We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Last Piece Of A Broken Cause

by The Blend

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $4 USD  or more

     

1.
It was a rock and roll band tryin’ to fit the program with an avid emcee, big amps, and no fans. Rockin’ low-to-no-class, sittin’ next to no chance couldn’t open up shows ‘cos the garage door jammed. They had rhymes and beats, bass lines and keys, guns, guitars, bars, fresh jive, and reeds, anything you would need to get L-I-V-E except they didn’t have a title to define their steez. Some said they sounded like the other side of the street, some said somewhere else, or somewhere in-between, nonetheless, they didn’t fit, and had to walk their own path in a city built of fences based on old math. Standin’ on the wrong side of the romance handcuffed to embarrassment for another slow dance. I throw away the keys, and let apathy choreograph it. Tell her to keep it movin’ and watch the New Balances. - Chorus If it all went down tomorrow what you gon’ do If it all went down tomorrow what you gon’ do - So low, we only get up to get over it. The Blend is gangstalicious with five types of sobering. Puttin’ the “B” back into “B-minus”. Franklin’s eastside & 38th street’s finest. So tired of copin’ and burnin’ at both ends, it feels like times frozen when you’re reachin’ til the sky’s broken, fightin’ hopeless, dreamin’ with your eyes open, and all you’re left with is a drunk dial focus. Forget progress, just keep it in motion, and I’ll test the water ‘til the day I dive in the low-end. Baby, I’m crazy, you can check it with a microscope. We’ll build a village before we ever find a home. That’s bond like an isotope, ever since sittin’ in class with the gelly rolls writin’ notes. We dare your faith, and gamble with no chance, dismantle the breaks and keep it in motion. - Chorus - It was a rock and roll band tryin’ to fit the program sittin’ in Wicker Park, thinkin’ of where they gon’ land. Unsettled, tryin’ to find resolve while reachin’ for the sky felt like they were fallin’. A formula for failure, crash waiting to happen, disappointment that’ll never stand to last. If it’s not meant to be, then that’s two-thirds my reasoning to rip the gas mask of clean and start breathin’ it, to fight a losin battle and start bleedin’ it, to piece together a broken cause and believe it. We only work with terms of the immediate. Tomorrow’s comin’ and a throw down’s proceedin’ it. Enjoy the evening and the rest of the night ‘cos it’s melee in the morning and another risky dive. I can’t help but to stare at the sun, to see who burns out first, or packs up and makes a run.
2.
Puttin’ the “W” from “What the hell’s the fuckin’ point” back into action. You talk a good one, but you won’t talk it, unless you’re standin’ next to your captain. Makin’ rent, payin’ debt to your taxes, the natural born ransoms. If ya wanna bury the hatchet, you’ll have to kill bein’ passive. Yeah, ya run around, run around, run around, but don’t know what’s happenin’. Pretending you’re familiar, when there’s no need to act it. - Chorus To be a common face for a common sake with no common gain, puts us all at stake. When you draw a line, and smile to shame, to deny you’ve made a divine mistake when you’re taught that you’re not the problem or at fault, then my friend, you’re just another brick in the wall - Talk about what’s in style, walk around circles you’re lost in. Rock a lost-and-found broken smile, just to hide what the cost is. Bring your make-up when you fall from graceful. Child, believe me you’ll have to mask it. It’ll be no different from decorating your casket. - Chorus To be a common face for a common sake with no common gain, is a common waste. When were all prolonged by miles of shame- look what your lies have made. Hope you fall in flames when you’re taught that you’re not the problem or at fault, then my friend, you’re just another brick in the wall.
3.
Dishonor 04:25
I’ve been runnin’ on a gram of sanity, and small portion of sorts since the day they drew the line and started constructin’ the fortress. Designed it to confine the seeds and styles of beats & rhymes to just a title, and define what-not and what the art form is. Settin’ the stage up for a live performance of heated egos burnin’ down to mild and shortlived. Of course kid, there’s gonna be collidin’ forces when they’re supplyin’ unreliable sources, sellin’ resistance as a hopeless fight, pushin’ addictions to temporary shine beneath a broken light, soaked in spite, assumin’ I oppose your tribe while I’m dancing on the fence because I never chose a side. Discontent in a city cold and dry, where people offer peace treaties only with hopes to fight. Sold on hype, like liquor at a thrift store and forgot what they’re raisin’ their fists for. Convinced a guest list is still an open door, and opportunity means somebody has to get poor. You’d sympathize, but it’s easier to ignore and pretty your face while your heart deforms. I’ve seen the beast play, seen it defeat change- you try and play it cool, and it exhales a heatwave. You bring the flames, and it’s breathin’ freezin’ rain- it’ll have your heart skippin’ beats like old records on replay, scuffed CDs & frustrated DJs. So, you built walls to make sure your seeds keep safe, and left the outside to feed the beast’s appetite. I tell my brothers that we’re gonna have to see past the fight, sacrifice and hope less is more, unlearn the syllabus and burn the old test scores. I row my boat through a sea of battleships to Minneapolis, and storm the gates as soon as I hit shore. - Chorus All the while, the walls grow thick and get higher, grass outside it sits dien, everybody tells me that I’m waitin for a date that’s expired, as I plan to set fire to the empire. I got a one-way ticket goin’ into town, a pen and a backpack to