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9. The Undertaker (2004)

by Tucker Booth and Helias

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    Conceived in 2005 these beats by Helias (aka Michael Schaefermeyer, R.I.P.) were supposed to be the original backdrop for 'Ex Boyfriend' an album not-so-loosely based on our recent break ups with our respective squeezes. Later, after a string of cop outs and near miss recording sessions I drunk dialed him one night and gave him a piece of my mind for 'hijacking my album.' Helias then proceeded to pull the plug on our project, give the beats away to my competitors, and declare Ex Boyfriend dead.

    About a month later Helias had a major computer meltdown and managed to lose all the wav files to the songs he had given away. He then went and ate the requisite amount of humble pie that accompanies telling everyone that the beats they had been given were unusable because there were no files to master them with.

    In the interim 932 producer/dj Splitface and I made the Ex Boyfriend album with beats Split made as an ode to the lost project. They can be listened to and purchased at www.tuckerbooth.bandcamp.com

    The Boyfriend beats were officially declared dead in 2006 and remained so until 2009 when J-Toth uncovered a long forgotten spool of wav file cds that included an early burn of what were now being called 'The Ex Files.' Much rejoicing ensued from St. Louis to Redondo Beach.

    In essence this is the sequel to Ex Boyfriend featuring the beats which originally inspired the album. Hence the sequel is the prequel.

    Sadly Helias passed away last May at age 31. ExFiles is made to honor Helias and the original Ex Boyfriend project we never got make long ago.
    ... more
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about

Delving directly into man's struggle with his own mortality this track examines the vices that lead artists to the brink of destruction. It also challenges those that seem to default back to past impressions of others, forever typecasting them in their darkest hours instead of trying to help save them from extinction.

lyrics

Bar Maid...Make it a Makers...
Gotta fend off those DT shakers...
Master the Game like the Lakers...
So I won't meet The Undertaker....
Bar Maid...Make it a Makers...
Gotta fend off those DT shakers...
Master the Game like the Lakers...
So I won't meet The Undertaker....

Nobody's ready for me....nobody ever will be...
That's why it's all down to these
moments that make me a slave or free...
So there's really only one way to be....
So I continue to be Trill...
Continuously 'ill' in the ebonics sense of the thing...
Like, 'N'ah Mean?'...
Draw things like conclusions and
I'm stealing your drawstrings...
Pants down, ass clown, wow! what an embarrassment!
Last time I saw him at the club
He got arrested for harassment...
And his girlfriend: poor thing....when everything soured...
I saw her in the Red Sea bathroom
taking a Mexican shower...
and she used to be such a sweet flower...
it is so damn fast how he devoured her
then gold showered her...what a cretin!
And his wizz was so butros cuz his girl was a vegan...
And you know how much the vegs love asparagus...
Hella hilarious...add in the opiates and
You could say the piss was copious...
Giving yeast infections to various phallopians...
Gleaming their tubes like Rubics Cubes...
Bringing back mustache rides
and under-landscaped pubes...like, I knew that dude!
He used to flow with me back in the day...
After a Lojic show...He was the damn DJ
and Tucker was their too...
drunk off some cheap chardonnay...
bumpin' his new mixtape he got from his boy Brent Barry
You guys were so messed up if I recall...off your gourds...
Torn to proverbial shreds...ridden hard and put away wet
Not even a damn hand towel for all the sweat...
Did you go to jail that night? Man, lost that bet...
Face it kid, back then it was the couch surfin' world circuit
Your bank account and your word was worthless...
And every night ended out in the street shirtless...
Neighbors callin' the cops
while peering out of their curtains...

Man, that's not me...
Really never was...
All that noise that you heard was some trumped up buzz!
That's not me, Man, not me anymore...
Forever typecast in 2004....
Man, that can't be me! Maybe someone else...
And if you think that's me...you better check yourself...
That's not me, Doc, not me anymore...
Forever typecast in the past....2004....

Those were some hot summer days...
Twat summer nights....
Hen, Alleze, Vics, Northern Lights...
Closing down bars and gettin' in fights...
Crusin' chiquitas in tights...
Senoritas on bikes...
Then wakin' up with 15 foot spikes
stuck in my chest like it was the sign of a good night...
Maybe the naysayers were right...
Back then I was more troglodyte than blinded by the light
But now it's 2010...not '04 no more...
Even if the 401ks of the world are unsure...like deodorant
They're all phallopian....
Fuck that shit...
Their stink is odious...

Bar Maid make it a Makers...
Gotta fend off those DT shakers...
Master the Game like the Lakers...
So I won't meet The Undertaker....
Bar Maid make it a Makers...
Gotta fend off those DT shakers...
Master the Game like the Lakers...
So I won't meet The Undertaker....

Man, that's not me...
Really never was....
And all the noise that you heard
was some hyped up buzz...
That's not me, Man...
Not me anymore...
Forever typecast in 2004...
Man, that can't be me!
Maybe someone else...
And if you think that's me
You better check yourself...
That's not me, Doc, not me anymore...
Forever typecast in the past 2004...

Forever typecast in the past 2004...
My 401k is hatin' on me like 2004...
The fuckin' media's suckin' like 2004...
Forever typecast, bitch, in 2004!

credits

released November 30, 2010
The Ex Files, written by Tucker Booth and Jonathan Toth from Hoth, Beats by Helias, Recorded and Arranged by J-Toth at The Cooler in St. Louis, MO for TheFrozenFoodSection.com.

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