The Old Edison | Story Yelling

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Rock: Punk Folk: Angry Moods: Mood: Angry
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Story Yelling

by The Old Edison

The debut album of Hood Folk and Story-Yelling from Boston, Massachusetts
Genre: Rock: Punk
Release Date: 

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Tracks

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1. Faith in My Fretboard
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2:59 $0.99
2. And Start West
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2:51 $0.99
3. And Start West, Pt. 2
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2:40 $0.99
4. Wits and Guns
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3:59 $0.99
5. Dead Vulture Hurricane
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4:17 $0.99
6. Overture Interlude
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1:00 $0.99
7. Last Dance
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3:49 $0.99
8. Between Wind and Water
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3:46 $0.99
9. Conviction
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2:14 $0.99
10. Brownstone
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2:38 $0.99
11. One Drink Away
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3:10 $0.99
12. Deck of the Absurd
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4:39 $0.99
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ABOUT THIS ALBUM


Album Notes
this album was recorded over twenty-four hours, forty-eight busch lights, and five and one half packs of cigarettes between the days of saturday the sixteenth and sunday the seventeenth in the month of october 2010.

will yelled the most and sometimes played the guitar, depending on if the song was written while his arm was in a cast. squall played bass and guitar and yelled when he felt like it. rory played banjo, proving that you could learn it in the back of a '94 corolla. he also played guitar and bass, but he learned those in the house. he is mostly heart yelling in the background. liam yelled and played guitar too much, harmonica too little, and melodeon as much as he could. he also brought a mandolin and a melodica that he did not play at all. cj played the fiddle and tin whistle, giggled, and got yelled at, even when it was not her fault. pat gethin recorded the whole thing at 37ft studios in rockland, massachusetts, and then mixed and mastered it some weekends later. scott k. monteiro stayed up way too late to draw the art. hutch helped liam make sense of it.

“Actually, that's one reason they are a punk band (though they've long since dispensed with punk's breakneck tempos) and not a folk band (though that's how they categorize themselves) and definitely not an Americana band. Boring college kids with bright futures in upper-middle management like modern folk. And Americana bands, which are generally easy to market, didn't start getting together because of collective unemployment. The Old Edison's guttural, raspy, gang-vocal bro-downs chronicle chainsmoking, binge drinking, playing guitar with buddies, and lots of gnarly shit that happened at one time or another. In at least one instance, they sanctify Bob Dylan, Ernest Hemingway, and the Bouncing Souls in a single, haggard breath. Their frequent references to their own boozin' and jammin' convey a blatant obviousness that's endearing in its sincerity. In the most literal sense, they sing about what we hear them doing. ” — Barry Thompson, The Boston Phoenix


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