1. |
Roads of Ostende
02:24
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We took left in a dead end street,
Why would you have to rub it to my face?
Something felt a little bit different.
Was it the road left unsaid,
The price that we were supposed to pay then?
The easiest way to the sea, we'll never go back downtown.
We were adolescents, honest, assuming the path's all good.
We were convenient, blindfolded, almost a dead end,
Hopeful, dead wrong, assuming the path's all good.
Please remember the traffic lights, the time we shared, this perfect sight.
And go back there, back to the point when a smile used to count.
You know that this state won't last or does everything have to fall apart?
How can it be so much different, a big disappointment now?
A short accident. Victims. Only a quick change of mood.
Please remember the traffic lights, the time we shared, this perfect sight.
We took left in a dead end street, why would you have to rub it to my face?
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2. |
Insults
02:05
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It's all in your head. Those thoughts are better left unsaid.
A better way to blame the confusion, a good escape from motivation.
Make place for the certainty coming. No space for needed rest,
A soft way to enjoy me hurting, and say "who could have guessed?"
Just asking for a little chance, when insult is all you know, you'll have to let me go.
A cold barricade around each side of our lonely bed.
A faster way to avoid a reflection, to hide and deny the adoration.
A sad face to forbid me from hoping for just a little white flag at best.
Continue to scratch deeper the feeling, like a stab wound in the chest.
Just asking for a little chance, when insult is all you know, you'll have to let me go.
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3. |
A Clown Letter
02:27
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After too many years feeling all alone, I was tired of playing the life game on my own.
Those days of boredom are gone and I'm not tired of waking up.
It was a shame living blissful and carefree, now you're right where I want you to be,
And from now on...
Just hold my hand and we'll go faster
To dad's house and we'll write each other letters.
Just hold tight to this picture. We'll wait for days to become better.
I'll be a clown for your tender smiles and a not so bad example,
A guy you can always talk to, a branch you can hold on to.
Nevermind them, those dads and moms and their fear of the future.
Snuggled up we are just stronger.
Just hold tight to this picture. We'll wait for days to become better.
It was a shame living blissful and carefree,
Now you're right where I want you to be,
And from now on...
Just hold my hand and we'll go faster
To dad's house and nevermind them,
Those dads and moms and their fear of the future.
Just ask your brother.
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4. |
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Stop scratching the surface or being reasonable.
A confusion fueled rage is what you get when nothing else seems to keep you in place.
It’s not the right amount.
It’s not a treatment for the tickles in the back of your head.
Don’t give it too much hope.
It’ll take you somewhere else without walking away.
It’s pushing a quick sob right in the back of your throat.
Simply a short question: How can the calm be so brief? Hard to tell apart?
A sour impression that you didn’t lose a fight that didn’t even start.
After all, you really thought it might work.
Yet it took so much courage to see the damage done.
Wandering in this mist for so long, Feels like there’s nowhere to belong
Night after night you’re sleepwalking ‘cause you’re too tired to fall asleep.
A puzzle with missing pieces. What if the cure is the poison?
Unhealthy repressions feel like an abandonment too strong to outsmart.
Is it a regression?
As if this medication could cure all the fright.
Lock the doors and throw away all the keys,
And wait for the whole house to fall apart.
You didn’t lose a fight that didn’t even start.
Yet it took so much courage to see the damage done
Stop scratching the surface, or being reasonable.
A confusion fueled rage is what you get when nothing else seems to keep you in place.
It’s not the right amount. It’s not a treatment.
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5. |
Grandiose
02:15
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Here we come, some tenderness at last.
An exception, don't get used to it.
For what it costs, better step on each other's faces.
You better close your ears and eyes, better a smoke screen full of lies.
Don't clench your fist, not now.
Consume and be satisfied.
Better complain than be smart.
Everyone is certain to be right.
Clean your mirror before you look at it.
You're not the victim you thought, just a little lost in this fucking paradox.
