Lies Don't Look So Good on You

by The Modern Age

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recorded at the Tower in Echo Park, Los Angeles, mixed at SAR Studios in Drums, Pennsylvania by Paul Sinclair. mastered at Sterling Sound in New York City, New York by Justin Schturtz. artwork by Paul Malhotra.


released December 13, 2014

Paul Malhotra - bass, Joe Pugliese - drums, Dan Pritchard - vocals, guitar, Donald Waldman - keyboards, vocals



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The Modern Age Los Angeles, California

uncut unadulterated alternative rock and roll out of Echo Park, Los Angeles

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Track Name: Lies Don't Look So Good on You
Tell me the secrets you dearly hold
They seem to take their toll
Sharing can help to you let it go
Can't let anger boil until it blows

I see action behind your eyes
Clearly a detached mind
It's piercing to deal with that silent type
Knowing your head's stuck in the crime

Lies don't look so good on you
Baby don't
Crash our moment
Lies don't let us swap shoes
You gotta know
We got a good thing going

Don't be afraid to lay it on me
Your hopes and your fears
We need to keep each other honest
Open hearts, open ears
Private burdens keep us lonely
Only cause confused tears
The good and the bad
Links us to our past

Dancing in the diction we arrange
Stances to block old ways
It's demanding to separate the shapes
Of smoke signals blown to spell our days

Standing in the back of my mind
A man screams "Make things right!"
So can we put down our pride
And show all the warmth that is inside

Track Name: Becoming Bourgeoisie
Born with a shovel in hand
Told to dig to succeed
We all want our troubles to be taken away
When you're becoming bourgeoisie

Dark brew to keep us up
Blue pills to put us asleep
Physicians prescribe many a-names
When you're becoming bourgeoisie

50 weeks on land
2 spent out on sea
X-ing out days to get taken away
When you're becoming bourgeoisie

I've waited a lifetime
Waited a lifetime to own my property
Half of a century
Half of a century to slice off my private piece

We used to tumble through dusty times
Now we complain about the price of things
Ain't it funny how age makes most lean right
When you're becoming bourgeoisie