Father time seems to be winding down, (passively watching his) children kill as mother's around. Fleeting warmth, her youth seems to fade away. Fading away as the strings of time are starting to fray.
Open Window 02:02
Marbles 03:46
You're slow to react, slow to decide about guitars capsizing by your wayside. Humors me until my tears are dried. The best part is that you didn't even need to try. Locked out of plans begs ridiculous detours through Southpaw and dust piles in just closing stores and pizza tastes awful from people who don't speak our language. Our solace like wide open spaces it's sea blowing breezes. If I spill out like a bag of marbles Would you catch me where I am? Your hair's like a burning bush of honey on fire and all that I trust's in your insecure smile. We both climb trees after we both get B's in our last class this flying disease is a bottled arrangement.
Home 04:33
Audubon, Paradise Lost, one can see. Automaton, once a marvel but now I'm rendered as obsolete, a fallen drone, refurbished mechanical clone, I was alone, on my way home. Stalactite stand shrugged Atlas man. Beneath her skin stands misdirected when her heart's inside my hand. There must be thousands of locations rooting thousand 'tomotons until they roam. Now I'm home. Her voice is resonating, her height may be my fall. Behind the shadow's slinking through mental folderol. Look past the treetops waving carelessly awry. Like tombstones in the sky. Gamelan, faded picture Dorian Grey. The great beyond. I've wasted time until my jaw is weak, my temper's frayed, proceeding forward retrograde. I was afraid. I was afraid. I was afraid going home. Now I'm home.
Laughter 03:04
So why the long face? You just saw the two-legged man win the three-legged race. What gets lost is never found it's out of bounds and up in space. I laughed out loud when you showed up with chocolate frosting on your face. You know that I have to laugh. We could all use a little laughter. I knew a boy who's father died. His blood like tomatoes was dripping dried. I knew a girl who no matter how she cried, what follows after is laughter. We could all use a little laughter.
As I saw you walk by to the train, a pain pierced the clouds as it started to rain. You got scared and surprised but you smiled at my eyes, with the sunlight igniting our bridges on fire. Bridges on fire, bridges on fire. And the tire swing swings slowly without you So why don't you wait for me. 'Cause I don't know how to stay...
The slick and slimy feel of a wall that never peels. Humans use it all the time well good for them I can't use mine 'cause Julia's brains will plaster the walls. Natural selection made her hair like a rag doll's. She's sewing up her lips at the mad manmade eclipse of her papa in the light of the hall, come to plaster her brains on the walls. Julia's brains will plaster the walls. Julia's brains will plaster the walls. Whenever she blows her nose well God knows where her brains will go as they exit through the front. And all of her brains are on the walls.


Kirk Pearson is a composer, multi-instrumentalist and mammal. He makes an EP every three months, composed two symphonies and has written music for films, plays, commercials, the BBC and NPR. He writes music with a computer, which makes him kind of like a scientist, but doesn't sleep which makes him kind of like a musician.

Julia Egan is a vocalist, guitarist, music theorist and mammal. She sings folk songs and performs at New York's Classical Guitar Society. She has composed for NPR's Radiolab, can hit a high C, and once bought a ukulele, but does not remember where or why.

They met in their junior year at New York's LaGuardia School for Music and Art. Over the course of 400 days, Egan and Pearson wrote and recorded an album about insomnia, romance and neuroscience. This is said album.

Julia Egan is currently a student at the Eastman School of Music for guitar performance. Kirk Pearson studies physics and music composition at Oberlin.


released July 22, 2012

'Duo' is Julia Egan and Kirk Pearson.

Kirk Pearson- vox, keyboards, mandolin, banjo, cello, accordion, clarinet, electric guitars, erhu, harmonica, electronics, percussion
Julia Egan- vox, acoustic guitars, crystallophone
Nathaniel Sabat- acoustic and electric bass
Cindy Lan- violin, viola
Yardain Amron- piano on 'Home'
Eli Greenhoe- steel string guitar on 'Kai Sen Manuscripts'
Nell Pearson- saxophone
Mario Spinetti- electronic percussion on 'Marbles'
Polina Vulakh- piano on 'Manic'

Album art by Mari Kroin.

All songs by Egan/Pearson, except 'Vega-tables' by Brian Wilson/Van Dyke Parks.

Special thanks to Jim Pugliese, Robert Apostle, Zach Hicks, Eli Salamon-Abrams, Max Parsons and the staff of 92Y.

Produced and engineered by Kirk Pearson. Recorded in Kirk's living room, Brooklyn, NY.




Kirk Pearson New York

I make sound out of things


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