sick balloons- pillow figurines

pillow figurines (pillow fig.) is an interim ep to stave off anticipation for the forthcoming full length, 'telescopes on parade.'

this all too familiar home-fi recorded courting boasts 5 songs culled from the balloons archive, commemorating the birth of jaime marie, sister to scott, and somewhat founder of the band, by way of loaned instruments and sisterly support.

limited to 50 cassettes (march 13th) and 20 hifi lathe cut vinyl (may-ish). pressed by the fine folks at Audio Geography.

Belly Up pics from 9/29/15

Pics by: Amanda Nguyenhttps://www.facebook.com/nguyennnnn

Posted by (Thee) sick balloons. on Sunday, October 11, 2015

Booze Brothers + Balloons

Join us this monday, Oct 5th for a great cause! We'll be playing a set at Booze Brothers in support of Rollin From The Heart, an organization that strives to improve 'the lives of disadvantaged and at-risk youth and young adults by providing them the opportunity to participate in skateboarding, surfing and camping in an effort to promote less sedentary, more active life styles and make positive life choices.'

Donations at the door, children welcome! 

balloons shows upcoming…..

we play with some of our favorite people thurs 9/17 at The Merrow in Hillcrest. $8 advance / $10 at the door. 21 + up

then, in less than two weeks we play our first HEADLINING show at Belly Up in Solana Beach with our comrades Taken By Canadians, and Ocelot. 21+up, $8 advance / $10 at the door as well.

after that, we hope to take a slight hiatus from shows and finish up this record we've been working on.

hope you are all well. we will see you out and about at some point.

xxxxxoooo

Balloons @ Balboa tomm night!!!!

grab some burgers and brews, and let us serenade you with sweet fuzz. $5, 21+up. we go on at 9PM.

unfinished drapes

these are the creeps

we lit the dresses 

of all the jellyfish lawyers

and confidantes

off burnham streets

and washy elevator

hum hum hum hum

droll the skirts

these are not your halos

of worthy beams

marriage and impossible

the treachery of modernist bail

she laughs at all the pills

sunday drugs spent in harlem

self states

i was a sailor
in the jack of all trades
harboring feel folds
and chocolate dresses
strung up on high
from the tenements of a welsh driver minuet

tailgates and popcorn fluffed love
eyes to deadpan
no background checks or resonating locks

hang your hood here
drop the keys in color coded form

anne heche and the barber photoshop
cropped casks and dull lines
drawn from a favorite portrait

the wish is a wink
a handshake at best
the kiss from a pale priestess

hung like every word meant bingo
spelt and spent every waking hour
trying to menace the english language
like a poor standardized test

you're a bunny he proclaimed
dredged from the up-skirts of a normal uphinged happenstance
drolled up stored away

this is too much
not enough
too early for winter
too late for rationing
the only squirrel
backed into the corner for sport

i guess she should have said
it was only a short distance stayed
too many fake trains
wondering astray.

Heather Nation- Sirens

One of my favorite people in the world, and good friend Heather has finally commited to releasing her debut full length to the masses!

After a decade of performing as a musician, she's dedicated herself to pursuing the dream full time with no more distractions.

though you could classify some of her stuff as folk-inspired, the range of diversity goes way beyond the confines of a typical songsmith. no mere 'girl & guitar,' cascading harmonies coupled with her honest approach to narration lay the groundwork for a marriage of imagery and undeniable engagement.

at the time of writing, she only needs about $500 more to reach her kickstarter goal. if five of your friends donate $50, or fifty of your friends donate $5, or twenty donate $25 it's that easy!

she's so wonderfully genuine and down to earth, and there's not many counts on the hand of people i'd expect to make it in this world.

please take a moment to dig in and if you see fit, make a contribution to this young, budding starlet.

Heather Nation- Sirens

xoxo,

scotty.

rooty tooty tuesday

first fuzz of the year!

Oceanside get your fuzz on next friday........

down and out in the snails of found crowns

nail your teeth to the ceiling
pack your silver spoons
and failed fists

we're on lender's schedules
and force-fed angst

year of the improbable
seasoned and gratified

download your gameface
pile on heavy hands

delete requests

start it over ///

programmed claps
hard to hear in one ear

biting tongues
biting down on the buttons

run faster
mood inducing getaways

gateway hugs
slender sums

this is what it's like
being in love with the idea
of being in love

trash left like breadcrumbs
led to the queen of complications

it's not too late to wander back into the snow
the door has not been knocked
hands have not been tied

and you have not lied to yourself yet.

PW rules my world.

especially today.

