Discography 1994​-​1995

by Portraits Of Past

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Discography 1994-1995.
Full-length; 7"; comp track; and live set.


released June 23, 2008

All music by Portraits of Past.
CD Discography released on Ebullition records.



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Portraits Of Past San Francisco, California

Matthew Bajda
Jeremy Bringetto
Jonah Buffa
Robert Pettersen
Rex Shelverton

Who Calls So Loud
The Vue
Funeral Diner
... more

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Track Name: KQED Equals Volvo
A little closer to home one – who’s distant. A sick look glazed over my repression. Humbly I’m dismissed with no warning. Momentary this bliss. You can see the look on my face. Say, nothing’s said. I wish you’d fight me ‘til the last teardrop’s bled. Momentary this bliss. I can see the look on your face, and I just can’t wait.
Track Name: Bang Yer Head
Lower the voice and be recognized. I, of course, see no reason to reply. Give me my just desserts give me my recognition, that proof. Remain closed all of those who dare to remain unchanged by your words. Pull back the hammer and take aim. And shoot yourself in the foot, shoot everyone else in the foot. Rid us of all meaning. The credit seems to be all yours. And you’re sure of your strength once more (and all could be dismissed with: “whatever, it’s cool” and you could argue that it must be good or violent or irrelevant, but it isn’t really any of those, and I guess I hate that attitude more than anything).
Don’t shoot, don’t show. Push harder the plastic fork shards under my nails. Things don’t turn out like this even in our wildest dreams. What exactly is that smile? What is that smile on your face supposed to mean? “We both know I’ve got those thoughts and words too, but I guess I don’t give them enough use.”
[one]: Go back where you came from, I don’t care, please go right now!
[other]: I wish I could but I seem to have forgotten how.
There are a few truths, and here’s just one: I’m as fucked up about as much as you’re fucked up. But beyond that there are only grasped straws and our own private/petty perceived flaws. Where’s that gun? We should both use it. Doomed from the start. Committed to failure. Simply mirrors all? Rejected selves live to fall.
Track Name: The Outlook Is Bleak
Blackened nothings whispered. I want this dead; there’s no more to say. I’ve found myself lacking in all but a few necessary motives. Fastened to whitewashed terms. Polish made new fortitude’s scorn. Polished what was. Polished that voting machine. My own private bureaucratism. False sense of security false sense of self gives you ammunition. Cold minds never feel the width of separation. Cool mines refill from seizures torn today.
Track Name: The Control Freak
Into the retrofit past – turn the corner. The voice in my head barks its selfless orders and the nylon leash gets a little shorter and I wonder who the invisible bondsman is. Over shoulder, checking to see if anyone is watching, waiting for the struggle that won’t come. Against the bonds of what I cannot do, what I cannot shows, what I cannot lose. And I know that I will remain shut in, because the metal door is locked from the inside. Its just me and myself against the world. Its just a flat out refusal. And so my superiority and privilege lies dashed to pieces on the cold, stone floor, mixed with the horrific runoff from what is no longer my freedom my violence my laziness my fucked freedom mine. That freedom which so many love. The freedom I choose to pursue no more. And I see how perverse that freedom is. The fists and blood money stay in my hip pockets. And I show that my hands aren’t inherently violent. And I realize how beautiful these chinese handcuffs are.
Track Name: Implications Of A Sinkhole Personality
Standing there with your ethics. You’re just standing there. Standing there mouth agape. Your ethics like a rewound tape. Where were you when you became this? Shocked individual with self-assured face. Do you understand that look in your eyes? Conscious of reality buried under your glue on morals, nervous system strung out on self-service. But raised eyebrows don’t seem to make it better. My raised eyebrows. See yourself in others. Be yourself through others. Hate yourself in others. Kill yourself in others. My fingers are so pointed, though.
Track Name: Snicker Snicker
I hate to say it, but I had no idea what this would become. Lulled to sleep. It always works that way. Bullets in control – watch out for your uniform in control – watch out for those stray bullets. Tongue tied – those outside define everything. High beams- my dark side is everything. No wonder high use of black plastic eye shields. No one leaves the house without a Kevlar skin suit. Let’s not pretend any longer. A weapon, an open grave, our desire. Or maybe a simple little glance. Whose eyes are glued to your head? And we keep saying fuck you and they keep right on looking, but I won’t say one word. No. I won’t say one fucking word.
Track Name: Something Less Than Intended
Remember those ideals, remember mom and dad? We’re them. Remember carefree friendship, oh those great times. Living like the stars, just playing with our hearts, how cute. Predestined predestined I’m predestined. Let’s play scapegoat, let’s play martyr. Pretty intention. Let’s be living dead. OK, I’m going to fuck you over now. It’s like I’m living someone else’s life. OK, I’m going to fuck you over now, but I know I’m not “them.” Flashy packaging leads me to believe in the novelty of my own being. Evolving into enemy into trash into self. Look at this hand, would I hurt someone? The tongue will brand, regardless. Looking in the mirror, I’d trust that face. Pausing for reflection, you’d be a fool to. Remember please lost memory too bad.
Track Name: Sticks Together
This is where it all began. Through myself is how I built my own. Right here is where I became alive. Why didn’t you do the same? Go ahead and tell me that “we are so different from each other.” Come on, tell me how you’ll never understand. Keep showing me just how little you believe, but don’t count on me to give a damn. Your potential outweighs your will, but you can’t be blamed. Convention is responsible for that. Still, I wish I could do something. This is what I did for myself. Please don’t say that you couldn’t do the same. Think how much you could have achieved, if only you had tried. It’s time that you made the change that we all must. Because you know right where you’re heading. And now is your chance to make sense of everything. Why don’t you make that break? I know you don’t want to play the sentimental fool. And you can hide the truth from yourself. But no matter what you say, I’ll be right here.
Track Name: Song With The Slow Part
This is what is. This is really important. This is what is. This is useless. I’m wasting my time. I’m wasting myself. I won’t bleed for nothing, because to me this is something. I won’t turn myself inside out for your pleasure. And I don’t want this just to be background noise. This is something. This is what runs in my veins. I put a lot into this. I get a lot out. Out of myself – out of what I do. I live for this.
Track Name: Journeyman
It's hard to believe the end has come. I won't say I'm not apprehensive about telling you everything. This will be my work. I’ve condemed myself. Let's not flatter ourselves - we're only as good as our trends permit. I've been so fucking critical, but tell me who hasn't? You have no idea what you were to me. Now you've left these shoes to fill, and they're so stiff. It's hard to start anew.
Track Name: A Known Place
Are you alive or are you dead? Do you know what the fuck you are? I don't know what's going on. I don't know who I really am. Whoever knows what they are, knows nothing at all. We all have one thing in common - nothing. But you know one thing for sure - your fucking place. What's your race. What's your sex. What's your rank. What's your fucking serial number. What are you? Am I right or wrong? Not properly defined, am I alive or am I dead?