by Midas Bison

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released August 7, 2012



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Midas Bison Madison, Wisconsin

Midas Bison is a queer pop experimentalist from Madison, WI.

The music itself embraces and defies genre. By combining familiar elements of pop music with experimental sounds and abstract lyrics, Midas creates a style that is pleasantly irregular. ... more

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Track Name: Cicada
I can see my way out from the parking lot.
Where’s my memory? I let the milk go bad.
Where’s your friends who got so serious about it?
My coughing stops when I’m on your lawn.
Where’s my enemy with the broken back?
What’s my line? I’m not off book yet.
Weather down, wire up,
Gives the season all it’s touch,
But I can never be anything but bitter,
No I can’t be anything but bitter.
Come back, you’re cutting out.
The white noise like a rebel shout.
Maybe you’ll feel better if you’re detained.
Headache, you’re passing out
Onto the floor of your brother’s house,
With a waltz and a whispering chime.
I got my gait from someone I’m not,
His is suspended, mine can barely hold on.
Where is he now? I want to talk to him about it.
All my heroes are shaped like wasps,
Promising honey until the humming stops.
Where are my friends? They’d never worry about it.
Track Name: Quality, Fast
Comfort in a hallmark card that cushions like a tempurpedic.
Aesthete or an asshole depending on how you read it.
Assistance is the zestiest this side of the Willamette.
Just slip the tip under the table and man you can have it.
Quality, Fast.
Fast as a lightning bolt.
Fast as you’ll ever hold.
Comfort is a frequent caller it comes beckoning from your mattress,
And the smell of home baked pizza manifests into a temptress
Who knows your tells and places, where you like to get your neck pecked,
or that perfect weather where the wind comes up to caress your sundress.
Track Name: A Blur in the Sky
Flitting like a hummingbird,
you ask if I’m okay,
But move on to a prettier plant
before I have a chance to say,
“I’m feeling pretty grounded lately,
My ambition’s rooted to a tree.
I’ve got the sap but not the subtlety
That a good flower needs -
I’ve just got the energy.”
But that’s alright now, at least I’m comfortable.
I’ll never be just another weed for you to pull.
And we won’t stick together
if we can’t figure whether
certain clouds hold pockets of sun rockets
cleverly withheld
from this cellulose hell.
I guess we’ll figure out or get fingered out.
Little bird, you are just a blur in the sky.
Track Name: Sheepskin Limbs
When I got older, yeah, I got bolder,
Now I just break shit, now I just smolder,
But my mind is calm near people -
Just never under church steeples
That my mother dragged me to
even while knowing the whole truth -
that I’m a fake and so are you,
I can’t fit more into these shoes.
Romance is just stale parchment
if we don’t leave this apartment.
I go crazy when I feel
like someone keeps me at their heel.
A wander full of nicotine
once responded to all my dreams
and this is what it said:
“You’ve got to make use of it somehow,
you’ve got to put pistol powder in your mouth
and turn your fractured thoughts into house.”
When I was asleep in the hallway
someone thought I was a vagrant from Galway.
Cutting up these abstract thoughts
Into a collage that seems to cough:
“You’ve just got to get it all out.
Come on man, purge that shit out of your mouth,
And catch a freighter on it’s way down south.”
“We’d all feel better about - wouldn’t we?”
And all my friends (are going off the deep end)
All my sense (is commonly distorted again)
All my pride (covered in sheepskin hide)
devours me from inside.
And all my days (are being pulled in two ways)
All my ways (want to force constant malaise)
All my lines (just sound like a poetic crime)
Are masked by sheepskin lies.
“But I can’t start a colony
if no one ever trusts in me
a sense of real intimacy
or emotional security.
If all my dreams are devised,
when will you decide?
But I’m so sick of apathy,
I want to see with clarity,
‘Cause geeking out on LSD
has got nothing on you hugging me.
And if all my dreams are stupid,
well then I guess I should just get used to it.”