More More More

by The No-Nation Orchestra

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Joerg Krafczyk
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Michael Beaver
“The Talking Heads without the weirdness, Fela Kuti with An absolute hipster vibe and Prince minus the leotards.”
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Mathieu Gagnon
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  • 12" 45rpm EP

    Audiophile 180 gram transparent blue 12" vinyl with killer artwork by the talented Sri Whipple. Immediate digital download version included.

    Includes immediate download of 5-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.

    Buy Now  $12 USD or more

    ships out within 3 days
    edition of 225 

  • Digital Album

    Immediate download of 5-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.

    Buy Now  $5 USD  or more

  • Limited Edition Hand-Screened Poster

    Hand-screened poster from Sri Whipple. Each is unique, with different colors.

    - 15"x20"
    - 8 Colors, including Metallic Gold
    - Printed on Rives BFK Acid-Free Paper
    - Edition of 46
    - Hand numbered and signed

    Buy Now  $15 USD or more

    ships out within 3 days
    edition of 46 
1.
05:26
lyrics
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2.
04:16
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3.
01:37
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4.
05:33
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5.
04:41
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credits

released 27 September 2011
On the EP:
Stephen Chai: Songs, Vocals, Keys, Woodwinds
Josh Dickson: Drums, Percussion, Trumpet
Mike Sasich: Guitar, Recording, Mastering
Weston Wulle: Bass

Nabaloney 001
nobaloneymusic.com

Also in the band:
Marco Blackmore: Alto Sax
Josh Francis: Trumpet
Derek Howa: Rhodes
Angie Harker: Vocals
Angie Midgley: Vocals
Patrick Mac: Congas
Angie Midgley: Vocals
Dan Nelson: Tenor Sax
Jared Russell: Bari Sax

tags

tags: afrobeat indie latin soul world Salt Lake City

license

all rights reserved

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about

"The Talking Heads without the weirdness, Fela Kuti with An absolute hipster vibe and Prince minus the leotards." (Salt Lake City Weekly)

Some of SLC's favorite musicians uniting for a new experiment; something between Afrobeat, Indie and Soul. Members of Laserfang, Night Sweats, Afro Omega, Bronco, Thunderfist, SLAJO, The Chickens and Samba Fogo. For fans of NOMO, Funkadelic, MIA, and Kuti. ... more

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Track Name: More More More
Gonna start a fight tonight.

Gold to buy the public power.
To keep my friends well fed.
To guarantee so much more more more.
Sold to the highest bidder.
In back room delation our fingers claw
We want more more more.

Toe the line, toe the line. We toe the line.

Gonna start a fight tonight.

Hush.
Dim the lights and draw the curtains.
Keep outside eyes outside.
We arbitrate for more more more.
Then shout our underwritten opinion on daytime television.
Our talking points yell we want more more more.

Toe the line, toe the line. We toe the line.

Got a devil in my soul.
He's paid to be there.

More more more. We want it all.
We want it all.
Track Name: Oh Now Baby
Oh now baby, tell me what I gotta do to have you come over.

I'd love to have your company.

Oh now baby, tell me what I gotta do to make you come over.

I'd love to have your company.

I fell for you so come over.
Track Name: Bloodsucker
It would have been a good idea, had it been yours.
You were so sure everyone loved you, but then you asked.
You didn't like what you heard, 'cause it went something like this:
Oh, why can't you leave us alone?
You make the cut, pick the scab, and come back for more.
Oh, why can't you leave us alone?
You make the cut, pick the scab, and come back for more.
Track Name: Find Me The Savory Sound
Day, another day, full of life without living.
Void of hot and cold, a nine to five with no flavor.
It's a fallen fortress.
It's a river damned.
It should flow throughout you,
But you built the damn.

Go out of the city.
Find me the savory sound.
Go out of the city.
Find me the savory sound.

Dull shades of grey pass on by with no color.
Time marches on, and your face feels much older.
It's a fallen fortress.
It's a river damned.
It should flow throughout you,
But day by day you built the damn.

Go out of the city.
Find me the savory sound.
Go out of the city.
Find me the savory sound.
Track Name: Holy Holy
Holy holy walking down, down the street.
Looking left, left, right for catastrophe.
Hoping he can start one 'cause he wants to be famous in the movies or a magazine.
But I, I saw it coming.
But I knew what was coming.
I saw the gun hidden in his book.
His fake shiny teeth told me he's a crook.
So I went home and locked myself in 'cause I want no part in this.

No one noticed the signs.

He makes your face all red for the things you've done.
He makes your belly all yellow for the things that you didn't.
And when you're left with nothing but blue he says "I know the score, yeah, I've been there before, so
Hand me the money, I'll give you the honey.
A sweet sugar taste is what you need to get you out of bed and up onto your feet.
So sign the dotted line for absolution from all the shame I forced you to."

So he sold it again.

No no, its criminal. Its criminal. Its fear.