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Hasta La Bye Bye

by The Oswalds

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Nathan James Leatherman
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Comes in a lovely paperboard case, with photos and such.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Hasta La Bye Bye via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Full Digital Discography

    7
    releases

    Get all 7 Camden Joy releases available on Bandcamp and save 15%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of rerouting..., roaming on, American Love, Updated Just Now, Hasta La Bye Bye, It Gets Cold - free download, and Her - free download. , and , .

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1.
Rascacielo 04:03
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From un rascacielo you can fall pretty fucking far
 In sickness and in health--well, wait until he sees these scars
 One night young lovers glimpse each other ‘cross the floor then theyʼre waking up together in the morgue From a skyscraper amigo you can fall quite far they shot the singer who sang about the singer they shot who sang about a man who possesses all they want
 like that fat blossom thick with ants that thrills our Lord and they’ll shoot this singer soon once they get bored it goes like a blur in a mirror don’t bother lookin’ backward There’s that feeling in the morning like today’s another broken day Love will not remain: all that stays is fear and hate so sings the spider from inside her shining cage the one place safe from le declive but the demons los monstruos nothing keeps them at bay Now daddy’s seeing things and mama’s gotta forked tongue A grey haze on the lake is glistening like nicotine gum from darkened doorways they keep calling me for some this is nowhere near the thing that once we thought was fun lieutenant earned the opium watch burning Washington You best knock off this shit kid a fore they kick the shit outta you Dream a hero’s death, they would not waste a bullet on you friends now forever find they never care what’s true it’s warm and wet the blood filling your shoes ain’t it sad when innocence finally gets its due
2.
Just Over the Border 02:58
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Just over the border a land like no other las flores de Badiriguato come over the border Just over the border find your broken brother you reach to pull him up from the gutter then you’re drawn over the border Just over the border the year was young the night they found her each one just like the other another can’t expect them to remember Just cross one more river find full billfolds of fine leather first it’s grow up and be hateful then you’re trapped over the border If you listen to the mirror, you can hear them call you over. When you find you belong nowhere, your heart will never leave here. Just over the border lay the candied cocoa stands stare into fire forever married snakes with fountain pens Just cross through the mirror feel so awful for her country some sleaze won’t be soldiers and then she... looks right at me If you listen to the mirror
3.
Opium 03:28
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When I said farewell to Whisky Hills, I meant it so those fun trips to Rum Springs they had to end. no more Mexican death breath that’s freshly minted I’m just here to say we won’t see me again. So I sold the place that faced Talkin’ Beer Mountain our times together drinking there I’ll miss said adieu to Mountain Dew with Gordon’s So I’m here just cuz this here’s the end of this. I got a new boyfriend and his name is Opium he restores my equilibrium my new highness Royal Opium things that once would make us smile now make me feel like such a child now I pledge allegiance to my one my royal highness Opium There is only room for one in my affections so this business with the cannabis will cease though our totally baked lifestyle’s become legend I’ve come to find I find no memories Marijuana now our long affair is over I felt so sure that what we had was love tho you never failed me as my daylight number at night there’s now another I dream of I got me religion my soul belongs to Opium he quells the pandemonium Lord God Almighty Opium we all grow up sometime we leave our childish ways behind there is more to life than fun there’s the sacred church of Opium You be a flying crying crocodile of vengeance You be on your knees tweeting Jesus thanks You be free from all these distracting illusions You be on your way to how it all began You be sensing all the things you thought were gone now You be getting how the holy ones transcend You be caring not so mucho who but how now You be on your way to how it all will end Witness all the bliss within this cornucopia from an iceberg of euphoria calm and cool you kill Colosio we all will die someday then all of this will float away still never will I long forget her heated breath upon my neck
4.
Her 04:38
