When We Arrive

by BRITE LINES

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about

This is debut full-length record from Seattle Indie-Americana act, Brite Lines, recorded over the course of a year with producer Sam Anderson in Seattle, Washington.

credits

released 19 May 2015

Brite Lines is:
Stanley Crescendo
Benjamin Conrad Gore
Zachary R. Gore
Graham Klym

All words/music by ZR Gore
except line: “For whatever … in the sea” borrowed from ee cummings
Music arranged by Brite Lines
Executively Produced by David LaFrance and Steven Lee
Produced, recorded, and mixed by Sam Anderson at Chartwell Studio (Seattle, WA)
Mastered by Steve Turnidge at UltraViolet Studios (Seattle, WA)
Album Design by Tamara Miller with Zachary R. Gore
Copyright © 2015 Brite Lines
Proudly self-released.

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about

BRITE LINES Seattle, Washington

BRITE LINES has been playing throughout Seattle at venues such as Columbia City Theater and the Tractor Tavern and are building a reputation for putting on an exciting live show in front of their expanding fan base.

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Track Name: Moonstruck
Be kind to yourself. You, at least, deserve that. You give yourself hell, as a matter of fact. You can hide all but a trace--I see hurt warring all over your face. Warring all over your face!

Maybe this comes too soon? Maybe I’m not the one who’s supposed to tell you, but you are the moon. You’ve got no more wishing to do. Some days you can hide all but a trace--I see shadows warring all over your face. Warring all over your face!

Your love’s a sad song I’ve got stuck in my head: recalling lines wrong while truth springs in its stead. You can hide all but a trace--I see hurt warring all over your face. Warring all over your face!

I don’t want to be right!
Track Name: This Gap
Every day feels strange when you’re eight hundred miles away from the one you love (from the one you love.) You could talk for a bit. Every subject’s inadequate for the one you love (for the one you love.) I’m sorry I don’t have the words to bridge this gap. I wish I did.

It’s so hard to wait when you’re challenging your faith and the one you need’s so far out of reach. And it makes it hard to start when your heart beats so far apart from the one you love (from the one you love.) I’m sorry I don’t have the words to bridge this gap. I wish I did.

I find comfort sometimes in songs sung ‘fore I was born. See, a lot of things have changed but what I feel’s been felt before. Songs have been written by the masters, by tune-builders and word-crafters. The words I sling are the ones I reach from my place clutching the floor. I’m sorry I don’t have the words to bridge this gap. I wish I did.
Track Name: Ain't So Bad
There hasn’t been a day in nine whole months I haven’t thought of you first upon waking up and I’m more than pretty sure I can’t take any more. A lot of things have changed since then: my city, my job, my car, the emotional space I’m in… so can you leave me again?

I’ve got friends that try to comfort me. They say, “You’ve got to approach it philosophically.” Maybe being a snail ain’t so bad, yeah. No, it’s fine with me.

So while the sparrow sings its sweet melody and flies away out of reach of me, I will build my trails and trim my sails. And when the sun goes down and the sky fills with stars and the air grows cold, I won’t have to go far to find my bed. I’ll just pull in my head.

I’m lucky, I suppose, for learning to fly--for sprouting wings and keeping up with my sparrow friends. But all things must end. So I’m reunited with the earth below. I’m making amends, watching the flowers grow. Maybe soon I’ll find flying’s far from my mind.
Track Name: An Understatement
I had my heart aligned, wallpapered in a vintage kind. Warm colors, passion, and comfort intertwined. My brain, though clearly lying adjacent, when faced with a rash abasement: that I’m heartbroken now is an understatement.

Well, I long to be back home. But I can’t stand to be alone. And while I can’t stand to be alone, I can’t stand to be here, in the company of you, when I have been disowned.

I had a dream where we were, in the interest of full disclosure, eighty, in love still, and growing ever closer. That dream has turned into a nightmare, become something else. Yeah, I swear the wallpaper’s crumbling and the wall’s in disrepair.

I had so many plans, so many schemes. All that’s gone and now it seems that I lost the 'who' in my life. I exchanged it. Now the rest needs rearrangement.
Track Name: On Keeping Secrets of Ex-Lovers
Secrets kept! Don’t forget that you told me about your regrets. Now I find it kind of funny how I’m still holding onto them, but I’m not holding on to you anymore.

I’m sure that I have held onto your secrets twice as hard as I once held your hand. Darling, don’t you know that even though things didn’t go as planned, anger’s not gonna make me a dishonest man.

I’ve got a new pair of eyes: a hard, indifferent kind. They work much better. They make me stronger. I’ve got a new set of plans, I’ve got nothing to hide. State for the record now: I don’t mind.

I saw your cold, blank stare. Sweep back your long brown hair. I caught you acting there (despite your pedigree) my lady fair. “This love was real,” I declare. Well, you should know ‘cause you were there.

I saw you out last night (and not prepared for the sight!) when it dawned on me: I’d given you too much of my life. I should’ve listened when you said we couldn’t be. Well, I should’ve known that you were right.
Track Name: When We Arrive
I’m driving back to Washington ‘cause I could use the rest. Time with you’s the best, but it’s exhausting. Staring down the yellow lines escaping past my mirror, I’ll be seeing things much clearer in the morning light.

