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Do Your Worst

by Erin Anne

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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Includes unlimited streaming of Do Your Worst via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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1.
Time stopped a couple Mondays ago And now that feeling seems to be all that I know It only widens, never closing in It is an aging, de-elasticized skin And nothing that I do with my hands can make it better Nothing that I do with my mouth can make it better It’s been a long year, this spring that we’re in It’s such a heavy feeling being weightless I’m going backwards to the start of it It always hurts to go back to the start of it Pressing the bruise ‘til it pops like a zit Tearing through seams just to see if they’ll rip I need a time machine but I don’t believe I need a time machine but I cannot see (where I’d go)
2.
I’m not feeling too good even though I know I’m all right There’s a silent scream that’s stuck in my mouth And it’s trying to get out, it’s stuck in my mouth Why walk in the park when I know it’s not safe at night? I just want to test it all out for myself, see if everyone’s right If I think anymore, my brain will be juice It’s eating itself from repeating itself It’s all coming out my ears, nothing’s going in Seismic summer’s getting under my skin Lying awake with a rattled skeleton, praying that I won’t need a radio again There’s a silent scream that’s stuck in my mouth And it’s trying to get out, it’s trying to get out
3.
What do you want, what do you want, what do you want? You wake up in the morning feeling it all, feeling it all The knife’s still at your throat--you think that you may like it Think you should walk away but you’ll double down (Think I’m gonna do it) Who do you want, who do you want, who do you want? It seems it should be easy Promise of the big house, money, and the neighbors on the weekends It’s making less sense now that you’re talking it through... It could be you Chasing her down in a brand new city Running around in a brand new city Laying her down in a brand new city
4.
The bus is especially ugly today I wish I could fly This morning there was blood in the bowl again It’s been a long time since it was white I’ve grown used to all these little inconveniences I watch them happen from the side One day I’ll have a car and my body will work Say it in the mirror three times Stuck behind slow walkers in the New York streets I stick my elbows out and I feel like I’m stuck somewhere between Ten centuries and days shy of thirteen I’m perpetually singing the same song But it’s not gonna change until the day Something better seems to come along I’ll believe it when I see it Promises are white noise And yet it’s still alarming how things fall apart Never thought that I would melt in your mouth Like cotton candy made of sand I just can't unfeel it The damage is done, now I’m left with the mess While you fuck off to the deep midwest To blow the dust off a man who’s already dead I’m just waiting on the naked minimum I’ll be waiting til I’m naked
5.
Don’t wanna be your last pick Any mention and I fall into a black hole Need attention but I don’t wanna be seen on the street It’s a complicated feeling Playing happy for the voices in my own head Buzzing loudly as I open and close screen after screen Mirror, mirror in my hand When did I get so god damned Swallowed up by the thing looking back Hollow hands fired off by a track I’m hurting my own feelings Walk around and try to take a little edge off Kick around the little pieces of trash left on the street I’m losing at my own game Moving backwards in a full retrograde Anxious circles, everybody I meet sees right through me Mirror, mirror in my hand When did I get so god damned Swallowed up by the thing looking back Hollow hands fired off by a track Mirror, mirror in my hand When did I get so god damned Swallowed up by the thing looking back at me Hollow hands fired off by a track I don’t recognize all the things coming out of me Hollow hands fired off by a track Swallowed up by the thing looking back
6.
It fills me up I want it bad Make a little wish on an eyelash, send it away Breathe a little bit through the feeling, call it a day It eats me up It breathes me in Pace a little bit through the hallway, send it away Make a little list of the things that make me okay Easy enough to say It’s a little harder when it’s hotter in my house than in my brain Summertime Do your worst Underneath the moon, throw my body into the pool Sink a little bit into quiet, softness, and cool Push it out Take it back Take a little time to return myself to the earth Put a little faith in the season of its rebirth Easy enough to say It’s a little harder when it’s hotter in my house than in my brain There will come a day When the bird songs of the morning do not bring the dread and longing out to play
7.
Late night sweetheart, wanna kiss you so hard You make me feel like I’m a vampire in the dark Pick me up in your car, take me anywhere with you My blood runs cold when you leave--it’s a bad sign Outside of the show in the street, can’t hide, think I might cry Gonna tell her that it’s true that I love her now I always think I did, some way somehow I wanna be the girl that wakes up next to you I’m ready for the day I wake up next to you I’ll buy another drink, keep the sun off of our skin ‘Cause when you look at me like that, there’s no way I could be leaving Unless I’m leaving here with you, ‘cause I love you now I always think I did some way, somehow I wanna be the girl that wakes up next to you I’m ready for the day I wake up next to you
8.
Florida 03:44
I can feel it coming Oh, god, I feel it coming I feel the pressure dropping It’s coming with no warning From silence into screaming Awoken from my sleeping Fracturing into a million little pieces Closing tunnel vision Body in submission Howling out into the shrinking Harvest Moon Falling in slow motion Desert to the ocean Summer into autumn Last time that I saw them Everybody dies in Florida eventually Planes and Disney life insurance policies A golf cart and a condo in a village by the sea Kiss the moon goodbye, it’s nearly morning
9.
Pour the coffee, watch the wind blow the leaves on the trees Hear the birds sing louder than the ghosts of freeways now haunting the spring Whispering breeze Touch the blades of grass and drink in the life to my skin It all goes on Every pore a window into the wet of my heart It’s gutting me I’m losing sleep I’m spilling out of me Will somebody touch me please? Absorb me completely This hungry body Longing for the time of longing when longing could mean something could be I’m the pacing widow waiting for something that’s dead to come back from sea
10.
Underground 02:46
I’m sleeping half my life away And every dream’s a black hole I’m losing track of days They’re all the same And when I lie awake, I pray it’s just a dream to shake Is this how it is now? We all live underground The poets couldn’t dream this up It’s creeping up, the deepest dark I’ve ever seen No wolf of sleep The heavy air is out for blood Don’t open up, even to breathe No fever dream Is this how it is now? We all live underground
11.
Typhoid Mary 03:16
Leave it alone Put it down Close up the windows Block out the sound Take off my clothing Feel the air Peel off my own skin It’s still there (It’s still there) I’m burning I mortify me Stomach turning I am a disease You’re gonna catch me if I have my way I’m terminal once you hear my name The sound of my own voice rings in my ears I’ll never be clean from how you all hear it I’m quarantined, but I think it’s too late The wind is blowing to give you all a taste It’s what you wanted, me on my own They didn’t tell you where I’d go The sound of my own voice rings in my ears I’ll never be clean from how you all hear it Crawling with power I never wanted Lethal mouth and lethal body Typhoid Mary came and got me Typhoid Mary, do you still want me?