Instead of loving listening to the sound of your own voice,
Your neighbours might have opinions not as dumb
You better close your ears and eyes, better a smoke screen full of lies.
Don't lose your shit, not now
Consume and be satisfied.
Better complain than be smart.
Everyone is certain to be right
Maybe, maybe not, maybe go fuck yourself.
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6. |
A New Role Model
02:13
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Working hard just doesn’t pay off, breaking your back is far from enough.
Turn on your cam and just act like a moron.
Encouraged to be a show-off, stupidity is the new hot stuff.
Long’s the fall.
See when posting videos online pays ten times more than factory lines, long’s the fall.
See when much needed information turns into screen entertainment overall.
When you don’t create, easier to comment.
A new role model that isn’t worth a shit.
This trend of splashing cash is just nauseating, repugnant to those who can’t even make a living.
Cogitate just doesn’t pay off, better amuse kids to rip off.
Fake interest for the “poor” masses you feed on.
Bunch of dickheads trying to act tough. Pay respect and shut the fuck up.
Long’s the fall.
When you don’t create, easier to comment.
“Subscribe and hit that like button”, if you want to see me and only me.
Ocean of shameless emptiness, and the face that goes with it.
The laziness you feed upon is getting visible, more or less risible.
A charming way to retrogress and the face that goes with it.
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7. |
Marching as a Luxury
02:16
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Frozen hands in the pockets. Silence as a mockery
Broken shoes on the pavement. There’ll be no more escapee.
If you had enough fingers to count the times you’ve been lied to,
You‘ll be the king of this city.
Just agree to disagree.
Just avoid the reaching hands, Watch those clowns on tv.
And they’ll tell you with a smile condescension wins anyway.
It’s always better with a smile to swallow the truth you die to say.
Drowned in a thought they’ll sell you, you’ll get the point no matter what.
It always comes down to a lie.
“It's always better with a smile” they say.
Matching masks, hand painted signs.
Marching as a luxury. Betrayed tired faces.
Anger as a therapy.
And they’ll tell you with a smile how things could be so much worse.
Frozen hands, broken shoes, give us at least a fight to choose.
A wave of millions fake smiles to come
A desperate situation, when a brief hope just turns to none.
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8. |
Failed Accordion
02:26
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A glass, a smoke and a record and he felt like the king of the world.
A souvenir, a piece of plastic.
As he lay there I looked backward.
It’s getting hard to smile at these faces.
A hundred pills took care of this.
No it won’t ever be the same, how could it ever be the same.
He had spent quite a long time trying to ignore all the shit around.
Never take life for granted, yes it feels as awful as it sounds.
No it won’t ever be the same, how could it ever be the same.
And it hurts to see what happened to real friends, somehow lost along the way.
I count them all in my head so they can always be with me.
He trashed his voice on each record, and it felt quite important to me.
A hundred pills took care of this.
Only one guy passing through, just a shadow that I knew, still shone the brightest light.
Spending the summer writing songs, play a record, sing along now that you’re always out of sight.
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9. |
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Something exploded in a back of the basement,
A deafening noise that woke up the parents.
We knew back then.
And with the sound of a cheap drum and an old stereo
Was the best show that nobody saw, still worth the same.
For old time sake,
Before it's too late to remember why we started then.
With only three chords and a head full of dreams,
With only one hope, cheap booze, magazines.
It's all good if it's loud.
For old time sake, before it's too late to remember why we started then.
With only three chords, we did more than we ever thought.
With only bad words, yet it's still living now.
A bunch of sad nerds get to travel the world.
The better things that stayed are friends, laughs, noise in the PA, songs, and love still growing today.
Only memories remain,
For god sake I wish we could cross our paths like we did yesterday
Even at an old time low, keep the highlights, keep the score,
Blow the dust of the picture on the shelf and go.
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10. |
MTL, the Longest Day
02:21
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Let this be some great memories
I’ve seen the sad Longueuil railroad.
If we have to leave Quebec tonight, let’s just say: I see you in Montreal.
Lost and baked out of my mind before noon.
