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The Little Death

by Ruth Ruth

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about

This fiercely neurotic, shamelessly tuneful, power pop trio offers six nuggets of pure punk - as vehement as hardcore punk anthems but at least ten times as melodic. Fueled by frontman Chris Kennedy's obsessions and misfit anxieties, The Little Death is a blast of quirky, catchy pop with Elvis Costello-ish vocals and fever-pitched guitars. Corralling the energy of a punk band and putting it into a pop band, it's as if The Ramones found the fountain of youth. "Jerome" builds from a whisper to a full-blown scream, while still boasting the tight instrumentation that made "Uninvited" (from their debut full-length Laughing Gallery) a dark-horse radio hit. The LIttle Death was produced by Epitaph Records owner Brett Gurewitz (ex-Bad Religion) and co-released with Epitaph Records. (DER-360)

"This New York band debuted last year with the wonderful Laughing Gallery, and are back with a few more gems up their sleeves. We've heard this sort of hooky, aggressive power-pop from groups such as the Meices and the Doughboys, but the Ruth's secret weapon is vocalist Chris Kennedy. Actually, his vigorous, belting, yet extremely soulful pipes are less of a secret weapon, and more an integral part of the band's frenzied panache. Kennedy has the ability to turn a song such as The Little Death's simple pop-punky Tenderlung into something of an anthem." - Big Takeover

"Finally, music with a backbone. Songs with guts. A singer with a clear, confident voice. That's what Ruth Ruth has going for them, and it's not the only thing. Their new EP packs a major punch into a mere 18 minutes and one second." - Etch

"Ruth Ruth follow up their 1995 debut with an urgent six song effort bursting with joyously buzzing two and three-minute pop ditties that pay well-deserved attention to vocalist/bassist Chris Kennedy's effortless way with semi-classic bubble-gum hooks and sweeping, anthemic, angst-ridden AM-radio blaster choruses. This hyperkenetic EP is essential listening thanks to Kennedy's curiously neurotic world view." - Music Paper

"This gives me the full dose I'd been waiting for yielding a super crisp post pop punk sound akin to the poppier songs of Mr T Experience and maybe Samiam. The songs are very energetic, passionate, and urgent. The singer almost cries. Production is ballsy and will fill the room. These songs are great and radio friendly. That's no easy task." - Zeen

www.deepelm.com/ruthruth

credits

released 14 August 1997

tags

tags: alternative emo indie rock post-rock punk rock

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about

With nearly 200 releases in its discography, fiercely independent Deep Elm Records continues to build a better label - one that operates for glory, not gold. We see our label being about people coming together, meeting, singing and sharing that experience with each other...those are the times that we remember forever. It's about the power of music and the bands that create it. Indie 'til death... ... more

