We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Stalemate

by Poor Me

supported by
Chris
Chris thumbnail
Chris Poor Me are the best and most talented dudes in the universe. FFO: TAITA-era Thrice + Kid Dynamite + Bad Religion. Favorite track: Mistakes Can Be Made (Stalemate Mix).
/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $5 USD

     

1.
Heartsick 03:18
And it feels as though it’s natural – as the wasp sucks at honey found abroad. Coping is incision – that stinging in the chest. Such frightful bionomic guarding of the nest. The blight has spread. And some say the sick had it birthed; or maybe the worst helped them learn. When purging is pure, no one’s concerned with the cure. Now everything is heartsick, she believes. Though most can’t feel the sick devouring. Hearts are cold. Now everything is heartsick past belief. These parasitic pests, the cure is second best. So eager to regress. I know it’s cultural; so profound – countless bodies drag aground. Vacate your position – your gaze is burning red. Such frightful bionomic guarding of the nest. The blight has spread. And some say the sick had it birthed. When purging is pure, she’ll find a cure. Now everything is heartsick, she believes. Though most can’t feel the sick devouring. Hearts are cold. Now everything is heartsick past belief. These parasitic pests, the cure is second best. The guarding of the nest. How much compassion can you bleed? This blight has ravaged everything. Soak out the nest in gasoline. She’s heartsick past belief. Though most can’t feel the sick devouring. Hearts are cold. Now everything is heartsick past belief. These parasitic pests, the cure is second best. It’s parasitic – these heartsick souls. Blight unfolds and spreading cold.
2.
Lovestruck 03:13
Believe you are the means; all are trending to resent you. Believe you are the means; you were destined to. Fuck the cause; they’re feigning. Fuck the pain; no longer raging. Gone like flashes, burned the gas. Youngsters needs a real scene. I believe you are the means. I believe you are the means. We’re not the scene. We just belong – playing it strong. We’re not the scene. It lives and breathes – pass it along. We’re not the scene. We’re not the scene. Oh, no. We are the claimants to hope. A blown radio gives us perspective and scope. I’m grateful for you – For the love. For the love. For the love. Believe you were the means; I’m still learning through your memory. Believe you were the means we aspired through. Fuck the sides we’re taking. Where’s the love we’re not returning? Gone like flashes, burned the gas. Youngsters needs a real scene. I believe you are the means. I believe you are the means. We’re not the scene. We just belong – playing it strong. We’re not the scene. It lives and breathes – pass it along. We’re not the scene. We’re not the scene. Oh, no. We have forgotten the ache. The bend where we break – and with the bravest at stake… We couldn’t be saved. For the love. For the love. For the love. For the scene.
3.
The Sun retreated – its private place behind the peak. Blushed its embarrassment for all to see. So we persisted to witness this creeping dark. When all was beautiful just fell apart. So join, my brother; you can’t see so far. Is that the life you want? Let’s sacrifice it all. There wasn’t much for saving. We’re welcoming your tired eyes – we’ll give you back your sight. Although you’re broken, you still dissent? So brother, why aren’t you changing? The truth is bright. We share all the answers to fear the night. If every instance, your worldly cause just falls apart. Then join, my brother; you can’t see so far. Is that the life you want? Let’s sacrifice it all. There wasn’t much for saving. We’re welcoming your tired eyes – we’ll give you back your sight. Although you’re broken, you still dissent? So brother, why aren’t you changing? The truth is bright. We share all the answers to fear the night. Why aren’t you, why aren’t you? All the ways that we resolve. We sacrifice it all for new configurations -- I’m never changing.
4.
Sugarcane. Sugarcane. Sugarcane never breaks. I’m begging educators – teach me to lead. I’ll be your sweetest sugar, show me the way. Educators, I can see authority swings such sweet sugarcane. Sugarcane. Sugar. Witness the power to learn our cultural yearnings of taking control. Bitterness in my throat. Have I been a victim of your plot. All my life, been the culprit all along? Is everyone a stone for stepping from? And is this life just sugarcane? Imagine privilege as flood, of money, like blood – now damming the flow. Freedom enrolled and sold. Have I been a victim of your plot. All my life, been the culprit all along? Is everyone a stone for stepping from? And is this life just sugar and canes? Sugarcane (never breaks) Caned (never breaks) Caned; we’re not supposed to bleed. Educators, I can see authority swings such sweet sugarcane.
5.
Classwar 03:02
Well played. Touché. Well played. Touché. Well played. A cliché that nobody dared to shake. Nestled in spines – cribs so fine. A sycophant age in its bloom. The bigots were brought to the showroom. And who do you trust? I’m, like, a smart person. Just shut it up. No, thanks. Don’t think me stupid to doubt you… (I really thought it through) I can’t help thinking… Who gets screwed playing in your system? How dare you challenge the truth. Well played. Touché. Well played. Touché. Cheap praise they laughingly ripped away. Ethics for sale – tooth or nail. A sycophant age in its bloom. The bigots were brought here to coax you. Don’t think me stupid to doubt you… (I really thought it through) I can’t help thinking… Who gets screwed playing in your system? How dare you challenge the truth. Well played. Touché. Well played. Touché. This oath is class war – tandem discourse. No wished reward. Here’s giving to lofty goals. Ugliness took the polls. Touché. Well played. And they never cared at all. And they never cared. No, they never cared at all.
