Band HistoryKody LittleChris ChildressMatt SpivackCalvin Merseal

Fly from the Nest

Mother, father, son, and daughter
Sweet dysfunction, cannon fodder
Day and night, keep up the fight
Think to myself – this can’t be right
 
It’s up to me
I must be free
Going to be my way
 
Cunning teachers, pious preachers
Many answers – each one differs
Insensitive, I can’t forgive
Each think they know how I should live
 
No time to rest
Put to the test
Fly from the nest today
 
Sweet canary wants to marry
Give up your dreams while hers you carry
So, you whisper that you’ll miss her
Can’t settle now – the world calls hither
 
It’s up to me
I must be free
Going to be my way
 
No time to rest
Put to the test
Fly from the nest today

Fly from the Nest
Lyrics by, Matt Spivack

Wanderlust

I step out the door and feel the heat
Burning from the morning sun
Now I have to learn to keep my feet
Before I break into a run

I can’t deny
I have to try to shake the dust
I have the will
I must fulfill my wanderlust

I may come upon a crossroad bare
And find seduction in my path
She’ll offer fortunes for a price unfair
Balanced in the aftermath

I can’t deny
I have to try to shake the dust
I have the will
I must fulfill my wanderlust

I’ll stand in direct defiance of
The hand that may be dealt to me
I’ll stay true to all the things I love
To maintain my integrity

What do I see?
Society is so unjust
I feel deceived
I can’t relieve my wanderlust

Wanderlust
Lyrics by, Matt Spivack & Kody Little

Signed and Sealed

A perfect day with doubled reason
On the precipice of fate
In worlds of cash exchange some stories
Get out, make the grade – too late

The only way to be is hollow
Earn your smile dime by dime
Without compassion, rhyme, or reason
Lost within the hands of time

Signed, sealed, and delivered
Your fate is in your hands
Soon you start to shiver
And they won’t understand

Reality of business leisure
No room for the love of words
If we could yet return to beauty
Love of art on wings of birds

Without, within, or just adjacent
Always feel outside of life
Synecdoche between my fingers
Hand exchanging pen for knife

Signed, sealed, and delivered
Your fate is in your hands
Soon you start to shiver
And they won’t understand

To write or paint a song of passion
It will never pay the rent
Too happy starving – fast for spirit!
Page to page will soon repent

Still at a loss to find the answer
Can’t exist to sign my name
If never losing love for language
Fight the current without shame

Signed, sealed, and delivered
Your fate is in your hands
Soon you start to shiver
And they won’t understand

Signed, sealed, and delivered
It’s time to make a choice
Feel your anger quiver
You’ll have to raise your voice

Signed and Sealed
Lyrics by, Calvin Merseal

Loss for Words

Minstrel wandering
Path he’s pondering
Time he’s squandering
Damn the fates

No tune playing
Price he’s paying
Heart decaying
Still he waits

His muse it seems
Won’t cease her screams
She simply must be heard
Try as he might
He still can’t write
He’s at a loss for words

Bright-eyed novelist
Strong protagonist
Unexpected twist
Still it lacks

Heart of stone un-bled
All her thoughts have fled
Stops her writing dead
In its tracks

Her muse it seems
Won’t cease her screams
She simply must be heard
Try as she might
She still can’t write
She’s at a loss for words

Hear the ticking clock
Break your mental lock
End your writer’s block
Have to try

Can’t get page to fill
Simply lost the thrill
Inspiration kill
Want to cry

Your muse it seems
Won’t cease her screams
She simply must be heard
Try as you might
You still can’t write
You’re at a loss for words

Loss for Words
Lyrics by, Matt Spivack

If I Cared Less

I can’t seem to find the words
To carve under my name
As I brave the star-eyed herds
All migrating for fame

Half a mind with less in heart
I scribble on the page
All eroded falls apart
Not born yet tinged by age

Feeling like old Bartleby
I’d simply prefer not
Still not coming easily
Lost patience on the spot

Standing stiff with hand to gland
Send futures down the drain
Who knew life could be so bland
Would sooner suffer pain

At a loss with blood run dry
I’m crawling in the dark
A single tear falls with a cry
But that won’t leave a mark

Bygone friends all moving on
A child, a wife, a life
Soon they will be surly gone
In cool domestic strife