hold me down. Mama said be careful how you hold the mic, somebody’s gonna take ya life. - I can hear the bass boomin’ through the ceiling while I’m studyin’, layin’ extra low on a apartment parties jumpin, and I’m not quite sure if we’re all on the same tip, I’d give one’a ya’ll an arrow, but I don’t know where you’d aim it. I’d hate to go and waste’em on someone preachin’ and claimin’ “It’s all good and great man, what’s the reason for complainin’”. Defendin’ the problem and disillusioned just to think hip-hop is all inclusive and no alienatin’ a massive amount of people outside the outside that don’t identify with anything but being undefined. Standin on the side of a line undermined, undesigned left to use all they have and shoot it blind. A mess, run out of good gestures and first impressions to paint the picture pleasant past the tension. Backed into a corner, and then what’re ya left with? A rebel with the means of resistance. I’ve been sittin’ on a corner with an empty plate, watchin’ my brothers run faster than the Drake Relays. They want us livin in the dark until we can’t see straight, meanwhile my eyes are fixed upon the walls each day. I plot the plan until morning murders midnight, keep to myself and watch the rhymes turn to fist fights. For some, beyond themselves is something they can’t reach, comatosed to deep sleep with brain bleach, And I get tired of waking up to see the same side of A divide that gets wider and denial for a quire. Singin’ a sermon that only serves as a reminder, the day you lose the fight, is the day you compromise it. It’s grown so high it’s cast a shadow on the hillshire, and it’s time to hit the grounds like my last name was Detwiller. A crown of headtrips and castle made of fences built around an exit without an entrance - Chorus
4.
Waitin’ on the phone call not so calm, but hopeful tryin’ to hold on and not get thrown off. All alone, kept company by four walls with no cause but to post up or doze off. For so long, this routine goes on and on with no pause in its absence of vocals. Embarrassed in the presence of no one, as if my so-called social life and I broke up. Had your hopes up and completely out of focus waitin on a date that was never gonna show up. The way the game is played, will leave your system devastated. Many crews are makin’ moves outta desperation. Clothed in a sold-off style they don’t own just those kids that just showed up to show off, struggling to hold the pose with no flaws, whistlin’ that same old song to cover up old scars. A lie, exhaled in the air, floatin through the breeze in the atmosphere and everybody’s takin’ hits like they just don’t care- obsessed with the right now and right here. I pocket the phone and hop back on the saddle, bike into the thick late night. I’m after the moment. Headed deep into the masses drunk with pride and overdosed on fashion, pre-tattered fabric, pants sand blasted, hats’a slanted sideways and backwards, movin like a tantrum caught in molasses, the party’s in the house and the house is on the campus. I’m showin’ up all late, not that fly, lost and uninvited, lookin like that guy tryin’ to kill time to look like I’m in the know. Fuck it, I’ma break out the phone. Yo, - Chorus Leidi Ann, Leidi Ann, tell me what’s the plan. Have ya heard of anything goin down that’s big. I’m in a place right now, don’t really know where it is and wouldn’t mind to find somewhere else to fit in. So just roll, roll, both sleeves back and take your time while I’m on the run. I’m on a mystical quest to find where it’s at, just another flame on the sun. - Instead of loungin’, I bounced around, grabbed a cup off the counter and cleaned it out, caught a glare from this chick holdin’ down the house, but I played it off leanin’ up against the wall. Now I know what you wanna think. I know how it seems- I ain’t ya Average Joseph, I wasn’t born last week. I roll with midnight mailmen, and beautiful thieves, swim in streams of heavy hair gel and bleach. Everything between confident to not sure, freaks and band geeks to the startin’ roster, hesitant to speak to compulsive talkers. Whoa, the phone’s ringin’. Man, that’s Sean from Rockford. “Low and behold, Mr. Popular” Holla More like self-conscious here. Yea Yea “What’s up, where you at, what’s good? sounds like a party goin’ on in there.” True, it’s not bad, they got two tapped kegs, the ratios about half, equal dudes to gals. Everybody’s getting’ down ‘til the cops come round, so swing through with your crew on that right about now. It’s design is too fast for time, last thing you want is to be last in line, stuck reaching with a cup, shoulder to shoulder- hey I got another call, let me click over. Yo - Chorus Brother Will, Brother Will, tell me what’s the deal Have ya heard of anything goin’ down that’s ill I’m in a place right now, don’t really know where it is and wouldn’t mind to find somewhere else to fit in. So just roll, roll, both sleeves back and take your time while I’m on the run. I’m on a mystical quest to find where it’s at, just another flame on the sun.

credits

released June 2, 2006

Vocals & Lyrics by Toussaint Morrison
Bass by Daniel Leussler
Keys by Linden Killam
Percussion by Spencer Austin
Guitar by Ryan Morgan

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

The Blend Minneapolis, Minnesota

A nationally touring group of misfits making sound wherever beckoned, The Blend dominated the midwest pioneering hip-hop and rock in the same breath from dingy basement rock shows to capacity hip-hop shows. Now, their fate unknown having disbanded for several years, Linden Killam and Toussaint Morrison continue the group's legacy of unconventional, top tiered sound. ... more

contact / help

Contact The Blend

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

The Blend recommends:

If you like The Blend, you may also like: