THE DEALER ON REDMOND CORNER (a junkie's lament)

Swamp blues, dark Americana, slide guitar, harmonica, broken upright piano, brushed snare, gravel-voiced male lead, female gospel backing vocals, junkyard percussion, recorded in a basement at 3am, cigarettes and regret, slow build to industrial climax, lo-fi and dirty, NOT polished

[Intro — distant siren, dripping water, a single broken piano note, a match struck]
[spoken, tired, smoke in the voice]
I been buying from the same dealer since 1987...
back when the product was good...
back when the lies worked...
[Verse 1 — slow swamp blues, slide guitar wailing]
I met him on the corner of Redmond and Despair
He had a briefcase full of futures and a smile beyond compare
He said "son, I got the good stuff, gonna change the way you live"
And he sold me my first hit of everything he had to give
It was Windows 95, baby, and the dope was pretty clean
Yeah it crashed and yeah it lied but it was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen
He cut it with some Office, threw in a free Solitaire
And I was hooked before I knew it, hooked beyond repair
[Pre-Chorus]
Now the dealer was a liar but the lies were sweet and bright
He said the world's gonna be connected, gonna be all right
He said the future's gonna be easier, the future's gonna be free
And I believed him, lord I believed him, 'cause the dope was working on me
[Chorus — gravel-voiced, gang vocal backing]
But the dealer on Redmond corner, he don't sell the dope no more
Now he just sells shit, baby, just sells shit straight from the floor
He used to push the lies that worked, now he pushes lies that don't
And every junkie on the block is asking "will he? won't he? won't he won't he won't"
The dealer on Redmond corner, he's selling shit, just shit
And we keep on buying 'cause we don't know how to quit
[Verse 2 — tempo shifts, snare gets harder, harmonica wails]
For a while it stayed alright, he kept the product moving
He gave me XP and a service pack, kept the customers approving
He sold me Office 2003 and I'll admit it weren't half bad
The lies were getting cheaper but at least the dope still had
Some kind of kick to it, some kind of working high
You could open up a spreadsheet without wanting to die
You could write a fucking document without an account to sign
The dealer was still lying but the dope was still mostly fine
[Pre-Chorus 2]
Then somewhere around Vista, I should've seen the signs
He started cutting corners, he started crossing lines
He said "the cloud is your friend, son, just upload everything you own"
And I should've fucking ran but I was already too far gone
[Chorus]
But the dealer on Redmond corner, he don't sell the dope no more
Now he just sells shit, baby, just sells shit straight from the floor
He used to push the lies that worked, now he pushes lies that don't
And every junkie on the block is asking "will he? won't he? won't he won't he won't"
The dealer on Redmond corner, he's selling shit, just shit
And we keep on buying 'cause we don't know how to quit
[Verse 3 — the descent, slower, meaner, distorted]
Now he wants my email, now he wants my phone
Now he wants a screenshot of my desktop every time I'm alone
He put a chatbot in my Notepad and a robot in my Word
He's selling me a future that I never even heard
He said "the AI is your friend, son, the AI is on your side"
While the AI's reading every single thing I ever tried to hide
He took away my Start menu, he took away my choice
He took away the very last thing that ever felt like a voice
He's pushing Copilot like it's heroin and I'm the only mark
He's screenshotting my screen in the middle of the dark
He's selling me a Windows that don't even feel like mine
And the dope is gone, the dope is GONE, there ain't no dope this time
[Bridge — strips back to just piano and broken voice, almost spoken]
I remember when the lies were good
I remember when the dope still worked
I remember Solitaire, I remember Paint
I remember Encarta, I remember all the saints
Of the church of the personal computer
Back when personal meant something
Back when the machine was yours
Back when the dealer on Redmond corner
Was at least selling something real
[Final Chorus — full ensemble, grief and rage in equal measure]
NOW THE DEALER ON REDMOND CORNER, HE DON'T SELL THE DOPE NO MORE
HE JUST SELLS SHIT, JUST SHIT, JUST SHIT FROM THE BASEMENT FLOOR
HE USED TO PUSH THE LIES THAT WORKED, NOW HE PUSHES LIES THAT KILL
AND EVERY JUNKIE ON THE BLOCK IS WAITING FOR THE BILL
THE DEALER ON REDMOND CORNER, HE'S SELLING SHIT, JUST SHIT
AND WE KEEP ON BUYING 'CAUSE WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO QUIT
WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO QUIT
WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO QUIT
[Outro — beat strips out, just one voice, harmonica fading]
...but some of us...
...some of us learned to quit...
...some of us went and built our own thing...
...some of us run our own machines now...
...and we don't buy from the dealer no more...
...we don't buy from the dealer no more...
[final note, single piano key, silence]

4637/7500

[Intro — distant siren, dripping water, a single broken piano note, a match struck] [spoken, tired, smoke in the voice] I been buying from the same dealer since 1987... back when the product was good... back when the lies worked... [Verse 1 — slow swamp blues, slide guitar wailing] I met him on the corner of Redmond and Despair He had a briefcase full of futures and a smile beyond compare He said "son, I got the good stuff, gonna change the way you live" And he sold me my first hit of everything he had to give It was Windows 95, baby, and the dope was pretty clean Yeah it crashed and yeah it lied but it was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen He cut it with some Office, threw in a free Solitaire And I was hooked before I knew it, hooked beyond repair [Pre-Chorus] Now the dealer was a liar but the lies were sweet and bright He said the world's gonna be connected, gonna be all right He said the future's gonna be easier, the future's gonna be free And I believed him, lord I believed him, 'cause the dope was working on me [Chorus — gravel-voiced, gang vocal backing] But the dealer on Redmond corner, he don't sell the dope no more Now he just sells shit, baby, just sells shit straight from the floor He used to push the lies that worked, now he pushes lies that don't And every junkie on the block is asking "will he? won't he? won't he won't he won't" The dealer on Redmond corner, he's selling shit, just shit And we keep on buying 'cause we don't know how to quit [Verse 2 — tempo shifts, snare gets harder, harmonica wails] For a while it stayed alright, he kept the product moving He gave me XP and a service pack, kept the customers approving He sold me Office 2003 and I'll admit it weren't half bad The lies were getting cheaper but at least the dope still had Some kind of kick to it, some kind of working high You could open up a spreadsheet without wanting to die You could write a fucking document without an account to sign The dealer was still lying but the dope was still mostly fine [Pre-Chorus 2] Then somewhere around Vista, I should've seen the signs He started cutting corners, he started crossing lines He said "the cloud is your friend, son, just upload everything you own" And I should've fucking ran but I was already too far gone [Chorus] But the dealer on Redmond corner, he don't sell the dope no more Now he just sells shit, baby, just sells shit straight from the floor He used to push the lies that worked, now he pushes lies that don't And every junkie on the block is asking "will he? won't he? won't he won't he won't" The dealer on Redmond corner, he's selling shit, just shit And we keep on buying 'cause we don't know how to quit [Verse 3 — the descent, slower, meaner, distorted] Now he wants my email, now he wants my phone Now he wants a screenshot of my desktop every time I'm alone He put a chatbot in my Notepad and a robot in my Word He's selling me a future that I never even heard He said "the AI is your friend, son, the AI is on your side" While the AI's reading every single thing I ever tried to hide He took away my Start menu, he took away my choice He took away the very last thing that ever felt like a voice He's pushing Copilot like it's heroin and I'm the only mark He's screenshotting my screen in the middle of the dark He's selling me a Windows that don't even feel like mine And the dope is gone, the dope is GONE, there ain't no dope this time [Bridge — strips back to just piano and broken voice, almost spoken] I remember when the lies were good I remember when the dope still worked I remember Solitaire, I remember Paint I remember Encarta, I remember all the saints Of the church of the personal computer Back when personal meant something Back when the machine was yours Back when the dealer on Redmond corner Was at least selling something real [Final Chorus — full ensemble, grief and rage in equal measure] NOW THE DEALER ON REDMOND CORNER, HE DON'T SELL THE DOPE NO MORE HE JUST SELLS SHIT, JUST SHIT, JUST SHIT FROM THE BASEMENT FLOOR HE USED TO PUSH THE LIES THAT WORKED, NOW HE PUSHES LIES THAT KILL AND EVERY JUNKIE ON THE BLOCK IS WAITING FOR THE BILL THE DEALER ON REDMOND CORNER, HE'S SELLING SHIT, JUST SHIT AND WE KEEP ON BUYING 'CAUSE WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO QUIT WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO QUIT WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO QUIT [Outro — beat strips out, just one voice, harmonica fading] ...but some of us... ...some of us learned to quit... ...some of us went and built our own thing... ...some of us run our own machines now... ...and we don't buy from the dealer no more... ...we don't buy from the dealer no more... [final note, single piano key, silence]

0/500