Last Night, This Morning


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I’m sure people get sick of hearing punk songs about hating where you live or come from. Too bad for those people- that’s what this record is about. At least that’s what it started out being about.

We all come from just about the most rural area you can think of, Huron County, and the great towns of Bayfield and Clinton respectively. These towns, believe or not, are not exactly punk rock meccas. For 8 months of the year, for the past couple years, we have lived in Toronto or the some sort of nearby version of it, (Etobicoke, Mississauga) doing that ole post-secondary education thing. Every summer we move back and swear to god it’ll be our last time we ever do such a thing. Then the next summer rolls around and we repeat the process.

The first couple songs on this record are about the first summer back, the next few are about the next and so on and so forth. As those summers have come and gone our view of our backwoods towns has gone from hatred, to contempt, to just plain disappointment in ourselves and then to the realization that it ain’t the place it’s the stagnancy in our own lives. Truth is we wouldn’t keep on moving back if we didn’t love it so darn much. These songs are about the summer nights, and the terrible mornings after. It’s about the sober autumns after the summer has come a gone and we realize we just wasted 4 months of our lives. It’s about paying homage to those nights, those friends, those bars, those shows and understanding it is time to start moving forward. As Ivan says, this record is about loving where you’re from and learning how to leave it.
-Cam Laurie


released May 2, 2011

Stuck Out Here brought it.
Siegfried Meier recorded it, produced it, mastered it.
Some bros came and yelled on it.
Juicebox Recording Co. handles digital.
Tragicomedy Records handles the rest.



all rights reserved


STUCK OUT HERE Toronto, Ontario

We sing party angst anthems.

For bookings: stuckouthere AT gmail DOT com.

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Track Name: Sober Up Tomorrow
Out on the road playing with bands we don’t know
Hope this one’s a better show, I hope the kids will show at all
They probably won’t, it makes me miss back home
It makes me feel alone, it makes me change my tone and ask:

Oh Nostalgia, what have you done for me lately?
You won’t buy me a round tonight, or back me up in a fight.
Oh Nostalgia, with every mile I drive, every step I strive
Every leap that turns into a dive
I can feel something deep down die
And what’s dying is what’s keeping me alive

I get into these day-drunk stews
That turn into binge drink feuds between my contrasting moods
Between my daydream prose and my heartbroke woes
When I should have dignity and don’t, act with integrity but won’t

So I sit on the curb and call you from my cell
And try and act like the night went well
And you ask if I’ve had a few
And I guarantee you that’s more than true

And I sit on the curb and call you from my cell
And try and act like the night wasn’t hell
And you ask if I’ve had a few
And all I hope is that I can sober up tomorrow
Track Name: Quiet Bears
Is my "Yes We Can" shirt ironic enough to wear
Or does it mean I still believe in hope or change?
I'll get my friends now to ask my friends then
If that night's high still remains
The thrift district burned down in the centre of my town
Where all our burnouts convened
The project kids that trashed place still
Left living gutter dreams

At least they've got somewhere to go
At least they've got nowhere to be
While I'm still STUCK OUT HERE on High Street
When I'm too old not to leave
'Cause I'm no longer young enough to stay
And rest on what I know alone
But I'm too sad and scared to admit
That I'm losing all sense of home

And we are quiet bears
We are too goddamn comfortable
We are sleeping through the most of our winter
And you'll find us there
Laying dormant in the woods
I don't need to be understood
I just need you to listen

My own girlfriend can't even stand my songs
Or how I hold guitars on stage
We sell out of shitty t-shirts
Just so the band can get paid
But we never make a dollar
It always goes to the next expense
By the time we make back what we put in
There's money waiting to be spent

This is a well-oiled machine
I'm not claiming to be the first
To be holding onto something
And waiting for it to burst
But I see the gaps on main street
Where the arcade used to be
I see the same gaps in every goddamn town we pass through
And I struggle to believe

That we are quiet bears
Who are too goddamn comfortable
Who are sleeping through the most of our winter
'Cause when the earth shakes
We start prodding where we stand
I don't think I'll ever understand
But I'm ready to listen

We put candles in the bottoms of our bottles
And we danced in the beerlight
Somewhere a star fuzzed out and that was it
If this whole goddamn town burned down
Who'd give a shit?