Petrichor (2016)

by Young Fantom

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    Physical album featuring artwork by Young Fantom and photography by Robert Bellow of Vicarious Media/Juggernaut Productions LLC. Signed by artist if requested. Will ship the day of order placement if ordered before 2:00 pm, next day if after. FREE SHIPPING WITH PURCHASE.

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     $3 USD

     

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about

Though they are separated by two official releases and a smattering of singles, make no mistake, what you see here is the spiritual successor to The Storm Before The Reign. Beyond the thematically similar precipitation-based names, the two share themes of introspection and doubt with undertones ranging from frustrated to uncertain to outright panicked. Subject matter jumps from betrayal ("For Those Left Behind") to anxiety disorders ("Fractures 2 Breaks"), the state of society ("Free") to the state of hip-hop itself ("Unsettled/Restless") rapidly and haphazardly. Some songs even serve as more a live journal entry than a focused track with a designated direction or purpose.

Instrumentally I once again provide the majority of the production (as was the case with Autonomous). Awkword P once again lends his classic hip-hop style to two tracks ("Me & My Demons" and "No Denying") and new collaborator NewLife contributes a trilogy of chorus-less trunk rattlers ("Bartime I, II, & III") along with one of the records deeper and more reflective tracks ("Triumphs/Tragedies"). For my part I tried to keep the production largely melodic while retaining a hip-hop flavor, pairing pianos and bright synths with grittier, more driven percussion.

Fans of Autonomous should enjoy the wordplay and production, which feel like a natural progression, while fans of my older work will get to hear the return of my more emotionally driven content, which was admittedly uncharacteristically sparse throughout my last release. Lyrically, instrumentally, and sonically I consider this to be far and away my best work. The cloud cover's back, and there's something calming about it. I give you: Petrichor.

- YF

credits

released May 31, 2016

Tracks 4 and 10 produced by Sean "Awkword P" Stephens
Tracks 6-8, 11 produced by Dan "NewLife" Hargrove
Additional writing and vocals on track 4 by Pete "Copywrite" Nelson
Copywrite appears courtesy of Public School Records
Additional writing and vocals on track 10 by Rick "imperfekt" Noggle
imperfekt appears courtesy of Mic Hand Recordings

tags

license

Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.
Track Name: Fractures 2 Breaks
I can't breathe from underneath
All this weight atop of me
And with every step I take
Fractures slowly turn to breaks

I'm on a match-lit mission through a path of gas
I'm like elastic getting stretched past the max
so when I snap it's coming back lashing fast
Call it my last ditch effort 'cause I'm apt to crash
And in the aftermath and the ashes
we can add this one to a rash of past hits
In fact it's a pattern that I've had since I practically
asphyxiated when the first attack hit
Like a mime trapped in glass it's
an invisible prison so you just keep on laughing
But I'm gasping for help, can't seem to ask it
So you assume the silence is a part of the act
But actually I'm past trying to wrap this madness
in a rational package but the fact is the blackness
Hangs over me every night, ready to latch its
fucking hooks in and drain me. How's that for batshit?

(chorus)
I can't breathe from underneath
- It's hard to draw breath, unrest in the depths of my chest with
All this weight atop of me
- On my chest and shoulders, my resolve at its best just smolders,
- I'm folding and
And with every breath I take
- Coming in shallow and sharp until my vision starts
- filling in dark killing my heart these
fractures slowly turn to breaks
- 'Til my back can't hold up, 'til I snap, crack, and fold up

It's hard to stay sane my chest is full of this pain like
now everything is balanced on the blade of that same knife
that left me sort of mangled when I sliced my veins right
open sort of hoping I could cope with that pain, right?
And ain't life funny, the second you think
You've got your key to happiness and all the rest will just clink
right into place like it's supposed to, take a breath and you blink
and the death of you is back to take the rest of you
Sink into the destitute thoughts, the mess that you thought were forgotten
Pressing you softly into your coffin, knotting
up your stomach tighter than a step that you missed
fucking suffocating like a pillow pressed to your lips
This depression is pressing my chest, compressing and lessening breaths
and second by second a little less of my essence is left
So these screams that I stifle at night
are 'cause every night I fight for my life and it's kind of like...

