Degenerate Art

by Hershel's Head

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Degenerate Art was recorded in several locations throughout the Autumn of 2015.

Hershel's Head would like to thank:
Chris Hattie, Chelsea Cochrane, Matt Young, Ronnie Reffin, James Bailey @ Silver Zephyr Media, Jessica Newell, 7 West Studios, Berkley Studios, Empire Studios, Harris Douglas @ HD Music, Chris and Craig @ DF Concerts, Bar Bloc, Nice N Sleazys, King Tut's Wah Wah Hut, Daniel Copithorn, Cal Cassidy Reid, Ciara and Robbie Cunningham, Gareth Jones , Jason Small @ Local Music Scene Blog, Pins And Knuckles Merchandise, Bad Sign, F.O.E.S, Megalomatic, Max Raptor, Mountains Under Oceans, Akord, Fizzy Blood, Atlas : Empire and everyone that has come to see us live or listened to our music.

Hershel's Head would also like to thank all our friends and loved ones who have consistently supported us over the last two years.

credits

released May 27, 2016

Hershel's Head are: Andrew Bayne, Derek Boyle, Fraser McGowan

Music by Hershel's Head
Lyrics by Andrew Bayne
Recorded, mixed and mastered by Chris Hattie.
Logo by Matt Young @ Matt Young Design And Illustration
Photography and artwork by Chelsea Cochrane
Live Photo by Ronnie Reffin @ Clickandpray Photography

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about

Hershel's Head Glasgow, UK

Hershel’s Head are a three piece band from Glasgow, Scotland, comprising Andrew Bayne (guitar/vocals), Derek Boyle (bass) and Fraser McGowan (drums). The three met initially whilst studying at UWS in Ayr before going their separate ways upon graduating. Finding themselves living in Glasgow in late 2013, the three started playing music together, officially forming Hershel’s Head in February 2014. ... more

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Track Name: Rosenberg
Come and take a little bite of my hook and I'll reel you in.
Isn't this the way that we were supposed to be?
The final feast for you.

We won't leave a trace in this arms race, cross the line.
You digitize your life and replace it with a sign, redefine.

Today is not your day to put me in my grave,
I've ripped off all my names to come back crawling once again.
Try to understand it wasn't in my plan, but who are you to say?

You are just a little piggy in a suit, so roll in your mud.
Leaving all the last scraps to feed the rats, and your pockets are full.

I've got a real bad feeling of what's to come,
My time is slipping slowly,
What have I become?
I've got a real bad feeling of what's to come,
My time is slipping slowly,
What have I done?

Take me away from this strange place,
Until they come our way and rip out all our throats.
You will be forgotten, your existence gone
Who are you to say? You are Rosenberg.
Track Name: Degenerate Art
I gotta let you know, I think I've lost my self control.
I've nothing left to show, I think I'm scraping at the bowl.

I don't know anymore if this is what I'm meant to do.
All of the words are used and none of these thoughts are new.
How the hell can you tell that our ship is ready to sail?
Who knows where we will go or what we will see tomorrow?

Let's set the world on fire, and let the flames burn higher.

This is what we live for, not to grow too old, or sell our love for gold.
Shake it in a shiver flowing from your bones, but I won't feel the cold.

We've got to live in this life to the full, but maybe I'm just a fool
And if I am then you are too.
Track Name: Deathclock
I see you and all you do
If only you'd see through me

Time made the fool out of you, but you made the fool out of me

A stones throw, blow by blow, here we go

I want it.
I crave it.
Stroke my skin and let's begin.

The taste of blood is on my tongue
I've chewed my lips, all torn to bits
Lie all alone, holding my bones
My greatest fear, is that you're here
Track Name: Sad Lasers
You're just another fucking number
I guess you better make it count
You stick your blade into your brother
And watch it all pour out

Sycophantic fuck, using all our trust

I fell off the edge of the world
And I just knew that I just couldn't face those faces
I fell in too deep into sleep
And I just knew that I just couldn't care about those cares

I just couldn't care about those cares
And so you better beware
We pick the morsels from your pity table
Strapped to your chair

You let us into the wild
And it feels quite nice