You showed up late to this thing,
friend of a friend of a friend.
You started talking: you said you played music.
The talk turned to bands:
you voiced an opinion not largely accepted.
To prove your point, you found a guitar on the couch.
You said, "turn off the music!"
We're all so polite, we actually do it.
We sit in silence and stare at the ground,
at our hands--eye contact is hot lava.
Then the thought, it hits me:
what if everybody's having a moment but me?
Am I a monster?
Am I immune to the spontaneous outflow
of arts, and emotions, and overly emotive vocal octave leaps?
Either way, I'm having a crisis.
If I could go back in time I'd tell you:
If you sing at the party (yeah yeah yeah),
you're gonna ruin the party (yeah yeah yeah).
You were a stranger in a room full of friends,
it's hard! I'm not too good with that shit, either.
When you're trying to make the conversation turn your way,
but nobody wants to give you the time of day.
But you know just how you're going to win them over,
'cause when you're armed with a guitar you're a super-soldier.
All your friends and family say you're talented as hell:
you sound like Janis Joplin mixed with Adele.
But, I've got to warn you.
So you're aware:
if you sing at the party (yeah yeah yeah),
you're going to ruin the party (yeah yeah yeah).
from Crisis Factory,
released November 13, 2016
Joel Wheeler: Guitar, Vocals
Amye Sagar: Bass, Vocals
Calvin Tse: Drums