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HER Brother better watch her she’s the daughter of a leopard and she’s not very nice. She kicks and cries and kisses you so nice. Shoots your guide and stomps off with your life. It’s too late for me I am sure. But you still have time. one night in Libramiento one night in Juarez one night in Tepetongo just doing what she says A lost night in Tacazecas with nothing close at hand the wolves came in pursuit of us we boys grew into men then one night near the capital like lions we attacked the moon had fled behind the hills and left the world black one night in bed at home alone ten nights at home in bed alone one time with a daughterless dog in Veracruz one day before the Armistice with one night left to lose One night in the mountains Carranza was betrayed took the whole battalion just to break one of his legs One night in Connecticut in 1939 they’d speak of it like yesterday if any had survived what is it that lingers on when the memory is gone it’s her she’s a death despair depth charger she’s a Titanic disaster she is fore what you are aft, er action and adventure a caramel-crusted nightmare she’s a big beautiful spider Bite you won't you hide her, she’ll reward you, she won't haunt you thorniest and hornier Christ, she is Christ in a Chrysler When the memory is gone what is it that lingers on I’m hers she’s mine First you hear a purr, then her laughter Too late for me I’m sure you still got time She’s a kitty in the rafters a tickle of her whiskers she’s a search & seizure dancer she’s a pioneering cancer Was she there in Cuernavaca? if you prod her she will answer Soy la madre of all panthers and there's nothing real about her still I swear that she is out there it is her it’s her
5.
Ashes and Beer 02:46
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ASHES AND BEER Come on Lieutenant! Bring the gun. Draw futility in to those lungs
 A tarry substance on the tongue Viva la revolución Come in, Padre. Leave the Son. El Diablo’s a just fine lantern. bienvenidos everyone Come in, Padre, your eyes may burn from ashes and beer ashes and beer it’s happening why be glad to be alive clearly anything can thrive salted fields agleam at night killed but still they will survive yellow nails, muddy teeth we live here beyond belief in blood on the door it says welcome to hell please watch your head ashes and beer I saw Jesus Malverde
 walking hurt and wounded, man
 I was leading the teasing Honduran Hortensia into the other land I saw Jesus Malverde
 and I know that he saw me Ever since that fair day I care almost nothing for anybody I swear I saw Jesus Malverde
 Face down in the Rio Grande Going doo-wah-diddy-diddy-dum-did you hear getting soaked in ashes and beer what’s below the bottom rung self-contempt as a weapon what follows the end of days eternity within a cage
6.
It Gets Cold 04:24
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It Gets Cold Sure, we remembered you Every night it’s true But forgetting ourselves we treat best friends as enemies Such is your destiny, once in our memory It gets cold Hey what’s their names have come back home all sad-eyed and lonesome que dice boys la morfina y cocaina it’s cool no yeah we saw your names ain’t exactly the fever I ordered up neither, guy yeah it gets cold Sing, sing, sing... sing to us
 sing through that banged-up mouth of being burned alive in Christ’s undying light And so Dad sings the thing, as lightning is darkening We are the commoners. We know our failures. We are the failures. We know our common worth. And once we learn to read and write we’ll find out why we fight
7.
Without a Parachute 04:25
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on the inside i was standing at the bottom of esteem and i was without a parachute how is it i’m the only one arriving at this function feeling i’m without a parachute you know. you feel the same. like every cloud in the sky is a kite she flies every stone on the beach looks like a heart to me light in our bones somehow every ray of light at night so bright it blinds me now take these wings of wax my son see how long your luck will run without a parachute make a joke about it but the ground is fast approaching all of us without a parachute you say you feel the same they head north in bare feet, in the darkened desert cold
 on a dirt path lit by stars in trailers gangsters stole lights up ahead crows in the road it’s cold as shit and ugly say you love me it’s 1 am we’re freezing like i please you p-p-please please me “i know you feel the same.” this was what the guy at the bar said to me, one night. “i’d like you to meet my wife, she is death to all life.” it is her... smoke burning my eyes like how you recognize a spider bite, it is her Her eyes searching for the Pleiades Her hair swirling in the blossom breeze Her smile shining like the moonlit leaves I’m hers that’s all I can ever be these are days plain uninspiring often nothing feels real clever
 all my sarcasm and banter why the bother gets no better
 purple mountains majesty a miracle she found me every human said my dad enjoys ice cream and liberty her eyes melting hearts like ice cream cones her ascending through my icy bones her lips tick upon the microphone this here this is what we call my home think you hit the bottom then the dark finds you unsure there’s no bottom you keep falling parachute’s for her it’s the way things will be now much as things always were everybody said my dad hates a police officer her eyes searching for the Pleiades her hair swirling in the blossom breeze her smile shining like the moonlit leaves I’m hers that’s how it will always be I’m hers that’s all I can ever be
8.
My Mind's Alive 01:47