She made a good go for a weeping willow
Closed all the windows and made herself a pillow
As her limbs clung to the ground
She lay her head down

Her hair was dirty in February
She was thirty in 1963
A thousand seconds more
On the oven door
She took a long deep breath
While her babies slept

Made a good go for a weeping willow

With a cold, fixed stare
She's cursed with insight
And you can't repair
She's broken inside

She made a good go for a weeping willow
She closed the windows and made herself a pillow
And took a long deep breath
While her babies slept
And the Cadillac creeps
In your body bag

And her blacks crackle and drag
Blacks crackle and drag
Blacks crackle and drag
Blacks crackle and drag
Blacks crackle and drag
Blacks crackle and drag
Blacks crackle and drag

staggering heights

i'm a screaming picturesque

of a solitary row

imagine all the friends you sold     

i'll be the Shepard's coat

and maybe we can reconcile the crest

because because you won't  afford

wear our navy drags

and call it what you used to (do)

pale the marilyns

and sleep with all the ghosts you can

leave your bags behind

the authors are all out of wind

(begging closer to the edge)

i'm a primadonna courted

by the shells of  feeling low

there was there was a friend you called

we'll scale the prison talk

and burn all of the paper surround

the townies know you're spreading thin

wear our navy drags

and call it what you used to (do)

pale the marilyns

and sleep with all the ghosts you can

leave your bags behind

the authors are all out of wind

(begging closer to the edge)

you have gone on.

quite honestly and less vaguely
i am at arms length
to hindsight and emotional reckoning
trying to understand
where we found ourselves lost from
our happiest explorations

left behind the candid dispersal
long nights
filled with dreams and idiosyncrasies
late night petaled lips
and carefully rewarding phone calls

i just want to know you're all right.

but time kills all joy
stews in the obsolete
craves what once was

i was a murder to your crow
a wave in the ocean of your denial
unfinished business
unresolved factions

rebound from books pulled at the seams
trivial pursuant
pretending that this was much less serious
than what you led on

we didn't define things
let our hands do the talking
and our eyes averted
always staring down some other prize

carefree and careless
easy going down the rabbit hole
never to return
to the state of understatement and coarse levees

you could have been a queen
raised up glasses
and made up beds

slept it all away

gave it all way

in the silence and disappearances

pushed it all away

in all honesty
bloodshed and broken promises
this is what you do, you said

there is only so much leeway you can give yourself
to surrender to the same vices and anxieties
repeat cyclist
inevitable scrutiny

we've seen our rooms
dirty and whole
with no apologies
just explanations

and yet, after all the tongue ties
the court dates
the exasperated hours

you still walked away from all of this
with no apologies
no explanations

just brick & mortar.

haunt

and then i fell asleep to your voice in the distance,
quivering away, reminding, of what you used to be..

in love and inspired,
silent and subtly supportive,
making keep with the winds and timepieces.

scratching the surface, sounding like radio static, just like the ghosts we once were, here to haunt our memories.

i can hear the motorcycles across the interstates,
and the soft white noise of the city,
burning our ears like privied conversations
we were never meant to hear.

so i lay here awake,
waiting for the words
that are never sung
only accented
as harmonies and pauses
of the muses we caused.

title owned by deft vehicle tragedies

here i trail the trachea
of bourbony traced etymology
sacrilege pleasures
of a lonely widower

and you try try try
to keep your insides in
from falling out
like supple slips of pedestrian leftover language

road kill
clever nuisance dirt poor cup drips

this is the cornered cold front
unprepared impediments
and stretched out deadlines

should have just left it alone
should have left me rained in

the signs were there
the telephones heavy
stale cribbage
pompous high end fixtures

impromptu placement of inanimate objects
lesser read criteria
borrowed time and toothbrushes

if you're better off, let's fold our hands
cross our legs
clench our fists
shuffle our feet

day one in the first defense
cracking whips and taking blame
carousels and merry go roustabouts
you're a perfect maybe lean day pacifist

keep the ball solely
for the game
and the game only

you're a chess peace
and i'm the king of splashes.

you don't

deserve this

deserve me

deserve us

disservice to it all

drunk and fishing for some invisible handout

while it stood in front of you all along.

goodbye to the fuzz

hello claritas

down and dirt grieved

shoes soiled

friends passed over

due diligence and secretarial work

stay for awhile

and drink someone else's life.

pills.

we could line the walls 

with perfect paragraphs

still the exits

are best described;

manic regiments

and time continuum martyrs

in abraxas we are all in-tact

come on babe and crumble

in our canopy cascade

reading minds in my leisure lay

i could swallow pills

til im pushin daises

on a monday, monday

skirt in with your mother

coming down from the rafters

im the panic in your pageant praise

storming the pariah

meant to lead in with dis-taste

all the mockery you set aside 

come on babe and crumble

in our canopy cascade

reading minds in my leisure lay

i could swallow pills

til im pushin daises

on a monday, monday

come on see me darling

i'm a mess in a party dress

im addressed to your stark ends

i could swallow pills til

the morning after

or next. 

squints & countenances

she sleeps in til noon
devoid of harnesses of human sheathes
smokes her cigarettes
in her leisure
shuffles her fingers

muses on memories
makes new arguments
shields old harborings

she's an indie queen
former limelight tween

sold her lungs and student loans
for lives singular and wholly in betterment

life on a string, slowly threading the needlepoint
catching twinkles, exploiting stars
staying up late
shelving scars

pretty and accurate
pretty insanely practical

storming the pan-am
starlets and figures of pandemonium
cash in hand
guard down
meddle with these kids
sore and run up the tallies

dirty messed up conversations, from previous
wavering over the complexities
of linear and unhinged family ties

it doesn't have to be so much of a car crash
mending spoons
digging out the hearts
wondering whose cold you've got

holding onto fingertips
of a stranger you wish
would just leave it be
and keep sake
only stolen time
in exchange for this one last lie.

TONIGHT