Tenderly I grasp my pen
A lover all its own
What my children might have been
Their seed spilled but not sown

Wondering where I should stand
I look upon the Styx
If I cared a little less
That might just be the fix

Whisper nothings in my veins
Held candles to my heart
Pinpricked point won’t be the end
Perhaps a quiet start

If I Cared Less
Lyrics by, Calvin Merseal

In the Dark

I feel the sleet
Human retreat
Outside the line
Caught in the brine
Lost in disguise
My empty lies
Leave me in the dark

All out of time
A lonely crime
Cold in repose
Glad no one knows
Lost in disguise
My empty lies
Leave me in the dark

Don’t care to change
I’m out of range
Shorten my breath
Mirror of death
Lost in disguise
My empty lies
Leave me in the dark

After a while
No need to smile
Taken alive
To this I strive
Lost in disguise
My empty lies
Leave me in the dark

In the Dark
Lyrics by, Calvin Merseal

Necrosis

A world of need is the death of dreams
He’ll never grow up to be what he seems
Nine to five at a dead-end job
‘Til his last breath does a paycheck rob

His friends all well off or happily married
Their dreams being simple were easily carried
The artist will starve, his love will wither
He’ll never moves forward, only hither and thither

He’ll never grow up, he’ll never grow old
He thinks a rolling stone grows no mold
His head is hot, but his heart is cold
And it won’t be true if his soul is sold

He trudges on, but he just can’t see
Machines got him, now he can’t get free
Walking death and you know his plea
End the necrosis of society!

A fettered mind in black recesses
A shallow end won’t reach the presses
His broken dreams get no osmosis
His captive soul will face necrosis

Necrosis
Lyrics by, Matt Spivack & Calvin Merseal

Accidental Assonance

[Instrumental]

By Chance

Where the blossoms bloom
From rotting flesh
In the light of something fresh

With the foreground blurred
By winter storm
Something better fit to warm

Chance taken
Can’t surrender
Awaken
Hidden splendor
New roads are cut in the hardened ground
We weren’t meant to get around

In the summer rain
We still see light
Fireflies in meadows bright

Never feel at ease
You tell these lies
But their truth may soon surprise

Chance taken
Can’t surrender
Awaken
Hidden splendor
New roads are cut in the hardened ground
We weren’t meant to get around

As we venture out
Our paths upturned
Find the pit where passion burned

Where you come to stand
To set the bar
Will reflect just who you are

Chance taken
Can’t surrender
Awaken
Hidden splendor
New roads are cut in the hardened ground
We weren’t meant to get a…

Chance taken
Can’t surrender
Awaken
Hidden splendor
New roads are cut in the hardened ground
We weren’t meant to get around
We weren’t meant to get around

By Chance
Lyrics by, Calvin Merseal

Tone is Set

A touch of charm set to disarm
But do tread carefully
The right handshake can make or break
A friend or enemy
Your tongue all tied behind
The faults nobody tells
You’ll simply have to hope
Your first impression sells

So, take the plunge
And don’t you doubt
The tone is set
From here on out

A pretty lass you met in class
You got the guts one day
You try to flirt but red alert
You find nothing to say
An opportunity that you
Have missed you can’t regain
So, don’t you crucify yourself
You see you must refrain

You have to lunge
To win the bout
No need to fret
Just choose a route

So, take the plunge
And don’t you doubt
The tone is set
From here on out

Button down, head into town
For your big interview
Need this job, can’t be a slob
You’ve really thought this through
Sitting in the office
See a stain upon your tie
And you are so embarrassed
That you think you may well die

You have to lunge
To win the bout
No need to fret
Just choose a route

So, take the plunge
And don’t you doubt
The tone is set
From here on out

Don’t over-criticize
You beat yourself up so
Over things about you
That no one could ever know
The tiny imperfections
That are so hard to detect
That you are only human
Is all that they could reflect

A touch of charm set to disarm
But do tread carefully
The right handshake can make or break
A friend or enemy
Your tongue all tied behind
The faults nobody tells
You’ll simply have to hope
Your first impression sells

