and the bleak shall inherit the earth

by Fidel Catastrophe

  • Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

     $5 USD


  • Buy LP



The vinyl comes with a digital download code with the five song Sweaty Money EP and a remix of the Breeze Knees.


released 27 August 2010

written and recorded by Karl Spaeth
mixed and mastered by Chad Wahlbrink
art by Andrew Clark

Fidel Catastrophe is: Karl Spaeth, Sophia Cunningham and Matthew Hontanosas



all rights reserved


feeds for this album, this artist
Track Name: An Endlessness, Thanks
To all my friends that I sincerely love, thank you
To Sophia who sings like a dove, thank you
To my family and God above, thank you
And the guy in the bar that gave me a shove, no thank you.

Please, please, please turn down the TV it's kind of hard to think, and Jim please be quiet 'cause I'm trying to sleep. You see, sometimes I get riddled with anxiety, like when I'm riding in a car and I shake like a leaf, and other times I'm still as can be, like a statue, I'm still as can be. What we have is a mystery and it's too big for our eyes to see, and we have a listlessness and after this is an endlessness. We just have to know what our business is and that words don't rhyme because of suffixes and the love that we cannot dismiss even though we don't know where that love is our lives. There's the night that I died in a smoke filled room and the day I woke up and left my tomb, and there's the things I say to you, the mean things that I say to you.

If you come to see me you'll be sad to find that I'm not a tree, just a stick washed out to sea. Driftwood floating aimlessly, driftwood floating aimlessly. Punctuated like a punchline with a rimshot, cause sometimes these jokes are all I got. Abbreviated like can and not, as in, I can't not share all my thoughts. I hope I won't always be lost....look at selfish me talking selfishly. If I keep this up I'll run out of things to sing. Where's the kind of beauty that only God brings? You know, the kind that's in the rusted out and broken things. Haven't you ever seen the rusted out and broken things?

What I say and what I mean to say are rarely the same things. And what I think I mean, and what I think really means makes me sing what I sing. And so, Linny, what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry. It wasn't worth it what I did, oh no, hardly. I don't know what's good for me, and half the time I don't even know what I think. So, I'm hoping this apology in a song is as good as it would be in ink.
Track Name: Proof
If I could be like you, and do all the things that you teach me to do, then I wouldn't be like me, sinking in fear and salty like the sea. And if you saw you'd agree that we're on the breach of something better than we're used to and in the sky is a light that they're calling truth. All I'm asking for is a little proof, but even without I've got nothing to lose. So I guess this is how I'll be refined, then buried in the ground and up to the sky, where the air is thin and there's nothing, but light.

All God's lonely children rejoice. The body has a head and that head has a voice, and its making a joyful noise that will erase all of our mistakes, so give thanks and give chase, because nothing is the same. Some days just feel like the end of the world. And some winds just suck you in and swirl.

And sure, we all have doubts and only worry when the whispers start becoming shouts. It seems jokes keep coming out of my mouth and people think movies are all that I talk about. It's not untrue, but what can you do when I'm just a collapsed roof? What goes on in my mind that I can't rewind? Searching for God so I can be turned to into wine, like a man learning to walk the line.

This is what happens when you get the bends, and all you can do is just sit and pretend that you didn't get yourself in this lion's den, so you sit in the pit proudly wearing that sweater you knit, wondering if this pit's all that you're going to get and how'd that floor get so wet, and is it going to get wetter? Things can get worse, but they can also get better. Trust me, I know, I'm a sadness veteran, neurotic and stuttering. A hypochondriac on the attack and muttering.
Track Name: Another Garden Song
Winter covers everything in frost, and these branches just aren't strong enough. They won't last until spring, their will to live just isn't that tough, and don't tell the gardner, my boss, but things are looking pretty rough. And there's one last thing that I won't discuss, but sometimes I look at this garden in disgust.

And one day it'll wither away with everything that man has made. It was bad soil where these seeds were sown, nothing's growing today. And one more thing, what didn't I bring? I mean, it had to be me.

Try as I might, and I do try, things haven't been this heavy since 1985, and if I make movies my life telling stories and lies with plots paper thin, I'll never write another song about a garden again, unless of course I change my mind, which I do more often then from time to time. I'm glad I said that, so now we see eye to eye. Try as I might, and I do try, things haven't been this heavy since 1985.

I looked where the garden I planted was, and all I saw were bones and dust. The vines that shout up your throat, ended up being poison oak. The flower petals at your feet, are covered over by fallen leaves. In the vineyard I make my wine, but you're in the barn huffing turpentine. And then there's the seeds that I plant in me, the kind that help me fall asleep, to be watered with whiskey and gin, so in the morning I can sprout again, and then I'll turn and face the sun, but turn away from everyone. Darling, don't you know, these roses won't grow in snow, and this sad and lonely gardner, stops looking for a partner.
Track Name: No Good Triggers
I used to drive in the slow lane in case I would start panicking, its just easier to pull off to the side. Then I moved on to the fast lane, but if you're speeding and see a cop it's harder to hide. Now, I'm stuck in the middle lane, its pretty much the same, but you can move to either side. So, if you're going my way and see me on the highway, and I'm sliding sideways, then you know I'm crashing and I might die. This happened, true story, when I got T-Boned by a semi, and I have to say, no life flashed before my eyes.

Oh boy, don't you know that you don't always have to go away? Sometimes you could stay and maybe we could make a day of it. Oh boy, don't you know you don't always have to use that tone? Sometimes you could think of nice things to say, and maybe we could make a day of it.

I'm a little hazy on what happened next, but if you insist I won't be like this, and if you believe me, these problems won't persist. After a near death experience most people have epiphanies on what to do next. No epiphanies came, but comedy and text, video and sound, still music with a frown.

I used to be a good passenger, but now I say I have to drive. I used to be calm, but now I take sleeping pills when I fly. I say that I can't swim, but I think that its a lie. Maybe I just forgot, but I can float to say alive. I used to be funny, but now the laughter's canned. The laughs of dead folks ending with a stand. Like a sitcom from the 50s they say the father knows who I am, and that he sent a son to save us and will one day come again.