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Out There E​.​P.

by Benoit Christie

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1.
Grand-Maman 03:46
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My Grandma is a person who's much more than my hero, She helped raise me up from just a snot-nosed double zero I always go to visit, whenever I'm in town And even though I raid the kitchen, she don't mind me being 'round Sometimes I'm too familiar, sometimes I'm kinda rude, But I can't say that I know what I would have done without all that food, that she gave me, that foo. . . o-o-ood foo. . . o-o-ood that foo. . . o-o-oo, o-o-oo... My Grandma is a person who's been through more than me, and whatever she has I know she'll share it readily I had to learn to say no thanks, to what I didn't need Cuz' after all, really all I got is just one mouth to feed Sometimes she's a bit eccentric, sometimes she's got no brakes But I can't say that I've lived my young life without making mistakes, makin' Mista. . . a-a-akes Mista. . . a-a-aKes Mista. . .a-a-a, a-a-a… (Pour les francophones cette fois) Ma Grand-Mère est une personne qui me donne de l'espoir, et moi qui la connait je sais qu'elle s'en fout de la gloire Elle a fait le tour du monde, avec mon Grand-Père, Et maintenant tout mes plus beaux t-shirts viennent de la friperie "Les Petits Frères" Ma Grand-Mère est solide man, comme le Gibraltar, Et puis je sais que j'devrais l'écouter quand elle me dit de pas m'coucher trop ta. . . a-a-ard trop ta. . . a-a-ard trop ta. . . a-a-a, a-a-a. . . (improv) Oh, the cells in my body came from one single egg, I cannot trace it back all to where we first beg, For all our beginnings to be so clean and shapely, My Grandma is a person, and she sure is stately She helped raise me up from just a snot-nosed double zero, and I always go to visit, whenever I'm in town. . . In town. . . in town. . . In town. . . in town. . . And even though I raid the kitchen, She don't mind me being 'round, being 'round. . .
2.
Karen 03:16
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It was in first-year university, It was about to see the worst of me, But for now I floated in a bubble of your bliss. . . I followed you for weeks, Just to brush against your cheeks And take a bite out of the apple of your kiss. . . It tasted so fine. . . Tasted so fine. . . Tasted so fine. . . Like a local Macintosh I don't think I'll ever forget That first night we spent together Glueing stars upon your dorm room ceiling . . . You made me feel so nice, you made me Feel like I was priceless, You made me feel like I didn't care what I was feeling . . . It was it was so fine. . . Oh what a time. . . It was so fine. . . To this day I can't believe I lived it (You were a beautiful girl, who was great at math and an artist!?) But I guess I should have noticed maybe When I kept trying to call you "Baby" That was not a nickname you took to very well And I couldn't give you what you need, I just wanted to keep on smoking weed, And before I knew it, you and I were through, oh hell! You drew the line, and now you're with him, and that's alright You drew the line, and now you're with him, and that's alright You drew the line. . . Maybe you even tried to draw it sooner? (I mean we were on life-support by the end, I dunno why I didn't notice) But it was in first year university, It was about to see the worst of me, And I decided I needed more than a friend. . . I hope you're seeing better days and I hope he treats you the way you know you deserve And I really hope I see you again. . . Karen. . . Karen. . . I hope I see you again Karen. . . Karen. . . I hope I see you again Can't run, can't run, We should just have been friends, Karen. . . Karen. . .
3.
My Hands (Real Shit) 04:06
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My hands are stressed-out single moms, Trying to make that money They get up at the break of dawn, (Whisper to their sleeping child) "Time to wake up honey. . ." Hey now, I been talkin bout the real shit all my life Hey now, been talkin bout the real shit all my life My feet are tired working men, Trying to make a dollar They get up at like 6 am, I don't know why they bother Hey now, been talkin bout the real shit all my life Hey now, I been talkin bout that real shit. . . My teeth are yellow dogs with rabies, My heart's a bird singing "Maybe, maybe!" My lips are fish left out in an earthquake, My bones seem to think that they're all made up of snakes but, Don't get it twisted, my tongue could never tell a lie Hey now, I'll be talking real shit 'til I die. . . Til I die. . . Til I die. . . Til I die. . . My hands are stressed-out single moms, They're just trying to make it They don't always know what's going on, Sometimes they gotta fake it Hey now, I been talkin bout the real shit all my- Hey now, I been talkin bout the real shit all my- Hey now. . . I been talkin bout the real- I been talkin bout the real- I been talkin bout the real shit All my life. . .
4.
Nothing I Make Is My Own 02:49
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Nothing I make is my own, Take it away and make it better Nothing ever leaves my heart full-grown So take it away and make it better Left to myself I got no future, Sweat into my sweater, come at my computer Nothing I make really is my own. . . One time I wrote a grocery list, I wrote it out of colour that didn't yet exist, And wouldn't you know it? It disappeared As it lay clenched inside my fist Nothing I make belongs to me, As time goes by it's plain to see So take it away and make sometime better out of it (Like this: ) Doo, doo-doo-doo. . . I used to think my songs were something new, That only I could make them come true, But all my favourites rip off their favourites too! Nothing I make belongs to me, On giants shoulders now I see that All I want to leave behind Is a sparkle in your peace of mind Nothing I make is my own, Take it away and make it better, Take it away and make it better, Cuz, nothing I make is my own So take it away and make it better, Take it away and make it better, Take it away and make it better, Maybe we can both be reverse trend-setters

about

I'm still pretty new to recording my own music, so I chose to release four songs that I'm really comfortable with. I also wanted the recording process to be exciting, something outside the studio environment.

I approached my friend Tariq Anwar about doing field recordings of my songs in "sonically interesting places", and soon we were exploring underground tunnels, green spaces and construction sites. Between providing equipment, transportation, and taking photographs, Tariq's presence was instrumental to the project. Once we were done recording, Will Thorne-Morris provided fantastic studio magic on very short notice, bringing the recordings to life in ways that utterly baffled me.

I've provided a bit of background for each song, along with the lyrics. I hope you enjoy listening and reading as much as I enjoyed putting this together!

credits

released June 8, 2014

All songs written and performed by Benoit Christie
All songs recorded by Tariq Anwar
Backup vocals on Grandmaman and shakers on My Hands provided by Tariq Anwar
Mastering/Studio Magic provided by Will Thorne-Morris

Album art designed by Benoit Christie
Photos by Tariq Anwar


Thanks to Mindy Amelotte for suggesting interesting sites around the city!

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Benoit Christie Ottawa, Ontario

I write songs, or try to write songs, or write fake songs, or sometimes write real songs, and sometimes i love the songs i make and sometimes they are just ok and that is ok

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