Bedpunk

by Just Nick

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about

Bedpunk is a 9-track album written and recorded in a musty dorm room in Santa Cruz, Ca. by Nick Wuebben.

Big hugs and a high fives go out to: Sophie (my little sis), Trevor Buck, Joe Wise (The Limes/Alexander the Grape), Jesse Markway (Paper Ceilings), Tommy and Astrid (Moon Bandits), Elijah Llinas (Human Kitten), Devin Kastler (D.K. Slider), Gabe Lopez (Swet), Hannah Beth Ragland, the rest of my family, and all of my other friends at UCSC (for not telling me to shutup after recording 19 tracks of the same goddamn song over and over again).

credits

released January 31, 2014

All songs written and recorded by Nick Wuebben (Just Nick).

Artwork by Hannah Beth Ragland (allmymetaphors).

Guest Vocals on "Bedpunk" by: Joe Wise, Jesse Markway, Neely Oeftering, Tommy Danger, and Devin Kastler.

Buh, duh, duh duh's (on "Songs about Girls") by: a whole bunch of kids from B4 and beyond.

Special thanks to Trevor Buck for recording help and being my best friend.

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Just Nick Santa Cruz, California

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Track Name: Bedpunk
Sometimes I'm the Al Gore of my social circle
the unelected, the second best,
and very rarely I'm a real fuckin' pushover.

Sleepin' in till' 10am has never felt better.
I'm just a bedpunk makin' the most of my last summer.
I won't keep in time with a job to scrape by, or that kind of thing.
and I cry sometimes because I can't help but hate the fact I'm leaving...

The perfect love, the perfect way
to have the same old habits, the same clichés
Tortoise-shell glasses make me feel pretty lame,
but you can't take 'em with you when it's all gunna end 'cause...

Waking up at 6am has never felt better
I'm just an adult waving away to my last summer
I'm gunna miss my friends, I'm gunna miss this town for a stupid degree
but I'll be back to rule the world when we find meaning in our suffering

Sleepin' in till 10am has never felt better,
we're just some bedpunks
living as if it's always summer
We won't keep in time or remember our lines when we try to sing,
but we'll be back to rule the world when we find meaning in our suffering.
Track Name: Dear Friend
When you asked me if that song was about you,
I lied and I said no.
When you asked me if that song was about you,
I said go away,
and take your lack of loyalty and your dead brain cells so far away
and maybe one day you'll listen to me and stop wasting away.

When you asked me why no girls ever liked you,
when you asked me why your happiness always fell through,
I tried so hard not to feel like a sadist.
We tried so hard not to cry.
Honestly, man, all those times were the greatest
but I've got to stop thinking I'm better than everyone else.
Track Name: I Really Just Want to Sleep
I’ve never tried a hallucinogen,
a chemical snore,
an FM-radio sized gap
between my brain
and my spinal cord.
I don’t need
a false reality
to remind myself
that my visual perceptual property
is at war with an organ
that really just wants to sleep.

tonight I’m going to take that inbound train
just to reason and remember
the burning from the cherry flavored brandy
the cold December we found somethin’ better
and I don’t need
another drop to date
or the liquid courage
to say that I’ve fallen in love
with my best friend
can I come over,
crawl under your covers and never wake up?
Track Name: A Skeptic's Love Song
Well, I need you like foreign oil
and you need me like a hospital bed
But girl you ain't got no health insurance
and the U S of A don't care if you're dead.

Because a little bit of skepticism can go a long way,
sell 50 presale tickets and then you can play
all those dirty vegan punx, are so full of hate.
You're the Nixon to my Watergate.

My best friends Dionysus, and Apollo OD'd on crack,
we're just runaway kids with books full of pages
'till we learn our lesson, we ain't comin' back.

