Get all 10 Saint Idiot releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Thin Places, Alternate Utopias from a Nostalgic Future, Utopia, Warp & Weft, Talk, Terracotta, Bubblewrap, Not Some Fantasy, and 2 more.
1. |
Mount Child
03:51
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they're here!
they're here!
no-name brand glass for breakfast
that's the ticket
cheap cigarettes and alcohol
christmas lights in may
light the nicotine haze
BLOW!
oh, they're here
lost clothin in the forest, the stories
never bored with sip sip sippin my 3 bottle hand grip
sand grows into rock
like dragging paint
down the sidewalk
no wave can rise
without name and form
buzzin neon sweet street
back alley honesty
split-screen caffeine pill dreamin'
oh, they're here
tellin' jokes, earning high scores
turns out the high horse
is taking them all home
sand!
love is not a magnitude
the earth is not a bitch
irony is killing us softly now
so go bop with the big kids
they're here!
they're here!
Mount Child!
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2. |
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I imagine my body
verified by the boundary of yours
then emigrating
pouring your weight through me
you smell like
I'm not getting any sleep tonight
and I'm burning, oh and I'm swelling
with some kind of patient violence
they're trying to build bombs
to describe this
when my face burns private thoughts
I am my own favorite lost cause
how. The. Hell do I come across
if only, if only
begs the question
It'd make sense that your faces would blend
on an overhead projector,
or that yours would take over
in the end
it's ok I know
it's an unstable situation
that I'm flickering through
where I suck on my words
you spill them out the sides of your mouth,
and all over yourself.
if only, if only
if only, if only
this does not control me
so I pray to my reflection
in a convenience store window
cause I got me some pretty thoughts
for some pretty people
if only if only
this bomb won't define me
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3. |
Tiltshift
03:58
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reckless, I skip-needle, leave no footprint
phantom limb of my past self muted
nowhere to land in the air like helpless
deep cough, restless awareness
I'm a planet like an applecore in space
counting my embarrassments, my ass in retrograde
motion, a missile, I'mma self-seeking
I don't bring peace, but pieces
when I'm speaking
time is pulling somersaults
right above your bed
I've had my two pulls
on the two-pull cigarette
getting over high winter fever fat tire
cleaving, tiltshift, save me a space
in the sunbeam,
reverse me losing
make my dreams lucid
the lesson in the music
something I should know
wind and dust is my name
never happened is my name
good bye mister is my---
quiet now... I go
time is pulling somersaults
right above your bed
I've had my two pulls
on the two-pull cigarette
your skin warping in my signal
hi-fi dreamer
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4. |
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headlight charging wolfish eyes glowing red
beast up ahead, beast running dead
I'm always only sneaking up on real life
every ellipsis wants to speak
disobedient objects unbearable
try to make it look like an accident
in your bones, questions, apertures,
cross-legged, lamp-lit, Anthropocene
and money just feels like wind when you spend it
origination interdependent
show me a bible that's falling apart
and I'll show you how to end it
one, two holocene
I let other bodies orbit me
I'm softly killed by irony
better haunted poems roaming free
hindsight 20/18
improvise with entropy
one, two, sure I do
I close my eyes and see right through you
channeling the energy of a
hydroplaning eighteen-wheeler
I'm always only barely in control
of this thing that I'm driving
I'm driving
I'm driving
in your eye my hopes live a life separate
inertia desperate
this pointilistic Geiger counter laughter that I'm after
I want to kick the shit out of a masterpiece, just to see
what the world would do to me
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5. |
Nothing's Changed
03:25
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nothing's changed
I smell like bark and moss
and I'm bleeding
nothing's changed
small-and-flawed-did-not-rehearse
who runs the show
in your private life?
nothing's changed
tree masses
lakeland smoke
crashing through
my etceteras
I was born in the leaves in the leaves in the leaves ...
and nothing's changed
tree sap drips
off my penis
under my bark
unclean waters swirl
I've rang phone numbers
just like wedding bells
I'm not some saint
I'm a perfectionist
I've felt better
out here in the mud
what a versatile
little accident
nothing's changed
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6. |
Higher Resolutions
04:27
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(make it make it/don't fake it)
chipped tooth on the cassette
oh, how everything sweats
I'd pee in a bag
if it would make me some friends
laughing pornophonic in this heat
oh, how everything breathes
welcome to my overproduced
anime summer dream
warmer temperatures and higher resolutions
hi-fi dreaming straight to tape
and six dollar matinees
some might call it truth or dare
god just calls it saturdays
saturdays
porno mags fill concrete cracks like mortar,
derelict motors, shoes that mark goal posts
howitzer soccer balls carpet bomb apartment blocks
thumb cocked, cheeky, some asshole with a sunburn
children's heads open on the sun-rippled pavement
cause when we play hopscotch its hardcore, no rain checks
them ratty-two-shoe individuals
dat rat king infected with the love unconditional, tho
flash-washed skin on the floor sweat spinning past point
slippery, the noise turns my eyes into bashed-in windows
no we don't have curfews here, nobody counting favors here
dead heat of regret is how everything sweats
I wish I'd come more often here
time flies so the spider's web is not vacant
don't get caught hoping for a post-credits fade in
60Hz hum in the morning coming out of my mouth
the room can't spin if the three of us weigh the bed down
warmer temperatures and higher resolutions
there's an old dead dog laughing in the cloud
rake the grass with my ribs, make it rain now
warmer temperatures and higher resolutions
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7. |
King of the Hill
05:05
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some blinking tower in the distance
some blinking tower off wide
I've left so much everywhere
I'm paring, I'm light
come get me I'm the king of the hill, I'm the king of the hill
shitting myself on the top of the world, cause I'm the king of the hill
I'm too pure-hearted for the boredom chic peeps and the too cool for schoolers,
I'm the king of the hill come get me I'm the king of the hill
I'm borderless unbroken eye contact
in your chorus, I'm the la la la
roll the hills by bullet train
loneliness is on the brain
that's my soaked sneakers
at the space heater, baby
dry my socks with
cans of hot coffee, maybe
next time you see me
don't be surprised if I've eaten lately
you know where I'll be
I write my manifesto walking
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8. |
Legend Trippin'
07:28
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The mind hotel, cardboard city
like Orion's belt tightening
It used to be just posturing
now the hunger's getting a little real
Osiris, this clan violence
what my Jesus hand requires
the science is not flawless
God is putting out your fires
at heaven's gate, got taken for the dunce
reverse roulette—you're dead all but once
heavy stars traversing
garbage flowing over us
it's in our house now
I'm writing for the sideshow
but I'm saying more with typos
I know what is on my mind though
my sole addiction is meaning in contradiction
make the devil meditate
then you'll get the picture
repeatedly made possible by neon
we do it all professional like Leon
in the haze over Osaka
that yen euro and dollar
plastic melting in your wallet
its a form of magic, to attract it without asking,
laughing, St. Idiot is rapping on the casket,
watch it! he's no kind of has-been
tough bastard, like a HAZMAT suit ass-backwards
he's comin'
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Saint Idiot Edmonton, Alberta
Saint Idiot (Tomáš Andel) is a Slovak-Canadian art pop musician living in Edmonton. While Tomáš is often writing his way through all that can come up when one risks feeling deeply in an often unfeeling world—doubt, grief, desolation—his music has been described as reverent, downright ecstatic—a "music of surprises.” It is often compared to the music of Sufjan Stevens and Björk. ... more
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