(chorus)
I can't breathe from underneath
- It's hard to draw breath, unrest in the depths of my chest with
All this weight atop of me
- On my chest and shoulders, my resolve at its best just smolders,
- I'm folding and
And with every breath I take
- Coming in shallow and sharp until my vision starts
- filling in dark killing my heart these
fractures slowly turn to breaks
- 'Til my back can't hold up, 'til I snap, crack, and fold up
Track Name: Unsettled/Restless
Let me clear up this shit from the start
I'm at my best when I spit from the heart
So fuck what you say 'bout my lip and my scars
You give me a rapper, I'll rip him apart
Maybe bartending was calling my card
Stirring shit up while I polish the bars
Ironically never had trouble performing
in front of you dicks that just wanna be hard
So go make your hits
But know that going viral doesn't make you sick
If you wanna you can go ahead and hate my shit
I guess when you get him rattled then a snake will hiss
I never saw the point of trying to fall into
parameters at all if it'd deviate the passion
I never saw the point of picking everyone apart
or being petty to the point of getting bothered over fashion
So here's a little info:
fuck you all like a nympho
I've got bars and a blow to the chin flow
Man I'll mar your world (Mario World) like Nintendo
See how far in the world that I can go
Before I take leave like when the wind blows
When I tame my brain to the tempo
and I frame my pain like a window
I get lethal like a double shot of cyanide
delivered like an uppercut delivered to your jawline
With the pen I spar, right? Talk about a bar fight
Going bats on a dark night, hit the callsign
I'm never gonna ease up and that's clear
something like a meteor rocketing through the atmosphere
'Cause every entry is fire
With syllable tighter than ten-speed attire
I'm

(chorus)
I'm unsettled and restless
Got a head full of deathwish
'Bout to get up on my next shit
Settle on a setlist and wreck this
I guess it's just that...
I'm unsettled and restless
Got a head full of deathwish
'Bout to get up on my next shit
Settle on a setlist and wreck this

I'm just exacerbating my agitation
With every crafted statement I can sense my path is changing
It's sad to say but we're past the stages of rats in cages
My entire bio is warfare like gaseous agents
And we're a little past orange I warned you
Past sane that's a theory that I formed before ya
'Cause it's all in my mind I spent too much time
stressing about my faults and lines like California
I live for the mic but the shit that comes with it
I feel like it's nothing but stress
So when I came I came with some bitterness
came with some vengeance like fucking your ex
Turn the words to a turn of phrase, I heard the game
was a trip so I learned to play
I'd write rhymes 'til the nighttime turned to day
Blood, sweat, tears, I'd say that I earned my stay
Got a competitive element to the way that I'm telling it
telling you hell if I'mma set it aside
Put my soul in the syllables that I'm selling so hell
if I'm gonna stop until I'm top 5 dead or alive and
You better believe I'm the truth
I'm a bigger paradox (pair of Docs) than 90s boots
Got a heart full of love and a head full of anger
Never been social, they're calling me stranger
Than them, but why pretend
Man they wouldn't cross me if I died for sins
Bet I'll body the whole squad I can rhyme for ten
This motherfucker's been solo (Ben Solo) like Kylo Ren

(chorus)
I'm unsettled and restless
Got a head full of deathwish
'Bout to get up on my next shit
Settle on a setlist and wreck this
I guess it's just that...
I'm unsettled and restless
Got a head full of deathwish
'Bout to get up on my next shit
Settle on a setlist and wreck this
Track Name: For Those Left Behind
See everybody needs a team to see them through this wicked life
But your right hand is more than close enough to slip a knife
These bright and friendlies full of light are like florescents twisted tight
Their friendly glow is artificial 'til it shatters. Hit the lights
And truthfully I never learned it youthfully
Allowed myself to surround myself with clowns that had a use for me
And when it proved to be my turn to face the music these
same fools became elusive "poof" and had no more to do with me
And that's the way I built this guard up, now you're hard up
to see me approach the table until I see you hold your cards up
I don't need more wildcards so show me that's it's straight and flush
my house is full enough without some jokers trying to shake things up
And I'm so past the way we have to play this blasted game
Where everyone disguises their true faces like some masquerade
I'm keeping Eyes Wide, Shutting down the mystery
til you're all like high school textbooks: fake as fuck excuse for history

(chorus)
For those left behind
Past mistakes of mine
Know that you have served your purpose
There's no better time
Break and sever ties
Cut the weight so I can surface

So consider this an open letter warning that I'm cold as ever
'cause when I get into hot water my circle shrinks like cotton-woven sweaters
And those that know me better know I'd never go and leave
anybody I know out in the cold without more than sufficient reason
So I guess it's open season and everybody's hunting something I know
If it's one for the road or the bucks and the dough
I'm just trying to get my ducks in a row
And it sucks that I know the people claiming we're as thick as thickness is
When shit gets wicked then these bitches disappear like witnesses
The gist is this: my friends aren't friends if fun's their only purpose
When the drinks are flowing it's easy to think it's going great and perfect
Until that party's over, turn it down like hotel service
Act is over, people stop responding to their lines it's curtains
So there's less than 10 I'd count as friends and I fully trust like 5 of those
And there's only 3 or 4 that I'll have around me when my eyes are closed
Now I'm getting cross in lines because you're crossin' lines I wrote
in sand when this relationship set sail before you rocked the boat