6.
When my papa heard that I’d enlist at twenty-three. With rising panic in his chest, he called to me. This world gives carrots to crooks, and my son won’t carry a club. Keep your benevolence hushed. I feel they’ll bait your love away when duty serves. Keep your benevolence hushed. Now listen close; you can’t just take on the world. You don’t think at all. I raised you right – the righteous leave the fight. You’ll need to trust me. I’m begging you, please. My papa’s one, his only son, now had to choose. This family gave you all the tools you could use, But you must sharpen your wit. Their solve is short-term at best. And this family settled at cost. Your grand-pop serves here just beneath that bed of rock. This world is crooked, papa. Now, listen close. I’m off to take on the world. Cause’ I’ve seen it all. You raised me right – the righteous end the fight. You’ll need to trust me…. And talking is cheap. I’ve been around long enough. Their talk is cheap. It’s my belief – I’ve been around long enough. I’ve had enough. I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen it all. Seen it all. It all. So, I guess I’m sorry papa. This world has got me scared to death. You raised me right – I’m off to take on the world.
7.
I crossed out of lane before I awoke. I buckled in close and prayed for a God, as I slipped from consciousness. That smile on your face now twists like my body did. Now I just lie here in pain. I guarantee in this life that mistakes can be made. Guaranteed to challenge myself – but I can’t commit to a change. It’s such a shameful coloring; defeated – depleted of hope. I’m a coward. It’s such a shameful coloring; defeated – depleted of hope. I’m a coward. So mercy me, when you leave. I gave up on God and called for the nurse – a daydream had startled me. That smile on your face may never return to me. I couldn’t lie there and wait. I guarantee in this life that mistakes can be made. Guaranteed to challenge myself – but I can’t commit to a change. Or maybe I’ll quit – I can’t commit to a change. It’s such a shameful coloring; defeated – depleted of hope. I’m a coward. It’s such a shameful coloring; defeated – depleted of hope. I’m a coward. I carry this guilt – Carry this guilt to the grave. To the grave.
8.
Strawman 03:17
You’re scraping up to fill the need. With scraps enough to fill your daydreams. You’re tied up. Tied up and getting by. You’ve filled your daydreams up with… Lies – distant stories. Yea, you like to daydream you woke in a different shell. So sorry that you’ve got a blood count that endlessly keeps you bound. Just go slowly; collection arrives. They say slowly, straw men can thrive. They lie. They built a straw man to feel they merit the life. But it’s a lie. They say slowly… Grind out that work thing and scrape off the leeches who feed on what we have built. So sorry. Yea, you missed the heyday, and newcomers pay to play. An ageless trade where worth is weighed. Just go slowly; collection arrives. They say slowly, straw men can thrive. They lie. They built a straw man to feel they merit the life. But it’s a lie. But it’s a lie used all the time. Slowly, collection arrives. Just go slowly, collection arrives. Slowly, straw men can thrive. They lie. They built a straw man to feel they merit the life. But it’s a lie.
9.
Fauxhawk 03:05
Sing hallelujah! Sing hallelujah! These silly praises do nothing for us. A sky declining. A people rising. So many drunk on the punch, like you told ‘em. And we’ve been looking toward the stars for millennia now. Division in the masses, church, and the house. Do you bring the light? Do you deal in guilt? I want an answer that scales the estate. Forces working – distorting your name… And who’s the one with power to change? Sing hallelujah! Can you ease this affliction? Are you an invention? Are you in attention? ‘Cause you’ve done nothing for us. Sing hallelujah! Sing hallelujah! These silly praises do nothing, nothing at all. So come on, so come on… There’s division in the masses, church, and the house. Do you bring the light? Can we strike a deal? Stop taking credit from the people. I want an answer that scales the estate. Forces working – distorting your name… And who’s the one with power to change? Sing hallelujah! Can you ease this affliction? Are you an invention? Are you in attention? They’ve been keeping the faith. Who’s keeping ‘em safe? If He loves anybody, that’s a shock. Sing hallelujah! I want an answer that scales the estate. Forces working – distorting your name… And who’s the one with power to change? Sing hallelujah! Sing hallelujah! Sing hallelujah! And who’s the one with power to change? Sing hallelujah! Sing hallelujah! Sing hallelujah!
10.
A reckoning on its way, from the margins that missed the page. ‘Cause how does the sandbox play when they’ve taken the clay? Are you lucid? Are we moving? In the sandbox, are we all done, my friends? Once you’re angry (you’re so passionate) Well my friends, you’ve lost your flames. Can’t you see all of the players? Oh, we – not blameless spectators. Perpetrators. Contention is hard to verve, when the challenge is much deserved. ‘Cause how can ascension spur without striking a nerve? Are you lucid? Are we moving? In the sandbox, are we all talk, my friends? Once you’re angry (you’re so passionate) Well my friends, you’ve lost your flames. Can’t you see all of the players? Oh, we – not blameless spectators. Perpetrators. Don’t play this down. Once, you burned, burned (burned) passion was firm. Then you learned, learned (learned) passion was dirt. Dirt! Dirt! Playing us out. Perp! Perp! Seizing the dirt… Are you are all right, my friends? Once my friends, you had that flame. But my friends, do you still believe in taking to heart all the players? You aren’t apart from the takers. My friends. My friends, my friends.