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My mind’s alive with many things. I think it’s love. It looks like rain. you won’t talk you’re like a clock that only ticks and chases chicks just a fearsome hairy hero with a toothpick for a dick My mind’s alive with many things. It feels like love. It smells like rain. I dreamed I saw a mounted man Malverdi was his name but he hit the Rio Grande and he died there on his face well it’s high high high and we’ll giddy-up all day once the spider conquers all the land then gives it all away My mind’s alive with many things. It could be love. It could be rain. some people love their country some just love themselves some people think we’re idiots if we believe in hell Some people love a vanished truth some people love their shoes some people love the stuff they smoke I do too! then one day I met Malverdi at the New York Stock Exchange blessing spiders and traders, with a headstone for a face
 it’s a high high high yippie yi high yippie yay once Zendejas moves the good weed up from jail in Monterrey it’s a high high high yippie yi high yippie yay gonna fuck some federales up if they come this way My mind’s alive with many things. I think it’s love. It looks like rain. It’s a hi yi yi yippie yi hee yippie yay as Pancho Villa said to Pershing: “FUCK THE US of A!”
9.
Oswalds Fight Song 02:03
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Oh dutiful brother, how goes the war? All of your courage in service of bastards we once cursed now barely a word. You’re still my brother that’s who you are: badly crumpled body, hunted and haughty and humbled, injury fatal never. Once you saw color, but god how it hurt. You saw that the hunger and laughter whatever the border makes us all each other. I remember a road where now there is fear A soldier’s beard a child’s ear to lead us out of here So fight for a button, fall for a flag Hot as an oven, honored but hidden, zipped in your black body bag
10.
Don't Hafta 03:48
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Don’t Hafta I blacked out last night but this time it was different. I dreamed I was American Smell the burning robber in assaulting seized-up Maine tragedy brings neighbors powdered doughnuts in the driving rain You don’t have to Nah you don’t hafta nah nah nah Woke the fuck up again, but this time... I felt different. My soul, my god, they’ve paved it Everybody’s heart hurts itʼs how you handle it that counts. Honestly the thought just hangs there ʻwhatʼs another quarter-ounce?ʼ then you won’t have to hate you won’t have to hate You won’t have to hate yourself every day Last words I heard, “y’sure that’s wise?” Woke up passed out, not surprised Oh sorrowful mother, dutiful daughter Do you sense an answer? You’re such a liar 
 You will know when the horse returns without its rider she swallowed the lie and followed the spider she swallowed the bird to catch the spider
 Twenty dime bags sewn up inside her
 jet planes of cocaine set down beside her perhaps sheʼll die Chattanooga Buddha again some reason he’s bristlin' Peace is not the answer
 and war is not an answer
 there will be no answer
 if you can’t find your phone you don’t have to hate always with the hate yourselves every day  
11.
Something Must Be Done 04:32
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Something Must Be Done I was minding my own business when my conscience came alive Overhead a distant needle silver in the sky On his deathbed my dear dad said justice hurts... He went back home ten plenty times Still the same no outlet signs On his deathbed my dear dad said just four words my son something must be done something must be done something must be done Sleep friends deeply like children you should see your eyes when reality seeps in yeah I’m sorry for the things I have done as do I them all again and again they seem such fun look at all my friends Drove to Tijuana for a cup of coffee saw the mother and daughter Pendejo bought the magazine it seemed so funny the mercado there was taking his fake money we’re laughing running out to the truck waving the picture Willie found out about us down on the corner found the mother and daughter On his deathbed my dear dad said just these words always remember our mother and daughter our only mother and daughter what’s supposed to come after? a nearly naked mother with a daughter tightly wrapped needs a dollar for a cough she can’t admit she has john hey take a look at that and I’m thinking: Something must be done!
12.
Killing Shoes 03:37
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Killing Shoes Dressed in her killing shoes she walked right up to me hey don’t I recognize you? oh god don’t hurt me please she laughed and said relax let’s not pretend you’d leave I glimpsed you cross the floor could tell you wanted me Her earrings caught the light of the cold crescent moon I felt my mouth go dry I simply could not move she spun a web of lies she swore it was the truth I wore myself out in fright she wore those killing shoes I wasn’t always this chica crashing in front of you gorgeous and radiant once I was just like you I was a kid with dreams they woke me up oh I grew I wasn’t always the one who wore the killing shoes I feel real bad for her she can’t help what she is I’m not the victim here I leaned in for a kiss I’m just a mirror of stone all flipped around inside I’m just some virgin whore I’m some guy’s widowed bride you will not ever face such things as I have survived you must not cry my love it’s just a spider bite she’s just a desperate thing only comes out at night you glimpse her cross the floor and love her till you die she’s like the rest of us she can’t tell wrong from right she’s just a dream I know I’ll wake up and be fine

about

>Something recognizable but strange. Mexico as dreamed by an American. A mongrel sound, narcocorridos as garage rock. Spanish phrases sometimes said wrong. Don’t misclassify this as Latino music. Lyrics that bring you up short. Honest songs. Personal impact. Big worries, real-world. Characters bleeding (sometimes literally) from one story into another. There’s a couple who meet in the last song and die in the first. In the background of several songs are people trying to get into the country. There’s a barker working the door of an opium den. There’s a landscape of characters who enable America’s drug culture. I simply thought that if I juxtaposed them just right they might shed light on one another.
>The key lyric on the album is “I was minding my own business when my conscience came alive.” From that everything unfolds. You can live your life without concern for what goes on to make you happy, or you can wonder who sewed these jeans and who grew this weed. Which can lead you to ask yourself how much you’re a part of the wars being fought in your name, how much your drug use fuels the drug wars down south. Are we responsible for torture, for governmental destabilization? Or are such questions futile, because it’s impossible to escape the bad guys?
>Nearly every song has a spider spinning a web, a web of love, a web of addiction. The spider commands an army and there is no choice but to follow. She is a drug that will kill you with visions of bliss. She is a beautiful woman who is no good for anybody. She is a seducer who takes you slowly, as a black widow devours her mate. She is a dream you cannot wake up from.
>There’s also some Mexican history. The Mexican Revolution forms the background for much of “Her.” A legend named Jesus Malverde, the patron saint of narcotraficantes, pops up in several songs. There are references to a pair of assassinations, the killing in 1993 of Luis Donaldo Colosio (“Opium”) and the murder in 1920 of Jose Venustiano Carranza (“Her”).
>Drinks and drugs get the gringos through the day while the workers come and go, leaving behind a tidy yard. Americans are like amnesiacs when it comes to Mexico

credits

released October 1, 2015

Words and music: Camden Joy

Camden Joy: lead vocals, rhythm guitar
Mark Donato: drums, backing vocals
Mark Lerner: bass, backing vocals, etc.

Produced by Mark Lerner.

Recorded and mixed by Jason Sarubbi
at Split Rock Studio, New Paltz, NY.

Additional recording by ML at home. Good guitar on “Opium” by John Burdick. Mastered by Mike Judeh at Dubway Studios, New York, NY. Designed by ML at Rag & Bone Shop. Photographs by Surian Soosay (front), Calsidyrose (back), and David Agren (inside).

© 2015 by Camden Joy/ASCAP.

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Camden Joy Middlebury, Vermont

lo-fi americana and caustic wit swirl about a 1970s suburban garage where a 1950s country band plays timeless originals and succinct gems.

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