Bring Five Friends

by Dope Soda

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03:41
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5.

about

Hey, cravers! Bring five friends along to enjoy the five songs on our third Dope Soda release. For fans of ska, rock, craft beer, the Magna Carta, rare bacteria, corn on the cob, Wheel of Fortune, and cats. Product of British Columbia.

credits

released May 5, 2016

Recorded by Michael Kenyon at Nimbus Studios.
Track 3 vocals recorded by Rick Salt at Mountainview Studios.
Track 3 shouts recorded by Greg Szabo.
Editing & Mixing by Lee Billwillar at EP Studios.
Mastering by Joel Sked at Forest Floor Studios.
Produced by Dave St. Jean and Matt Carter.

Andrew Fraser - Bass
Dave St Jean - Trombone / Lead Vocals Track 2 & 5.
Jesse McNeill - Drums
Matt Carter - Keyboards / Alto Sax / Lead Vocals Tracks 1,3 & 4.
Mike Clement - Guitar
Phil Hamelin - Trumpet

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about

Dope Soda

Dope Soda
thirsty. Thirsty for music that is both dangerous and danceable, refreshing as a mojito and as eye-opening as a whiskey sour. A cocktail party mix of reggae, punk rock, jazz, hiphop, and ska. This is Dope Soda.

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Track Name: Tailspin
Pack up the van my friends, and we’re good to go
We’re gonna leave this town behind us
and rush on to our next show
Even though the drummer’s barely breathing
and the singer’s not on time
The guitarist lost his laundry and the bassist is committing crimes

You gotta hold on, hold on tight
Go into a tailspin on black Trans-Canada ice
You gotta hold on with all your might
Go into a tailspin on black Trans-Canada ice

Two hours late for soundcheck but that’s all the sleep we had
Hauling amps upstairs, alone or in pairs and then hit the bar tab
When the music hits you, it’s like you feel no pain
Until merch money bought tequila shots, there’ll be no breakfast again

You gotta hold on, hold on tight
Go into a tailspin on black Trans-Canada ice
You gotta hold on with all your might
Go into a tailspin on black Trans-Canada ice
Track Name: Simon the Cat
I hear him running around,
jumping up on the counter where he ain't allowed
Gently put him on the ground, but he just jumps back on up.
He goes up bup badada dup

Never has to work a day, life of a cat he sure got it made
He just sits there beggin' for food,
but never pays me any rent
no he don't

(chorus)
Yeah It's good to be a cat,
he plays with his balls and he licks his ass
tears around the house in the middle of the night.
It's good to be alive, I think late at night that I'm gonna die
he claws my face when he tries to wake up me.

Oh Simon, oh Simon the cat

That cat keeps me up at night,
somewhere in the hours of 3 in the morning.
He thinks it's funny as hell when he shits in my bed,
but I don't
Well I heard a noise one day
and I got up out my bed and I ran his way yeah.
Cause I know what he's gonna do,
he's gonna throw up on my favourite pair of shoes

(chorus)
Yeah It's good to be a cat,
he plays with his balls and he licks his ass
tears around the house in the middle of the night.
It's good to be alive, I think late at night that I'm gonna die
he claws my face when he tries to wake up me.

Oh Simon, oh Simon. You are just a cat,
An itty bitty, little kitty. You are just a cat.

(chorus)
Yeah It's good to be a cat,
he plays with his balls and he licks his ass
tears around the house in the middle of the night.
It's good to be alive, I think late at night that I'm gonna die
he claws my face when he tries to wake up me.
Track Name: Chirpa the Cat
If you’re sleeping and dreaming I’m creeping seemingly so you won’t notice I’m biting skin
I don’t mind if you don’t know the time or the blood that’s dripping down your chin
I’m gonna wake you up whenever the hell I want
Till my dish gets filled with a bucket of swill, alright

One more time cuz I got the funky rhyme, Chirpa

If you like gifts I’m in a charitable mood: a hairball and a headless mouse
I didn’t cry at that whole neutering knife but I’ve come to repossess your house
I’m gonna stake my claim to whatever the hell I want
Move over, Rover, let Chirpa take over, alright

One more time cuz I got the funky rhyme

I’m in the window sill, licking my arm
I’m your prime minister and let’s get sinister

If you live your life without much of a plan
If you like meat ground up in a can
If you live your life with breath like death
If you like your hair shedding everywhere

One more time cuz I got the funky rhyme, Chirpa

Don’t take me to the vet
Track Name: An Open Letter to the Judge
I am not guilty of these crimes
But now you hold me life on the line
I do not have no stolen property
And that’s why, judge, you must let me free

Hear me, court, of my alibi
Home alone, cooking rice, when the popo drop by
They push me down and kick in my doors
The Brixton guns in the hands of the force

You see I got no money and I got little personal property
Why you gotta put me back in lock-up again
So I tell you judge and the jury around you
You gotta set me free

Your honour, you gotta let me go

Got no money to make my bail
Change my address to the county jail
I ask the court, what times are these
When an innocent man chooses bribery

You see I know a story about the judge’s impropriety
Money from the honey to keep up the pen
Well I tell you judge, when the papers surround you
You gotta set me free

Your honour, you gotta let me go
Track Name: Open Doors feat. Kytami
Let's believe. That we found something strong.
No pretend, "Just for for fun and we play along"
Open doors, open eyes. Why can't they see.
That the stars light the sky in harmony

Woh oh. Open Doors.
Arm yourself, we're off to war.

They can't see. Just blind-seers-make-belief
Basket weave. Inter-wind and we will achieve.
Move an inch, lift us up above the sky.
Then decide what it's worth. Polished and refined.

Woh oh. Open Doors.
Arm yourself, we're off to war.

Creeping forward. Hours past we're still here.
Squeezing out of sheltered arms of this pop fear.
Pour us into six pints of stoic recharge.
Breaking ska from chains. Unbinding this musical discharge.

Woh oh. Open Doors.
Arm yourself, we're off to war.