about

It’s intriguing how our minds change, and the reasons for that change. Sometimes there are notable moments. Sometimes we only realize we’ve become different people when we look back over the span of years. In college, I started this band alongside several other responsibilities. Being in a punk rock band and working management shifts often led to a sort of identity crisis. The two aspirations didn’t feel like a logical fit.

For years, I compartmentalized both avenues since I enjoyed them both, and the separate lifestyles received investment at separate times. But the further I get from my college days, the more this perspective strikes me as odd. New experiences tend to compete with both narratives of who I claim to be. Strangely enough, I wrote my thesis about punk culture, and how White suburbanites tended to move away from the culture as they began to work. As I get older, I wonder how many of us think we have make that choice. I think about the trajectory of such things quite often, and I question my confidence that a good life can be lived within those old containers.

I love this music. I love what I do outside of this band. Picking one to give my all seems unnecessarily sacrificial, yet pressure to submit to a singular identity is a regular encounter. Identity narratives are powerful, and probably unavoidable, used to build and validate boxes to challenge ourselves, to guide improvement, and to assess commitment. But when we don’t measure up, when we spill out of our commitments, I wonder if we’re too hard on ourselves. I often see our struggles demonized in those instances, and when self-loathing and denial follows close behind, some walls may be best torn down.
I project into the world differently with every record. Creative empowerment in early lyricism came from sorting through my own experiences.

Though you’ll still catch much of that on this record, I’ve stretched to welcome the uneasiness of writing external narratives. Several songs on the record stem from the experiences of friends or fictional protagonists. In some cases, I chose perspectives that I’ve not much in common. It may seem strange to write this way, but I believe how you permit others to feel can be as revealing as speaking from the heart.
I hope you enjoy Stalemate. The tracks are about the willingness to change our minds about ourselves and others, forgiving ourselves for not being ‘ourselves,’ and forgiving others for not being who we want them to be for our sake. Contradictions are a part of life. Not all of them limit our ability to expand forward.

credits

released September 3, 2021

Engineered by Chris Fogal at Black In Bluhm Studio.
Artwork by Kodi Delaney.

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Poor Me Denver, Colorado

Formed in 2010, Denver, CO’s Poor Me has always been a passion project; an alchemical merging of charged aggression and killer songwriting. Catharsis comes and goes in a mass of sweating bodies, fists raised to the stage. This is skate punk dragged into the now—where fast drums, muscular riffs, and razor-wire lyrics unite to document a world more fucked than ever. ... more

contact / help

Contact Poor Me

Streaming and
Download help

Shipping and returns

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like Poor Me, you may also like: