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Matt Barber Hussalonia

by Hussalonia

In the days of my old Walkman, how I used to feel better then. But I've been touched by modern medicine and I've paid to talk to counselors. I think there's cancer in my soul. And just like anything that feels good, it's not enough to be satisfied. You dream of it killing you. I've got a lot to lose and I'm ready to lose it all. Love, love is always good. And so it's always dangerous. It's getting hard to be someone, but it all works out. It doesn't matter much to me. I've got a lot to lose and I'm ready to lose it all.
Oh baby, please surrender. Let's go quietly. We'll hold our questions. We'll hold our fire. You don't have to explain a thing. I know the dreams of young Americans have short wicks that make for good show. But they're not brilliant, they're just burning brilliantly. There's a difference, don't you know? You'll never be famous. You'll never be a millionaire. There's just a few of us who love what you do. And we do. Last week I couldn't sleep. I've been worrying a lot about somethings. I finally got up and I put on that CD and listened, listened in the dark. And for that night, for that hour, you were the best thing that ever happened to me. And in the morning I felt tired and hopeless and worried all over again. You'll never be famous. You'll never be a millionaire. There's just a few of us who love what you do. And so you do.
You know me well enough to hate me, and I've given you good cause to kill me. I might have seen that murderous look in your eye. You cracked all my AC/DC records, and I told you I didn't like your sister. I might have said that I never want to see you again. But if you really wanted to see me, you know you could. It's been a thousand years or maybe more. I swear I'm not as difficult as I was before. They had me taking pills for just a couple of years. I tore your photos right in two. I erased you from my memory. Oh baby, say you didn't do the same to me. I'm glad you finally decided to grow your hair out. I found that picture you were always asking about. So how's your sister? I'm really glad I've run into you. And if you really wanted to see me, you know where to look.
Dumb it down 02:51
The lights are off and we're all home. We're going under your head and we're sinking low. Just give 'em an answer, you know you can't be wrong. The water's only so deep, your leash is only so long. And I'm sad. You make me sad 'cuz you want me and I want you, too. But you want me to dumb it down. And so we're dumbing it down. So much for better writers. They haven't stopped us yet. We're still punishing our pencils, terrorizing the same old sentiments. And I've been looking for some cheap shortcuts to bring me up to speed. You just show 'em your smile and lie through your teeth. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Stand back. I'll show you how stupid I can get.
I see you standing in the line, checking voice mail from what I can tell. Listening and doing little else. Standing in high heel shoes with a degree in business school, looking taller than ever before. How can I help you, Becky? Now that there's just a counter between us, it does not mean you can no longer affect me. There's a whole world of opportunity, but not tonight, not for me. How can I help you, Becky? There'll never be a good excuse. There'll never be another chance like this to drive a knife in a give it a twist. So tell me, hon, just how have you been? As you can see I never quite recover. Never quite get over a former lover. Oh Becky, just turn around and pretend that you don't know me. Oh Becky, I'm ready to help you. So how can I help you, Becky?
I atone for things that I said when you knew me. I never thought I would be breathing so shallow while I sank in my own vehicle. Now I'm alone. Yeah, I'm alone in this idealization of the past. I let my heart tumble and rattle my ribs and hurt me like it still made a difference. I pull out those old records and the sounds give me chills. I still hear your voice between the verses saying, "Don't turn here. No, don't turn here. Keep driving." Is your brother still writing those stories about those burglars? I had a dream they movie about the one where they caught but it ended in a Hollywood kiss. Yeah, it was you and me and we were shooting bullets from the back of our limousine. And if I had to admit it, yeah, I miss your whole family way more than I'd ever miss mine. No, don't turn here. No, don't turn here. Keep driving.
I used to dream about the future. I'd fly over seas to visit you. Now everyone lives in the modern age. A face with a permanent frown. And we inherit all the credit and the debt of all of the lovers before. But you can't stay here. I already called a cab. You can't stay here. It's too late for that. On that birthday where we met your new girlfriend, it became fairly evident that we'd never ever see her again. I hear you speaking in my voice. I see you in my mirror. You're waiting for someone to perform with. Don't you know that it's just you? You can't stay here. I already called a cab. You can't stay here. It's too late for that.
If you knew there was no reason to live then would you? Would not living seem like the better thing to do? We sat in the car and we stared at the dash. If you're not doing something, then you're doing nothing. Don't do nothing. You see, someone called and said that they had planted a bomb. I said, "Hey, doctor how long do you think that this will go on?" And she said, "There are thousands of dog houses to draw. So go on." If you're not doing something, then you're doing nothing. Aw, Jesse, don't do nothing. In my head I started to hear that melody, and I knew I should have taken that turn at Albuquerque.
I've been meaning to have this talk. I want to tell you why I fell in love with you. You were so romantic, I was moved. But now I see what that really means, exaggerated feelings with polar extremes and a predisposition for melodrama. All romantics are fools. And you make me sick. Yes, you do. Well it's funny that you should bring this up. I want to tell you why I fell in love with you. You were so idealistic, I was moved. But now I see what that really means, high expectations that no one can meet and heavy handed judgement if you don't. An idealist is a fool. And you make me sick. Yes, you do. But fools fall in love. Yes, they do.


Ten no-nonsense "power-pop" songs that clock in at about two minutes apiece. Obtuse lyrics about anti-depressants, retail, melancholia, the meaning of life, love, misanthropia etc... Simple, efficient, writing punctuated by hard-hitting drumming, three-part harmony and guitar feedback. Fun, if you don't listen to the lyrics.

Who is Matt Barber? Matt runs a chain of bakeries in Western New York called Matt Barber Cakes (home of the Hussalonia Chip Cookie). Everyone knows what a sweet tooth the Hussalonia founder has, and so it is no surprise that through their mutual love of pop music and sugar, the two have become close friends. In addition to making fine cakes and desserts, Mr. Barber also happens to be the hardest hitting drummer in Buffalo and a strong supporter of independent music. (Barber regularly shows up at local shows with an arm full of cakes and cookies.) When the Hussalonia founder needed a drummer for these ten no-nonsense, pop noisemakers, Barber was the obvious choice. Once the two entered the studio, they bonded over their mutual love for the Replacements, Nirvana, Superchunk, Buddy Holly and vanilla frosting. The record reflects all five influences equally. Sentimental and noisy. Sweet and nihilistic. Simple and reckless. Efficient and indulgent.


released July 7, 2007

Drums: Matt Barber




Hussalonia Buffalo, New York

Hussalonia is largely the work of a multi-instrumentalist known only as The Hussalonia Founder.

Founded in 1997, Hussalonia is a "pop music cult" and claims to be owned by Nefarico™, a fictional soap company.

The Hussalonia Founder lives and works in Buffalo, New York.
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