discography

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Track Name: Julia, You Have No Heartbeat
i remember how angry she'd get at me. foolish young temper, now beautiful to me. turning on the shower, the water hit my body. it made me think of julia...no, no. read up on a hobby, the third time down at the pet shop. it made me think of julia...no, no. foolish young temper now beautiful to me. cold like her neck, cuddle up boy, cuddle up. turning on the shower, the water hit my body. it made me think of julia...no, no. i want to buy a flashlight, or maybe clean out my pocket, but i broke down and thought of julia...no, no. cold like her neck, cuddle up boy, cuddle up
Track Name: Brave Girl
how can you think i'd believe that you fell down again? i know that he hit you, and you're crying. i don't think i'm here for you. i don't want to deal with it. i'm the one you run to, i don't buy it. brave girl falling, fall away. brave girl falling, fall today. not even a week ago, locked out in your underwear, with a bloody lip and the baby. you dirtied-up my telephone. your mother came to talk to you. i gave away my shirt and you thanked me. brave girl falling, fall away. brave girl falling, fall today. and why even deny what the make-up cannot hide. the only thing real, the anger you feel. where will you be in one month? maybe at your funeral. it wouldn't be that hard to imagine. i know you're up late at night thinking about killing him, but where will your kid wind up if you try it? brave girl falling, fall away. brave girl falling, fall today. and why even pretend you control the game when the only thing real, the anger you feel. the only thing real, the anger you feel
Track Name: Jerome
i want to take you home and prick you with a pin like jerome. he don't like day. i want to get you alone and mend your broken wing, like jerome. he don't like day, only night. i watch him flicker 'round the light. a moth can cry i've heard it weeping, jerome you're the only thing keeping me alive. keeping me alive. keeping me alive. i love you, and i let it show with a brand new pig-feet jar to call home. you don't like day. i love you when you fly, but i'll keep you on page three, petrified. you don't like day, only night. i watch you flicker 'round the light. a girl can cry i've heard you weeping, i think you're the only thing keeping me alive. keeping me alive. keeping me. all the aggravation, when you're under magnification. i want to take you home, and rip out your ugly heart like jerome. you don't like day, only night. i watch you flicker 'round the light. a moth can cry i've heard it weeping, jerome you're the only thing keeping me alive. i've heard you weeping, i think you're the only thing keeping me alive. keeping me alive. keeping me alive. keeping me alive. keeping me
Track Name: Tenderlung
she played a black guitar, hung around her neck in an empty new york bar. with my mind full of make believe, i dreamed i took her home and held her hand and watched tv. then she knew she needed me, then i laughed and went "don't cry." she played what garfunkel wrote, navigating troubled water, hitting every note. with her mind burnt and far away, she dreamed the world invited her to come on out and play, but fate cheated her that day. now we're left to wonder why. she breathed hard in the microphone, then a truck horn drowned her out. a teardrop fell through eternity, then like a tidal wave it found... tenderlung. she pulled my ear to her fevered lips, then i heard a floorboard creak. the doctor told me not to drain her, god help her find relief. she played a black guitar, hung around her neck in an empty new york bar. with my mind full of make believe, i don't know if i'm capable of love but what i feel for her might be real, i'm too delicate to try. she breathed hard in the microphone, then a truck horn drowned her out. a teardrop fell through eternity, then like a tidal wave it found... a teardrop fell through eternity... then like a tidal wave it found... tenderlung
Track Name: Ugly Talents
i heard you fucking that guy all night, up there in my old bedroom, with all my toys and good old dapper dan. where'd you get all that energy? i haven't had that much in my whole life, and now i've grown to be a man. but i liked you from the moment that we met. junior year you taught me how to french, oh god, did i feel proud. great idea, i'll throw a party, get real drunk, then everyone can talk about me when i leave the room. bad idea, you totally ignored me, then you went off with that guido rat. i'll make you pay for hurting me and you do. but i liked you from the moment that we met. remember what you let me touch, how could i know it hurt that much? i want you, and i'll have you in the end. your ugly talents should be locked away, and never heard from again. i played piano real loud while he came in your mouth. i felt betrayed and angry, but why re-live that now? you were quite a wreck the morning after. i made you coffee, then i tried to give you a back rub you told me "don't!" i went ok, then lit a joint up, and tried to act real cool but then it made me cough and phlegm caught in my throat. but i liked you from the moment that we met. you took my poor virginity, it meant the goddamn world to me. i want you and i'll have you in the end. your ugly talents should be locked away. your ugly talents should be locked away, and never heard from again. your ugly talents should be locked away, locked away, locked away
Track Name: Daddy Can't Shoot
train, train bleeding the dirt. comb my hair with a mouth full of cola, drop downtown to pick a girlfriend there, from all the cold-cut pretty and the kool-aid hair. i want to measure to the pleasure, i've got a sure-fire come-on and a two ton feather in a velvet cathedral, fresh like a needle. puncture my feet like a walk on the shag. i've got a thumb like a crocodile, breath like a fish. hey, pinball gigolo, weren't you an indian? people like me and channel thirteen, we're different... different like rain. daddy can't shoot, tell me where'd i come from? i want the truth. daddy can't shoot, tell me where'd i come from? i want the truth. my mother picked me out of a mail-order catalog. a jujifruit jim, a buy one get one, female to female, angie to angie. i found out later that a dyke ain't daddy, but a big hunk o' love with a waterproof memory. the devil rode in on a fifth grade pony, and he called me a faggot then laughed like a showgirl. i ran home and turned on the radio. captain and tenille were fucking in the living room, a thing like that can change a boy. a thing like that, a thing like that can change a boy. daddy can't shoot, tell me where'd i come from? i want the truth. daddy can't shoot, tell me where'd i come from? i want the truth. new york medical called me pathetical, then blamed it all on peanut-butter lockjaw. returned me home with a medal for a hero. mtv, generation blowjob. i'm alright with mom and mom. i'm alright, according to madonna. i've got a record deal, i've got a video. women writing me without wearing underwear. measure to the plea sure, i've got a surefire come on and a two ton feather, and a blackhead, flattop licking at my gumdrop, bring me my money, clap on clap off. people like me and channel thirteen, we're different...different like rain. daddy can't shoot. tell me where'd i come from? i want the truth. daddy can't shoot. tell me where'd i come from? tell me where'd i come from?