You have to lunge
To win the bout
No need to fret
Just choose a route

So, take the plunge
And don’t you doubt
The tone is set
From here on out

Tone is Set
Lyrics by, Matt Spivack

Liner Notes

Matt Spivack: Vocals, Flute, Guitar
Kody Little: Guitar, Vocals, Keyboards [Tracks 6 & 8]
Chris Childress: Bass, Synthesizers [Tracks 6, 7, & 9]
Calvin Merseal: Drums, Keyboards [Tracks 4, 6, 7, & 9]

Special Thanks to,

Greg Steinman, Mike ‘Memphis’ Schalk, Nicki Childress, Matt Gurney, Leighton Tarr, Nancy Messer, Lisa Thompson, Scott Medina, Anna Holmgren, Rob Gordon, Kyle Wofford, Joseph Brenna, Chuck Nehring, United Interests Mgmt, What Are Records?, Dicky Shmuels and our other friends and family, Ludwig Van Beethoven, Igor Stravinsky, Modest Mussorgsky, Jethro Tull, Rush, Iron Maiden, The Who, and all of the other great artists who came before.

Additional Performances by:

Kevin Yordy: Keyboards [Tracks 1, 9, & 10]
McKinley Hudson: Keyboards [Tracks 2 & 4]
Greg Steinman: Keyboards [Tracks 3 & 5]

Recorded at UI Sound Studios in Boulder, CO
Produced by Evan Reeves & Amalgam Effect
Co-Produced by Max Nordby
Engineered by Evan Reeves, Max Nordby, & Chris Scott
Mixed/Mastered by Chris Scott

Executive Producer: Chris Childress
Cover Art: Jasmine Zion
Layout: Calvin Merseal
All Music by Amalgam Effect
Lyrics by Matt Spivack, Calvin Merseal, & Kody Little
℗ © 2016 Amalgam Effect

Album Narrative

Alan Quill is a summation—an amalgamation. He represents what has come before, and what may lie ahead. Alan was born in Denver, Colorado in 1990 to a middle-class suburban family, and lived an average suburban life. His father drinks more than is polite, and his mother is too polite to drink. His younger sister is an alcoholic—but it isn’t polite to talk about it. Joe (The Father) pours himself another drink, Hannah (The Mother) changes the subject, Sophie (The Sister) is sent away, and Alan (Our Hero) observes in quiet solitude.

Alan is a writer. Alan is a musician. Alan is twenty-five when he at last seeks help. His therapist— Dr. Adams—awaits his arrival. Enter Alan; they chat, but nothing of consequence is discussed. They must arrive at the departure—the moment Alan’s life began to deviate from quiet suburban normalcy. Of all beginnings, Alan chooses the one that matters most, the moment of his deviation—his time of departure.

Alan is a writer. Alan is a musician. Alan is seventeen when his family turmoil finally overwhelms him. It was time to leave the nest. After a moment of significance—not unique in its circumstance, but monumental in its consequence—Alan resolves to leave Colorado with his closest friend, Dick. The pair set out for New York, and while there…well, it’s best left unsaid. As we were.

After a few years, Alan travels back west—playing his guitar at clubs along the way and continuing to fight with writer’s block. He eventually finds himself back in Colorado and settled into an editing job at a local news office. The cycle sets in: go to work—earn your pay—feed yourself—go to work—earn your pay—feed yourself—repeat—repeat…Alan is a writer; Alan writes “Alan Quill”. Alan signs his name. Alan is a writer, and he can’t exist to sign his name. He quits. Alan is a writer. Alan is at a loss for words.

Alan is a writer who cannot write. Life is moving without him. Alan imagines death as a release, but he still cares too much. This leads to Alan’s next departure at the prick of a needle. As the heroin enters his veins, there is quiet, and then euphoria, and then…darkness!

Alan is rotting. No—the world is rotting. Necrotic and putrid. But a moment can change everything. A knock at the door can bring you back from the brink.

Alan is recovering. Alan is clean. Alan is in therapy. Dr. Adams can’t convince Alan that the decay is ever going to end, but he insists that blossoms can bloom from the rotting flesh. Alan is unconvinced. Dr. Adams is undeterred.

Alan is home and looking for work. Nothing has changed, but all Alan can do is hope for the best and try to fit in to the life he was given. The tone is set, from here on out. It would get better…It will get better…It should get better…