(chorus)
For those left behind
Past mistakes of mine
Know that you have served your purpose
There's no better time
Break and sever ties
Cut the weight so I can surface

(bridge)
I had this dream where all of you surrounded me
The smirks upon your faces still so vivid it astounded me
After all I've conquered should have known you'd still look down on me
Or maybe you're recalling fondly all that you've drained out of me
But that snarl gave me life the one that once was drowning me
In my dream it sparked a thought that seemed somewhat profound to me
If I had a door that led back to before you turned around on me
and I had 10 seconds to make that choice I'd fucking burn it down in three

(chorus)
For those left behind
Past mistakes of mine
Know that you have served your purpose
There's no better time
Break and sever ties
Cut the weight so I can surface
Track Name: Drunk Boxing (Bartime I)
Fuck modesty, I’ll turn battle rappers to rattled rappers
and kill 'em on tracks like cattle catchers, matter fact
it’s like these vinyl scratches are signifying the final chapter
When I snap back like a spinal fracture or chiropractor
It's kinda backwards I use this gift of mine
To go tearing through the rappers like its Christmas time
So if you're present get ready to get rattled around a bit
‘cause I'm the type to shake it up pondering all the sounds of it
I'm a slave to the patterned tones
Pulls something from my caves and catacombs
It's hot rage in shockwaves to shatter bones
when I get live like dropped ‘nades in battle zones
All your bullet talk seems like a hollow point
I’mma make you draw a blank, watch me
The way that all these punches are flying over your head
I swear I'm bout to call this shit drunk boxing
I’ll be mixing art rhymes with hard times
Times the spark the heart finds in dark minds
A far cry from marked, signed and chart climbed
A light in darkness signaling that it's bar time
I'm quick wit for slit wrist
Misfits with lit wicks and nic’ fits
Flip the switch get lit quick as Bics, shit
Battering the mix like a whisk through bisquick
I guess I'm something like a head case
My legs ache from carrying all the dead weight
But I can't pay the steep tolls the meds take
’til my neck breaks Im battling through the dead space
At my core I'm half-bored with rap form
Packed with more half formed crap than app stores
But that scorn is actually what I'm back for
Bringing back the repartee to call it rapport
But the attitude that half of you have to music
has got a dude thinking that he's a zero ’til he's got a few
added to his statement, but the statement I'm making
is that the balance I'm after isn't the one you give the power to
Am I hopeless cuz I focus on rhymes spoken
in time instead of promoting dope, toting a nine
I'm opening minds, absorb and apply and hope it aligns
not joking my lines are like the guy with fucked up hair the way I'm ending the weak
I’m the M to the C they're pretending to be
You can see the way they tremble when I enter the ring
They fucked around and left a carnivore to tend to the sheep
So when I put the pen to the sheet
And start preying on you bitches like I'm bending the knee
I’ll cross you off like a to do list, agenda complete
If they wanna bring the beef in the pen with the beast, c’mon
Track Name: Consciousness (Bartime II)
I just threw away my refills, deleted all my e-mails
from family without examining so I could sleep well.
Been neglecting my reality to drown in inkwells.
I'm standing on the ocean shore listening to seashells
to guide me from this labyrinth I wove into the fabric
I stress over, obsess over, but I'm missing over half of it.
Am I a cataclysm waiting on a catalyst
or just a hollow body helping balance out the abacus?
Counting out the callouses I've earned from paving my own way
and carving my own niche and digging my own grave
'cause when I'm lost there isn't one of you cold get me home;
only one I follow anymore's the fucking metronome.
And all that's set in stone and guaranteed is whiplash
as I switch tracks from turbulent to calm and then just switch back
'cause one moment no warning I'll go from being alright
to gone, off the rails like a college kid on bar night.
Internal turmoil is turning me nocturnal
'cause I can't escape this maze 'til I examine every kernel
of denial and anxiety, trials that have mired me
ironic that I need that hail mary 'cause I'm spiraling already.
Five seconds of the fourth quarter gotta make it work,
going for it on the third but I need a second first.
So my lines stay defensive, looking for my zen again
but there's a couple things that keep me pumping that adrenaline:
like wondering if I should lock my door more
Half you only wanna kick it when there's shots to pour, or
half the crowds that come on down to shows and say they feel it
missed my hell in 2012 when I was keeping it the realest.
They're all about the one line punchlines, fun times
I've always been the one to take the thunder over sunshine.
Would I be risking fans by saying when I started rappin'
never meant to be the shit that shit just happened?
Yo, let's set the record straight, I know I've gotta learn a bit
but honestly I feel like when I'm on a beat I murder it.
"But his lyrics aren't that versatile, to personal to turn a hit.
He's to damn emotional." well shit, I've come to terms with it.
And I'll never drop the stupid "Young" from my rap name.
I chose it so I'd fit in now I can't ditch it for that same reason.
I'm more than over following trends
just keeping up these soliloquies 'til it hollows my pen.
Yeah, let me draw it again:
Just keeping up these soliloquies 'til it hollows my pen.
Down on my luck and it's killing me like I'm callin' roulette.
Don't give a fuck if you're feeling me, I'm just scrawling to vent.
Track Name: House Of Mirrors (Bartime III)
These are universal notes manipulated to the strangest chords
While you're in this house of mirrors trying to count your paces or
Retrace your steps cuz you can't face the fact you've been this way before
Taken through the darkest bit of deja vu like Jason Bourne
I bring the darkness with me every time I rip the beat
Maybe that's the reason that the spotlight never sticks to me
Don't know if I'm heaven-sent and going down in history
or going down in present tense from all these demons grips on me
Grabbing at my wrists and knees, wishing we could end this war
It's like nothing's love so love means nothing like a tennis court
And it's my job to keep a handle on the racket
And just keep swinging like a candle in the bracket
’til my fire is a fixture I’m adding to the mixture
The words that I concoct are all that act as an elixir
That take the voices in my head and dull them to a whisper
With every brush with death I'll paint the pictures
But Between the darker undertones and all the shades of all my days
It's hard for me to draw the lines in ways that form familiar shapes
It's all kaleidoscopes desires hope and folly
like deciphering the wits of Dali times some hits of Mali
the bits are falling like ashes from the peaks of Ecuador
turning things to grey and doom to compliment the metaphor
I’m trying to find a balance between who I used to be
And future me, cuz both have proven useful, I mean truthfully
By the moon I'm introspective, in the sun I'm hopeful now
neither can compare, to that rarity when both come out
the time of the eclipse is one that speaks a lot to me
When we see the beauty in the darkness and the oddity
Whatever's wrong with me is still hanging right there
Always over my shoulder dangling the night terrors
My own mind can do me dirtier than mud wrestles
Bawl (ball) so hard I burst a motherfucking blood vessel
Track Name: Petrichor
I've severed several unsavory ties
seeking a simpler way to be, I've
seen all the sorrow displayed in these eyes;
same as the shade of the grey in these skies
Seen the strain in the gait of the wise,
feeling a pain like a blade in each side.
Whatever that saying, "no pain or no gain"
is so plain in the way I create a design.
'Til the day that the pain inside came alive
the same day the bravery died
I was just trying to vent out the flames in my lungs,
One scream away from insane asylums.
We sung songs of the war we waged
to the snare drum roll of that pouring rain
and that set of chords resurrects the storm
'til these metaphors taste like petrichor

