Throwaway Survival Machine

by cfit

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released September 11, 2015



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Cfit Dublin, Ireland

Cfit began in bedrooms and homemade studios, as a side project for Noël Duplaa evolved into a collection of woozy, bruised, melancholy anthems. Playing their first gig at Electric Picnic 2010 as a three-piece, Cfit expanded to a five-piece to play Hard Working Class Heroes 2010. They have been listed by State, Whelans, goldenplec and The Star as one of the most promising bands in Ireland. ... more

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Track Name: Salvo
there's still time to fall right
Track Name: Dust Silhouettes
fuck this place, let's make dust silhouettes. scapegoats taking space up, looking like idiots. for a beat, in my periphery, buzzing neon signs sang this could be killing us.

i'm in love with everything but this. i'm at a loss with anyone on script.

fuck this place let's make dust silhouettes, i can't taste these sickly satellite syllables. forge your papers, make the border cross, from the moment we touch ground it gets easier.

fuck your plans and fuck your symmetry, fuck your calm you passive little believer. take my hand, close your eyes and run, i swear it's all mime glass cases, cartoon brick walls.
Track Name: Don't Be Discouraged
carry yourself. don't be discouraged. we're in the traps, teeth grinding on the bit. the strands can get a tad bit entangled, that's why i sanded down our hands: now we can just start from scratch.

i kill myself so don't be discouraged. this "all is lost" bit's a part of a bigger scam. so go and show your hand to all the buzzards. you shouldn't worry, i'm turning all my art back into suffering.

it's all there, in sequence, you could gather the soft strands and keep them like secrets and hold them in stasis like an old pro but butterfingers fucks it up with every try.

tell me i'm good, say, "don't be discouraged." say something sharp about the size of the fight in the dog. 'cos these fickle fucks are always blackballing someone, when... come on... there's nothing here you could hang your standard from.

i'm turning all my art back into suffering.
Track Name: Après Moi, le Déluge
wake up, kid, all this siege mentality is not enough. they've been losing territory but we've been losing blood. and i know we chose this fine line but i still can feel the first time.

we both know that the sky does fall and the ground is often fire. and so we try to hold this line, to hold the higher ground. but i hear you through these thin walls, nervous as a pinball, as your shoulder blades start to separate, tiny fretting hands twist and dislocate as it all comes down again. Suffocating in whirling molecules, rows of pressure waves. hold your breath, love, as it all goes under.
Track Name: Toska
i know it's coming, but please when it comes let it not hurt too much
Track Name: The Lack of Shark
settling has never been my strongest suit. sections of your literature do not add up. i don't blame you for your fits of certainty but i will not be suckerpunched by debutantes.

i don't know.

every question is a little cancer cell. every option is a taunting question mark. nothing that you do can make a difference. action is a whisper in a hurricane.

i'm up to my gills with stilted sentiment. i won't be out-jesused by these do-gooders. i will not be frightened by the lack of shark.
Track Name: Vitamin C
we pore over and over the minutiae 'til the snowblindness kicks in. ballerina the line to the nth degree like a couple of rory calhouns. we collapse on ourselves like stars, tie ourselves to the mast for the final bars, 'til the sickener kicks in it's so, it's so, it's so so-so.

i've tried my very best to be good, to live my life like vitamin c would.

we corrupt up the dna, steel ourselves for the customary fiery blaze, so why still so amazed when it's so ohnoohnoohnoohno...

i've tried my very best to be good, to live my life like vitamin c would, but someone always seems to get hurt. it feels like we forgot the safeword.
Track Name: Tell Me I'm Okay
and we'll fly below radar, we'll stick to the backstreets and we'll keep our noses clean this time...

if you tell me i'm okay and you sell it like it's gospel, i'll believe every word you say, yeah, i'll swallow anything.

We'll wait for the low tide and skirt past the searchlights, a couple of lowlifes, making good.

If you tell me i'm okay, and you sell it like it's scripture, i'll believe every word you say: i'm prepared to act gullible.