about

When the whole world collapses around you, sometimes the only thing you can do is stomp it all loose. Erin Anne's second album, the gleaming, electrified Do Your Worst, charts that uninhibited romp through disaster. Written amid the rubble of personal grief and professional disappointment, later exacerbated by the devastation of a global pandemic, the record deepens Erin's venture into the blur between human and machine, adding a new roster of digital instruments to the mix. Drawing on dark, glossy '80s synthpop as well as the unabashed bombast of bands like The Killers, the L.A.-based songwriter deploys a cyborg persona to articulate a feeling of displacement from the world as a queer artist struggling to survive the machinations of late capitalism. With bright, interweaving synthesizers and ripples of Auto-Tuned vocals, Do Your Worst poses a dare to the world: Whatever you have in store, I'll take it standing.

Erin began writing her second album not long after adding a MIDI keyboard and vocal processing hardware to her home studio setup. While exploring her new gear, she found that she could work in the same vein as the artists and producers she loved the most. Do Your Worst takes inspiration from the music of Patrick Cowley, the disco and hi-NRG producer best known for working alongside Sylvester. Erin was taken by Cowley's use of vocoder on the 1982 album Mind Warp, where his distorted vocals create a queer, mutant subjectivity. That album rang out against the cataclysm of the AIDS epidemic; Erin found resonance in Cowley's music during the present-day pandemic. "I have found the most catharsis and the most safety in listening to the music of people in really, really horrific circumstances making something lasting and profoundly beautiful," she says.

Throughout Do Your Worst, which was mixed by Sarah Tudzin of Illuminati Hotties, songs like "Typhoid Mary" and "Florida" reckon with loss, despair, and abjection. "This Hungry Body" sears through pandemic-era touch starvation, while "Mirror Mirror" attends to the noxious but necessary funhouse of social media. On the playful, guitar-driven “Eve Polastri’s Last Two Brain Cells Have a Debate,” Erin uses the spy thriller TV show Killing Eve to explore queer codependency and masochism. Among these fraught subjects, Erin Anne finds opportunities for release. She stages internal conflict on a scale so massive that its details start to become clear; if they don't resolve, they at least become palpable.

"I’m very much a maximalist when it comes to production. I like vast landscapes. I like a stratosphere and a core -- I want the bass to be beneath the floor," Erin says. "This record is, in a lot of ways, a collection of some of the first moments that I was technologically able to achieve accurate renderings of how I hear my own emotional world."

credits

released June 10, 2022

MAIN CREDITS

Songwriting, arrangements, and production: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Tracking engineers: Alex Rogers (tracks 2-5, 7, 10) and Erin A. Fitzpatrick (tracks 1, 6, 8, 9, 11)
Mixing engineer: Sarah Tudzin
Mastering engineer: Sarah Register
Jacket art and graphic design: Rob Carmichael


PERFORMANCE CREDITS

“Monday Feeling”
Guitars, vocals, synths, bass, and drum programming: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
“Loose Cannon Club”
Guitars, vocals, and synths: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums: Mark Edwards
Additional percussion: Alex Rogers
“Eve Polastri’s Last Two Brain Cells Have A Debate”
Guitars, vocals, and synths: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums: Mark Edwards
Additional percussion: Alex Rogers
“Naked Minimum”
Guitars, vocals, and synths: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums: Mark Edwards
Additional percussion: Alex Rogers
“Mirror Mirror”
Guitars, vocals, synths, and triangle: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums: Mark Edwards
Additional percussion: Alex Rogers
“Do Your Worst”
Guitars, vocals, and synths: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums and additional percussion: Mark Edwards
“Echo Park Vampire”
Guitars, vocals, and synths: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums: Mark Edwards
Additional percussion: Alex Rogers
“Florida”
Guitars, vocals, and synths: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums and additional percussion: Mark Edwards
“This Hungry Body”
Guitars, vocals, and synths: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums and additional percussion: Mark Edwards
“Underground”
Guitars, vocals, and synths: Erin A. Fitzpatrick
Bass: Lindsey Schiffman
Drums: Mark Edwards
Additional percussion: Alex Rogers
“Typhoid Mary”
Guitars, vocals, synths, bass, and drum programming: Erin A. Fitzpatrick

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