Rooted Feral

by Rookie Town

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Start figuring things out. Stop spying on the neighbors.


released August 2, 2014

Recorded/engineered by Scott Goodrich in the state of California. Too many people live there. Fix this problem.

Ahren Lanfor recorded some additional vocals in Tacoma, Washington. My inability to sing is a cosmic joke. Time to go cry.



all rights reserved


Rookie Town Bellingham, Washington

Terrible band in need of old time redemption. Handle with a modicum of care; results will vary. Might want to avoid listening all together. Go for a walk. Did that girl just smile at you? Pursue that. She may be the one. Does she like dogs? Good, good. You're in. Don't screw this up. Recalibrate. Breathe. You can do this. I mean, like, internal breaths. You're breathing out loud in an odd way. ... more

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Track Name: Five Months, Five Days
I know you, I knew you
Now the song and the air run right into a swell
And it rings out: “There’s a quiet here, I just need to close my body down—rest where old refrain meets the sound”
And hold (the place holding the notes you’ll always know) back everything
It starts with your veins, and not a vision—framed—just waiting for you
Brush aside the paints that shake you
Green hues near unspeakable are at my door
Shades of comfort fill my world
Now leave me here
(All praise be to Stipe)
Track Name: Forever Pageantry
Cover me in the pines I’ve always scraped—the soil that can’t recede
The wind will ease the forestry in cadence with me
(I’m still very scared for me)
Everything I’ve known keeps
with everything
I believe in coyotes that meet night breeze and scamper on, snout scraping the earth
I could never leave the smell of the dirt and the notes that resound against the bark of the trees
(Ethereal chant signaling Mother
Flora’s unwavering indebtedness to Rookie Town)
Like sap I’ll find my calling in a lull
(Rookie Town echoing Mother Flora’s gratitude—an indication of mutual understanding and respect)
My fields will wake the same—regardless of the clouds
The lull remains—give me no way out
I still believe
I still believe in coyotes that meet night breeze, scamper on, snouts scraping the earth
I still believe in…
(Unversed in what it means to be held by anything beyond the grass that waves me home)
I still believe in everything I’ve
ever known
And my world is scaled smaller, but scaled nonetheless
I’m nonetheless
(I still believe)
(All praise be to Stipe)
Track Name: Old Forest Floors
My words are returning—they were sent away to some distant plane and then uncovered again
If this place is merely scattered in my head then I’ll recall: “Nothing is rising”
I swear to G-d: “Nothing is sinking”
If nothing is rising, I can speak in
echoes aimed firmly at foot but meant for the ground
Yet I just shrug and submit that: “Nothing is rising”
I’ve watched you wilt into countless earthy shades of grey
Washed away in a flood that never cedes to a voice that can’t delineate our divergent geographies
And your words won’t stop sinking
Your roots can’t demand a thing when caught in topsoil’s embrace
And if you find yourself buoyed by the sun’s morning gaze—then I remind you: “Nothing is rising”
Conflicted by breathing—I can only blame me
Conflicted by breathing—maybe one day I can forget the feeling
I can’t forego the feeling you’re adrift with leafy remnants I never could grasp
The feeling remains: nothing is rising, nothing is rising
Savage the trees and see what remains
Flora rejects what your downpour sustains
“Nothing is rising”—a tattered refrain
Nothing is rising, nothing is rising
Track Name: Dandelion Courage
There’s a calming feral drive in me illustrating every new day with soft embedded grasp that leaves me
In a home so far removed from your concrete-laden night—that endless splash of light
That etches the sky where you live in such vivid traces of vacant
Now see with eyes refocused on anything other than this
Keep me slow—focused on the inside—forego the outside
I need slow
(An imploration to dance)
I feel landlocked in the best way—bereft of misstep inherent in that city by the sea
And that splash of light you chase
You precipitate bad company
There’s a calm inside that you will never place—where native landmarks beat back static iconography and that shrill, piercing light you claim
You precipitate bad company
And I can wait, I can wait, I can wait another quarter century swept through a blemished, modest tapestry
A depiction of unburdened, lonely country
For myself
Of all the things I could’ve wrest from earth, seclusion—rested, slowing—holds most worth
And I’ve said it before: oh, it holds me
This feral calming drive in me keeps me landlocked
I feel comfort, and it’s holding—a
gust so quiet in accordance with a rising never leaving, as it soothes me, as it keeps me landlocked
Track Name: Tree-ish Thing
I hear that the wind says: “There’s something to be said for journeying back to that grove where you started”
You know that I’ve rarely glimpsed the desert with an objective lens
Because wasteland carries the air of digression to me
And while greenness may hold me, one day I might breathe free
Provided the rain can’t wash us all away, I’ll cut through the days keeping my lungs at bay
And welcome the space that separates us
We were never the same
I find comfort when I say: “We’ll never grow the same”
Let me be the borderlands
We’re branches joined errantly—we were never the same
I’ll carve out a home in every place that spurns your name
I’ll broaden my gaze with sundry views and witness new terrains
Provided the rain can’t wash us all away, I’ll cut the days keeping my lungs at bay
I’m given away to that awkward feeling that charts a path through eastern heights and valley depths
I wanna see your plains in disrepair and honest light
And full of life
In honest light
Provided the rain