Party on The Dance Floor

ok. so we all know and accept organic food is pure bullshit, not only irrational to feed a world population, but also for quality. ironically the same people buying organic apples for a 200% hike are the same douchebags littering twitter with their introspective thoughts. these are the same people embracing modern technology, yet refusing modern diet and evolution. it makes little sense. so i tie this in. i(we) have always wanted to be an organic band. natural flow, thought, and musical progression. but is that a step backward? is organic a primitive emotion? in fifteen years we will all just pop meal vitamins, does that mean we will just pretend to play gutar (rock band, guitar hero). the thought is a puzzling one. we all know organic isnt the best, or better for you, but is it simply an artistic expression. and most of all, is that the most important. i say yes. i say no bullshit noise. i say no chickens. i say no click tracks. i say FUCK the man, and marketing, and all other businessmen. we are but artists. and we are only a voice. we randomly pay rent on time, we randomly make any money. we always get fucked by our demons. somewhere along the line the american dream became equal to monetary worth. well, we side with springsteen and martin luther king jr, art is god. god is hard. it is an angel and a demon. its suicide while begging to live. i miss the talking heads, david byrne moreso; i miss lil wayne…. before the “community” took ahold of him. how hes singing with jason mraz… not hard. just another pussy.

we believe in and respect two things: music & people who listen to music. everything else is just a distraction.

no clicks. no ipods, no smoking mirrors, we want LA for what is really is..

always revolt. i will revolt.

give me my motherfucking movie check or im gunna take you down.

am i the prince or the frog?
am i the one dropping the bombs?
am i the mule or the maker; or just a double-taker?
the wrath or disease, i beg you darlin’ please;
to give me one last kiss, to see if im a frog or a prince.

thought i would post it up here for y’all and let you know we are some lowfi loving rock fans. demos are always our favorite, we are currently writing and making more demos as i post this. hope everyone enjoys. DONT FORGET, THIS SONG AS WELL AS “the walls acoustic” IS AVAILABLE for FREE DOWNLOAD AT WWW.THEHYPOTWINS.COM KEEP THE PICKLES CLOSE AND THE PEANUT BUTTER IN YOUR MOUTH.

i am currently back in my hometown where i grew up. i will be back to full time posting. i am having a blast and wish everyone my best, and as usual, stay tuned for insane announcements

every boy becomes a man with a little focus. every caterpillar becomes a butterfly. its like the sweet glaze of the crescent moon on my skin. i feel alive. i feel alive in all places. and i must thank a good friend of mine, and former hypo twins bass player matt brunsvold, and partly mark hoppus as well.

i see there is hope for rock music. the life we all hope. the life without boundries that we can get on that stage and let our souls sing to whoever will listen. today a feel born again, and its people like my friend matt who make that happen. thanks to you. and at least for today, i will fly.

matt will also be playing with us this thursday at dirty pretty rockbar, as well as tuesday at martini ranch in scottsdale.

check him out. hes a smart dude. and my friend.

as the light flickers from the upstairs, we are back at another tipping point. when the wind passes through the gallows and a million voices whisper the soft word of help, smoking out the issue is the only appropriate task at hand. somedays are easier than others; somedays cant get out of bed. even somedays are catatonic, but like everything else the show must go on. meet goliath, a narcissistic giant with not too much room left in a large stomach. holding a hammer made of paper mache, goliath swings hard at us to beat and push and drain the energy from us. Goliath is a desperate man, a desperate giant, a desperate monster, has never had a conversation in his lifetime without saying the word “I” seven times.

throughout the years, goliath has beaten and battered all who have stood before him with his pliable hammer made of paper, removing the life from each and everyone: soul theif. until today. i am going to grab my gun, put on my suspenders and shoot him one hundred and eight times. the revolution is closer. the change is now open. let no one steal your soul. let no one control your destiny. throw away all your money, and lets do this together. money cannot control, neither can goliath.