Forget Who We Are

by Eichlers

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The songs on this release were written across a period of three years, leaving plenty of time to cringe at questionable lyrics and ultimately bite the bullet and record them anyway.

"Steven Tyler IV" is the oldest song on here, and "Gold Star" is the newest.

The album was recorded in the kitchen of my apartment on March 28, 2016 from 10am to 4:55pm.


released March 28, 2016



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Eichlers Salt Lake City, Utah

A band from Salt Lake City.

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Track Name: Winter Leave
Is it just me or is the world getting smaller? We had dreams of the summer and The Great Depression. My skyline hasn't changed in weeks, I've seen dimed out faces nickel deep. 85 short & I'm a day or so late.

Hey, wait up.

I'll see what I can't say and then make it all up. Those months returning to the places we'd just left. So the next time I write you, I hope you write back, 94118.

Hey, wait up.
Track Name: Steven Tyler IV
We didn't talk for so long, I didn't see you where we used to meet. Yeah there are things I'm scared of & days I wish I wasn't here.

Say it like your meanest, a sadist feigning genius. Say it like it's nothing.
Track Name: In Concord
40 years and 40 lives, seeing through someone else. Someone else's eyes meet mine. Just in time, I was losing my way. I'm sorry I lost it today.

You said that you could see the whole galaxy, stars burning as you spin. Divide in Concord, the places where we'd go. I'm pretty sure that you're just going home.
Track Name: School Life
Sleeptalking grabbed your hand. Dreams I couldn't wrap my arms around. Lining disappointing greens, eliciting groans from the golf crowd.

Mumbling something insincere like wondering who would play us in the movie of our lives.
Track Name: The Couch
Let's tunnel under city streets, wandering. I'm wondering if you're back home yet. Will our words still carry the same weight?

Faces you don't care to see, friendships fizzled out. Stay home every night this week & melt into the couch.

Over the counter, under the weather. We talked it all out & I don't feel better.
Track Name: Gold Star
White walls, the wide window pains. I walked to the street's end and turned back around. You can see a lot from where I'm parked, lying, idle (cliché).

Night shift ad nauseam, "welcome to your day." Anticipation pangs, a picture of a page. Blocking down, I block it out.

Clock out at 730/830/930/1030, just another day of getting off late. See the coming years pass before me, not a choice I thought I'd make.