I’ll see you in Montreal.
Jetlagged, astounded and the best band will start soon.
Black clothes on to hide the shame of being such a sensitive kind of a man.
Blown away. Hey tell me, were you here last time, lost in the waiting line?
Let this be the longest day. I swear I’ll see you in Montreal.
Hundreds of beer cans and we will wait together for the sun.
We run to the street “Bullion”. I od’d on those Pabst Blue Ribbon.
It was fun.
Bearded Faces look all the same.
What a fucked up kind of a land.
Let this be the longest day.
Were you here last time and there at the same time?
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11. |
The Farce
02:37
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Through the window we see a strange street.
Too weak to go outside.
Restrained to a media shitshow.
Good for you, freedom will be denied.
A locked up door, a locked up mind.
No one will give a fuck what happens inside.
Soon unconfined,
The farce goes on and on and on, once more.
We punch and punch and punch and hit the door.
A silent war hidden behind a brand new fear for institutionalized oppression.
“Now live on”.
Don't break your chains, stay out of sight
A brand new fear to serve a will to step on millions
It's fucking dead so go outside and now just “live on”.
Just scared and isolated. The birds weasel outside.
It's not easy to feel safe when both your hands are tied.
A worldwide state of panic leads to paranoia.
Why not open that window if we could just decide.
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12. |
Wait 'til III
04:09
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Trapped and bored in my big ass city, as I watch you grow from afar.
Hard to accept and endure the distance. Can’t be as patient as you are.
Leave your phone on, call me back, ‘cause your old man lost all he had.
A fucked up dad.
But a late night movie, close and warm under blankets,
Yeah, it is all that we are left with:
Homeworks and some shitty cooking,
Skateparks and small carousels. Guitars and video games.
It’s all we’ll remember in the end.
Your toys are getting dusty in a dark and empty room, like me still wondering what happened.
Hundreds of hours sleeping in a train to get to see you before it’s dark.
“‘Till next time” seems like an eternity, left alone in this car park.
Leave your phone on, call me back ‘cause your old man lost all he had.
A fucked up dad.
But a late night movie
Close and warm under the blankets
Yeah, it is all that we are left with.
Hard to act like it is nothing when people only care for themselves.
“As long as we have each other”....
To think I made something as beautiful as you back then.
Then my work’s almost done, now that you’ll soon become a man.
To think I made something…
It's been a long trip back only to find an empty home.
We won’t be discouraged by this fucking distance.
Don’t let them tell you otherwise. Don’t let them tell you what happened.
It's been a long and quiet death of a painful hope.
Time makes no difference.
Don’t let them tell you otherwise: everything ends with a smile.
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The Traders Lyon, France
THE TRADERS is a 3 piece band from France, that makes loud rock music.
Think about Motörhead meets with Dead To Me, PUP or None More Black.
The Traders recommends:
Là-dessous, il ne pleut pas
by FEU
French singing and great tunes. FFO Justin(e) and Syndrome 81.
go to album
Captain Are We Thinking?
by Quitters
Romain's other band, indie punk with effects pedals ON.
go to albumIf you like The Traders, you may also like:
supported by 7 fans who also own “"How Much Art Can You Take ?" - Album 2023”
Je vous ai découvert grâce à cette étonnante session hellfest at home 2020, j'ai adoré. Comptez-moi maintenant parmi vos fans en espérant vous voir en concert pour de vrai tout bientôt. Merci pour votre hardcore sans concession !!!! Flo, fan de Metal depuis toujours !
go to album
Envier les vivants - 2020
by Intenable
supported by 6 fans who also own “"How Much Art Can You Take ?" - Album 2023”
un chef d'oeuvre d'écriture et d'arrangements!! Quelle claque!
go to album
Hyperactive, bugged-out post-punk from the duo of John Toohill (Science Man) and Brandon Schlia (Clump).
go to album
Bluesy protopunk in the great Detroit tradition by the city's own the Stools, with dashes of the Stooges, Negative Approach, and the Gories.
go to album
