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Cold City

by Eux Autres

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never knew you cared till we rounded the reserves at reading / training punch ups so i guess it’s westward we’re heading / a poor scoring record on the transfer market has never meant a thing / but this calendar unification won’t take away the sting / give ‘em hell boys europe’s all we’ve left / cup ties result in unrest / winter break for twelve days of recess in rio / closed training, a towel, some sun block, a speedo / no domestic fixtures and a doping scandal have tainted our success / the spaniards had our number, we’re no better than the rest / i’m coming home, i’m always coming home unless i’m leaving home, no one to say goodnight to / send a message up the line there’s nothing left to steal / sharpen your spikes, boys, mercy is for the unfit / it’s the deadball era, your waspy portfolio is shit / groundskeepers hiring hitman catchers are foiled / you goddamn dutchman, your perfect fortress is spoiled
Molly 03:01
i left a camel coat on the train to Idaho / out on the ninth fairway, and then a chimney dusts it all in grey / molly, where you been tonight / when she discovered me, she took my matches and my keys / and then she stole my socks, gave me a room without a view, and flipped the locks /when you take your leave of me, tell the people that you see in the places that you roam: someone needs you back at home / i’m gonna count to ten and hope you change your mind by then / and then i’ll steal your socks, give you a room without a view, and flip the locks
Gratte-Ciel 03:18
on voit les gratte-ciel de la fenêtre de notre chambre / quand j’étais petite mon frère me disait “ne regarde pas” / on voit les animaux de la fenêtre de notre chambre / j’ai besoin de papier pour couvrir ma fenêtre
When I'm Up 03:16
when i’m up, i’m always up and down, ambitions run aground / i go out among the shuttered homes above the cobbled stones and darkened doorways / when i’m home i can hear the church bells ringing, still calling me out to greet the sun / all alone i can hear the choir singing, pack the bags and tickets cos i’m done / when i sleep, over bars under sheets, i hear them toss around, their limbs become unwound / it’s a shame that anecdotes are gained when scenes are rearranged and carbon dated / it’s a lie: the people on the quay are packing up their days in gilded boxes / when i’m home i can hear the church bells ringing, still calling me out to greet the sun / underneath my feet the pavement’s singing, pack the bags and tickets cos i’m done
Anne Boleyn 03:06
for your little taste of freedom, never around when you need ‘em, just when you want to have fun / lost and found on streets that were paved with no plans, wander to mess around three and hope that the natives aren’t done / don’t forget, this moment arrives every four years, conversation’s been smothered by your cheers, too thin for the rest of the boys / i never took notes before this one: smart much too smart for your boyfriend, don’t believe in the books that he’s read / all for naught, talk about time of the season, never remember the reason, should have listened to colin instead / rise and shine, gone in the car of the people, to eastern islands and film school, with photos of your prison stay / we are in form
we don’t have to hear you, your loose talk will compromise itself / you mention admonition, remember specificity’s a kind of wealth / you waited, abated, to land on the coast, but found rock and shrub instead / among precipitous heights and lascivious nights you still dream of baking bread / the children born of numbers may forgive you at a later date / the compromise of language for ability to relate / the shanty town’s bogging down, mired in mud, but that doesn’t mean they’ve won / if blessed with success, we’re rewarded with rest and the light of a thousand suns / you are not here
hey, i’ll tell you straight, i’ll tell you straight away just where you should go / clocks, they never see to stop, bring stones and rocks while taking stock of ordained folk / seasons in the city, it’s such a pity it all went wrong, so long to wait / dad, i left my wheels and cranks behind only to find the chances went begging / he said, “rico, those spires and steeples are for postcards, not people.” / we never thought it could happen against those northern hordes of blue / when we finally sent them packing, me and the boys knew just what to do / you win, you broke me again but i saw it coming promotions ago / i’m bits and pieces, and bits and pieces don’t equal the whole
it seems we found a new name to change / lately, the smile before you speak: another hand upon my cheek / speed the plow boys before it gets away / your feet mounting the stairs bring me sleep / but baby, any moment i’ll be strong, it might have been there along while i was faking it / I’d rather break it all than watch it fade / graceful exits work from a distance, but up close, blood flows need some resistance / take it back, you could have guessed i wouldn’t take it sitting down
no Iberians or argentine, but up another flight / autumns on the bench, a barbed wire fence will never set you free / up the stairs and in the streets, don’t spend your time ensuring that we can’t compete / you knew / this is a collision, we’re never surviving this fall / it’s lower division for all / never missed a beat, another lost week and not a thing to show / seven sisters back in tow won’t beg or borrow for tomorrow’s tremolo / but I don’t mind
made my way across the continent with nothing but my plates and press / greenwich slowed us with their weights and measures, and now we’re showing signs of stress / i wanna be in the keys, till you’re north for the summer / wandered up the coast and back again with just a bootleg tape of creed / scenes of servants’ mothers and their lovers all taken in at breakneck speed / i wanna be in the keys, but it’s always such a headache / but now i’m here embracing beer till you’re north for the summer / no thinking only dreams and drinking down by the sea / now we’ll show them that their standard’s slipping, grappa sipping / i wanna be among the greeks, but it’s always such a headache / now i’m here embracing beer till you’re north for the summer / plates never fade away / traits never fade away


released December 4, 2007

Eux Autres are:
Nicholas Larimer - guitar/vocals
Heather Larimer - drums/vocals

Jeff Stuart Saltzman contributed various sounds on tracks 1-10. Anna Shelton played violin on track 5.

All songs written and performed by Eux Autres. ©2007 Bons Mots Music (BMI).

Tracks 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 recorded by Jeff Stuart Saltzman and Kendra Lynn at Jackpot and Mysterious Beard in Portland, OR, 2005-06. Track 4 recorded by Jeff Stuart Saltzman at Jackpot and Mysterious Beard in Portland, OR, 2006.

Produced by Jeff Stuart Saltzman and Eux Autres.
Mixed by Jeff Stuart Saltzman at Mysterious Beard, Portland, OR, May 2007.
Mastered by Kevin Nettleingham at Nettleingham Audio, Vancouver, WA, May 2007.

Band photo by Corey Arnold.

Eux Autres, PO Box 11758, Portand, OR 97211

Our deepest thanks to all of our friends, family, and supporters.


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Eux Autres Los Angeles, California

"Hovering somewhere between a high-school French-class assignment and Thee Headcoats."
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