I’ll take my time going slow on this midnight drive. And, as for us, I somehow know that we’ll be fine when we arrive.

The engine hums a sad, sweet song, imitating Townes Van Zandt, while the windshield wipers dance a little off time. I sing along the best I can, but my throat wrestles my words. My tune, rendered absurd, greets every exit sign.
Track Name: Bedsheets
You called me up, said you couldn’t be here, though you wanted to. I said, “You lie. I heard what you told your man.” And when you hung up I could just picture you clutching your white bedsheets in your hands. You can’t escape from your own head, no matter what you’re telling me. Those feelings of sickness and dread just won’t seem to let you be.

So go ahead and pretend you’re escaping it—that your pretty brown eyes won’t give you away. But while your eyes may have no trouble faking it, to some people, know what your absence will say. You can’t escape from your own head, no matter what you’re telling me. Those feelings of sickness and dread just won’t seem to let you be. Please don’t call here again. You know I won’t be answering.

I considered you the bravest friend I had. But now you’re less a fire, more a flame. You’re blowing out, still bargaining with the wind. The only vestige of that old brave friend is her name. You can’t escape from your own head, no matter what you’re telling me. Those feelings of sickness and dread just won’t seem to let you be. Please don’t call here again. You know I won’t be answering.
Track Name: Haunted
Jessica moved from state to state, leaving polka dots of broken hearts in her wake. She truly believed someday that she’d settle down, but until that day she’d find a love in each town. Aaron knew a little bit of her past (how she’d had a few loves that’d just never last.) He thought he could be different! He could be the thing that she’d need, but when she’d leave he’d plead, “I could be everything you ever wanted. I could make you see that not every town is haunted.”

Jess had a bug for making boy’s heads fly. She would take what she wanted and leave the rest behind. Most had their own goals, not dissimilar to hers. The arrangements they made meant only words. Aaron was fine with that plan at the start (he could try his best to disconnect from his heart.) But, as time went on, he knew his roots had grown deep. Before long he’d tell her what he really means. He’d say, “I could be everything you ever wanted. I could make you see that not every town is haunted.”

She won’t change. It’s over. No one could ever love her like you did and you know it. Leave it to her to blow it.
Track Name: Prisoner of War
Oh, Sarah, you married a twelve-gauge because you knew he’d keep you safe. You claim that your last man—he was a hand grenade. So compared to then, you’re doing great.

Growing up, your Pa was no less than a bomb and your Ma taught you that’s how it’d be. She said, “In this god damned age, the only way to stay sane is find a man who won’t go away and sacrifice your father’s name. I know you’ll tell your kids the same. Take it from me.”

Oh, Sarah, you married a switchblade because you knew he’d keep you safe. You claim that your last man—well, he was a twelve-gauge. So compared to then, you’re doing great.

But times have changed from what they were. While your mother was well-meaning, she didn’t know that a woman don’t need a weapon anymore. Sarah, I know that you don’t need me but I love you just the same. And I think that I know what you mean when you whisper you’re a prisoner of war.

I don’t want to be your hand grenade, your twelve-gauge, or your switchblade. I want to open up your cage and set you free.
Track Name: Greenville, WA
Okay here it goes! I could recite a thousand lines but never send me replies ‘cause I know you know all the things I could say (‘cause you feel the same way.) I feel them trembling in my stomach as they grow. I find it unfair how we feel the same ways at the ends of our days, but we’ve lost ‘us’ somewhere. And we can’t make it right as day drifts into night, resentment and doubt poisoning the air.

And somehow it’s starting to make sense that all your stories lacked an end. They started off so strong, all falling short of a dénouement. Well, I never needed one like I need now. No, I never needed one like I need now.

So fly far away! Try to leave behind all the tears that you cried. And maybe someday all the stories you tell will unravel and swell and you’ll forget it’d been any other way.

So clean up your room, pack up your bags, say your goodbyes. Check into your flight, enjoy your last meal, put my letter aside.
Track Name: Get Right
I’ll keep my head up high—won’t steal, won’t cheat, won’t lie. I’m gonna be a healthy man again. I’ll tell you what I tell myself (I keep hidden on my tip top shelf.) I want it out, I want it in, I want it out, I want it—I want to get right! I want to change to keep you in my life!

Despite my privilege, please understand: sometimes it’s hard being a man.

You’ll know me by the song I sing. You’ll know my song is true by the words I use and I am promising I’m gonna get right. I’m gonna change to keep you in my life!

So keep your head up high. I’m gonna be your joy and pride. I’m not just going to pretend to try. I’m gonna get right. I’m gonna change to keep you in my life!
Track Name: My Will
My friends? Out of reach. Feet? Buried in the beach. My clothes? All are tattered. Even the things that once mattered? Surely now, they don’t matter any more. ‘Cause I sleep under a wind-torn jib sheet I wrestled from the wreckage of a sailboat deemed defective, somehow leading to my new perspective, I’m quite sure.

I know I’ve got time ‘til I have to face the battering waves of the sea. My will is quite strong still and I’m quite content paying my rent to the beach—my guitar on my back, my clumsy old shack, and me.

I used to hate that bluebird singing his only song outside my window all day long. I only ever wanted him gone. But now when I dream, I dream up a scene where that bluebird has found his way to this island where I stay. We get along okay, trading songs until the dawn.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me) it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.