kaliphornya girlsssss

by tbi

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5 years in the making.

Kaliphornya Girlsssss is probably the first and last "rock" release by Troubled By Insects. Six fuzzy, high-octane, lo-fi tracks on the pratfalls of the male gaze in the context of the Golden State, amidst other signifiers.

Girlsssss is also the first part of a trilogy of albums exploring miseducated adolescence, the trials and travails of early adulthood, burgeoning sexuality and gender identity.

The album download includes the 30+ page Kaliphornya Girlsssss chapbook, a responsive work that evolves upon and expands the dialogue of the album and its respective themes with words, images, illustrations, and photography. I am greatly indebted to everyone who contributed to this effort: M. Gomes, N. Spadaro, A. Valdez, M. Olson, V. Loessin, T. Frech, M. Zabel, O. A. Carter, A. Mack.


released February 14, 2013

vox/guitar/bass/keys/RB-338: d.Schultz

written between 2008-2010 in California
recorded between 2009-2011 in the Wishon, Andrews, and Harvard Houses; Fresno, CA

thank you to everyone*

this is CTR013
c. 2013 coattrack records

(*a more expansive thank you/credits can be found in the chapbook.)




tbi Portland, Oregon

tbi =
[troubled by insects]
[total body immolation]
[traumatic brain injury]
[true blind inebriation]
[the backhanded initiation]
[this blunt intercourse]
[total bent isolation]
[this brutal instinct]
... more

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Track Name: L.A. Girls
So I think it's clear now. We've both seen Yoko Ono naked. Maybe not in the flesh but these black and white photographs leave little to the imagination. And I think it has something to do with the reasons why we turn radios down when seeking out house numbers in the dark. And another thing, L.A. girls! Your pink hair and your pleather, oh my! What a pleasure! Maybe someday I'll figure something to say to you, but I don't think it'll happen today, now do you? (No it's not fair what I'm thinking, what you're dreaming.) This is where the rich kids come to die young.
Track Name: City Girls
You're not complaining about any hills. Single speed; messenger bag cinched tight. Yeah, you're doing it right. I don't have any drink tickets left and I don't think I'm ready to admit that I started the night with none. (You're) a sorry excuse for a hippy! Oh, sorry, excuse me--a hipster. I can't afford this like you can't afford this, so let's go get drunk on our favorite urban fantasy. We could wear matching headbands together! Make out on MUNI forever!
Track Name: Clovis Girls
As if high school was developed just to fuck with your head. I never claimed my friends as good influence. As if I need this sordid flashback; these cheerleader demigods. I never claimed I was a model citizen. As if twenty-_______, now figured out. About as late as all hell. I never claimed that you'd survive this unharmed. As if sex was just a metaphor, not adolescent catalyst. I never claimed you'd learn how to guard your heart. I never claimed you'd be prepared to use your arms.
Track Name: Bakersfield Girls
I'm guessing you're at the mall right now. I'm guessing I'm not allowed to hold that against you. I'm guessing those jeans fit pretty tight right now. I'm guessing all that makeup must have cost you a fortune. I'm guessing that boy is your two-week arm candy. I'm guessing that soda bottle is really filled up with brandy. You're guessing because you don't know, so you have to guess. I'm guessing because I don't want to know, I just want to leave the first chance I get. I've had enough of the West.
Track Name: Tehachapi Girls
For eighteen years I heard my mother say: "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." Yeah, maybe I should go and just shut my mouth. So fine, alright, okay then. I guess some of you were pretty.
Track Name: Assessment Risk
Don your keffiyeh, worship Michael Gira, shoot your Polaroids, encourage the void. This went on a bit too long. Go still, further down. Gently ease into the song. Go still, further down. We will meet up sundown to sunup. Corner of the kitchen, bottles to force listens. This won't exist outside of my head. Lifestyle fantasy: faked by all your best friends.