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Taking Inventory

by Jim Dusty

/
1.
a testament to the mundane a two bedroom flat and a five seater van in my name
a body tall awkward and strange a bend in my back a head hung in perpetual shame
a collection of records and second hand books my father’s impatience and humour and my mother’s looks
 a dull sense of purpose a scar on my knee a constant sensation of crippling inadequacy
this is what I have to show my harvest from 25 years on this earth lost in the throes and all that is left in my mind are fragments of thoughts so I’m taking inventory to find what I’ve lost inside me
the illusion of control is warped as it circles the mouth of a giant black hole
a closet of broken guitars lay haunted by ghosts of ambition that have long since passed
a lump in my throat and a mouth full of dirt delusions of good health and a penchant to poke where it hurts
a rumbling hunger to be something more that raps on my windows and drags its nails down my door
2.
Kenmore 05:37
I grew up in a town of prison walls and dusty grounds of cops and crooks and the blurred line in between
where kids would earn their crowns by beating each other down that lust for power never really interested me
we found ourselves some walls within which we grew our delusions of grandeur and knelt at the mercy of our dreams 
behind my bedroom door my pacing steps wore holes through the floor I’ve never been good at standing still in the stream
one by one I’ll dismantle the vices that bind me and four by four I will move to the beat that will drive me day by day I will suffer the routine that keeps me and year by year I’ll change but I’ll stay the same its always the same
we spent those Kenmore days chasing our demons through the smoke and the haze while testing the limits of what our bodies could take
a room without a stage where misshapen tones fell upon me like waves and the rats in the walls would dance through their carpeted caves
I was woken late one night by an overwhelming urge to take flight I gathered my thoughts and my things and I ran for my life 
but I won’t forget those nights we sat on the roof staring into the sky I’ll carry those memories around for the rest of my life
3.
the traffic on northbourne avenue always drags its feet at this time of the afternoon like a schoolboy made familiar with the feeling of defeat it hangs in his mind and the passage of time seems irrelevant
and as I sit behind the wheel the minutes march by in fives while I wonder where the months went and where the years did hide I see a young magpie tearing pieces of flesh from its mother who met her untimely demise on someone’s front bumper
and I’m reminded as I oversee this disturbing display that every creature who has ever lived on this tiny rock in space will have its final day one for the master one for the slave and one for the little boy with the heavy heart and only himself to blame
the voices of strangers provide some afternoon dramatics in heated tones they argue and break their way through the static and I hear one declare that the age of entitlement is dead and the heirs to the earth will be left to clean up their mess
while media monsters growl and bare their teeth to win the first bite of the TV rights to a tragedy if it bleeds it leads while corruption sneaks by disguised as a cloud on the breeze unnoticed until the storm hits
but every doomsday ends the same did you see that diversion yo check out this new outrage well I’ll take something for the pain as I untie my shoes and examine a life cut into bite-sized pieces by organised time

4.
The best part about waking up on the ground is that you can feel vibrations from all around they get inside your head and made into sound
while the ever reliable sun rears its golden mane and sets fir to the eastern horizon like it’s always done
and I’ve been trying to pick myself up though my back is strong the weight of my heart is just too much so I built a crutch 
from my friends the ones I won’t forget who stand by my side and keep me from myself and we’ll laugh off the close calls as our old skin we’ll shed and smother the voices inside of our heads 
full self-esteem ahead
the best part about feeling down and out is that there’s nothing to lose if you stick your neck out cut off those loose ends and press on without
but now I feel like a medical anomaly sedated strapped down and cut open to find what’s inside of me is only commodity 
but I do all of this to myself and leave my better mind just gathering dust on a shelf

about

After a solo EP, scores of touring shows and local supports, Jim Dusty is back with his second EP "Taking Inventory."

Introspective, and inspiring, "Taking Inventory" takes the listener on an emotional journey with its unique mix of country style banjo, classical, yet sombre string arrangements, and a vocal style that mixes melody with spoken word poetry.

credits

released September 27, 2017

Jim Dusty: Banjo & Vocals
Cass Byers: Violin
Ben Drury: Double Bass

Recorded & Mixed by Joel Cabban
Mastered by Clamore
Artwork by Erin O'Brien

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The Noise Floor Canberra, Australia

Canberra based DIY Punk / Alternative Label.

Doin' it for the cause!

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