'Cause those who scream the loudest will always be heard.
All cats are beautiful,
and all cops are bastards (not really).
They can drag me away,
but I swear I'll fight back,
because I love you like the Patriot Act.
Track Name: Closet Prophet
I'm an accidental anarchist
Still don't have my drivers liscense, yet.
And I don't ride bikes like some punks do
'Cause I just walk 'till there's holes in my shoes.
and there's tape on my sole and a hole in my chest that's next to a heart that's sending
dirty looks back to the kid with the 395$ vintage punk leather jacket.
And I don't think I could ever write song
that you could relate to,
but you probably say you do,
and who the hell am I to judge you?
Yeah, who the hell am I to judge you?
Oh, I'm your closet prophet
and your bible says I'm long overdue.
Track Name: One Way Trip
This is a one way trip.
and I feel undone.
the only thing keeping me going
is knowing that my presence and absence mean something to someone else.
and I like that joy division t-shirt you're wearing, just kidding, I hate it, they've got it, they've all fucking got it, goddamn, good goddamn.

Well I have my doubts,
and a crooked smile.
It don't take long to figure out
what all these kids thought college was about
and I'll take what your stumbling steps speak with a grain of salt, and hope that your artist's rendition
isn't a product of hopeless addiction

I don't hate you
I just hate your drugs
railing lines of popularity
so we can't just how far down we've come.
and I want to be so selfless and caring and most altruistic, but most of the time we judge the sadistic
and you're probably thinking I'm narcissistic.
Track Name: Capital
Let's make a capitol F for U
can't you C I'm oh K
So Y O U
anything more than big "fuck you!"

I wish that John Hinkley Jr. would've been at the scene, when the ghost of Ronald Reagan came to me in a dream, he said "make the rich man richer,"
I said "hey man, you've already done that."

my student loans are mediocre at best,
and singin' angsty songs don't make me an activist
living paycheck to paycheck, is the hardest goddamn thing that I haven't had to do yet

(So lets make some capitol, x3)

I met some kids, who believed in anarchy
so they showed us their distaste and how to plead with gasoline
they said "blame society," I said "we are society"
stop pointin' fingers your goddamn at everyone else

for the reasons you might live
and the reasons you might die
for the reasons that we're broke
from trying to survive
If you ain't gunna pay your taxes, at least try and wash your own goddamn dishes.

(So lets make some capitol, x3)

Let's make a capitol F for U
can't you C I'm oh K
So Y O U
anything more than big "fuck you!"
Track Name: Phony Love Stories
After the show I wondered "where are my friends?"
But then I remembered
all the best nihilists are dead
hangin' out in a slaughterhouse near dresden or breaking records on an icy central park bench
but that was so long ago,
it's been two years since then.
Their spines were ruined,
but I still loved them.

I thought I liked myself, but then I met you.
You liked Fitzgerald, I hated The Great Gatsby, but I still liked you anyway.
and now I love myself, because I look through those big brown eyes
but all those neo-teenage romance novels suck because there's werewolves,
love triangles, and vampiric kind.
A wise man said the sun comes out,
but only when it feels like comin' out.

There's this box in my room that's packed up for school, full of friendly faces, and timeless rules.
There's no phony love stories or deathless prose,
But there's some dead philosophies, hey, so it goes.
I thought I liked myself, but then I met you.
let's leave the takers alone and maybe one day I might just find that perfect home.
And now I love myself because I looked through those big brown eyes. Lets hope we can read Hemingway and our troubles might go away, the spanish civil war has never seemed so romantic.
Track Name: Songs about Girls
I've got real hard time writin' song about girls
I've spent too much time tryin' to work out my morals
but thats a good thing
youve got to love yourself before you love anyone else but im still a work in progress cant you see
cant you see
from broken hearted boys,narcissistic self destruction
to every girl I've ever had to say I'm sorry to
my broken strings and shitty songs are all id ever offer
and tear my heart out is all I'll ever want to do

Sure I'm a cynic, but I've got integrity
its hard to laugh when you lack originality
try hard to find out what punk rock really means
sometimes a poet runs outta' ink and has to fuckin'
scream

I've got a real hard time writin' songs, honestly
cause my honesty is killing everyone around me
when you fall in love with your best friend
do you try your best or do you just pretend that everything's gonna work itself out
I swear to god, If it dont work, then I am gunna die
I don't believe in him, but I believe in you and I
so here's the plan, lets run away, and set the world on fire, lets scream this song until our hearts and lungs expire..

Duh, duh, duh duh.