(chorus)
A pattern so perfect you could dance to the sound
The rhythm of falling all the way to the ground
You kept moving down you could have just turned around instead

If silence is golden then I'm fucking worthless.
All of my words tend to climb to the surface,
vines from the earth so silent in purpose
'til they burst through so violent and urgent.
It's like the blinds and the curtains were sewn tight,
losing my mind in the tricks of the low light.
It brings something alive in my bones like
half of these lines I feel that I don't write.
They're just words that I'm rattling to fill a set.
I'm just recounting all the shadows and the silhouettes.
It's like a drug and I'm battling the real effects,
getting apathetic and I haven't had a bit of rest.
'Cause every time that I close my eyes
and I try inside of my hectic core
this set of chords resurrects the storm
'til these metaphors taste like petrichor.

(chorus)
A pattern so perfect you could dance to the sound
The rhythm of falling all the way to the ground
You kept moving down you could have just turned around instead

I had a vision of a cataclysm and a padded prison
shattered prism scattering shadows over a canvas.
Thought I ought to follow along
swallowed a bottle of volatile 'til I started scrawling all over my handprints
Unsigned, confined, blunt, violent mind.
Punchline-drunk times punk, never tongue-tied
One time for the young minds on the front lines
stuck at 9-to-5s writing rhymes on their lunchtimes.
Comfortable under the thunder, numb skies
in the aftermath of the laughs and fun times.
'Til the light on the horizon dies,
a child of this rap shit, watch the son (sun) rise.
But when it comes to the summer sunshine
sometimes I just feel less is more
so that set of chords resurrects the storm
'til these metaphors taste like petrichor

(chorus)
A pattern so perfect you could dance to the sound
The rhythm of falling all the way to the ground
You kept moving down you could have just turned around instead

A pattern so perfect you could dance to the sound
The rhythm of falling all the way to the ground
You kept moving down you could have just turned around instead