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Nefarico™ Chalet

by Hussalonia

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sargassxm thumbnail
sargassxm another display of the founder's excellence in imbuing hussalonicity into every album he makes :) Favorite track: Music Made a Mess of Me.
wally thumbnail
wally rock on george for ringo one time Favorite track: The Luckiest Fool Alive.
I was born with a silver bullet in my mouth. You just can’t get to San Jose if your window faces south. Oh please! Do you know the way to Broadway? How can I make music when music’s made a mess out of me? The walrus was my mother. Major Tom, my old man. Darlin’ Nikki was my brother, Only family I ever had. Mercy, Mercy, Mercy! I have no grip on reality. How can I make music when music’s made a mess out of me? If I ever had a red cent, I spent it all on gear and I played loud enough to ensure I cannot hear. Seriously! Somebody get me a doctor! How can I make music when music’s made a mess of me?
I've got some good news and bad news to break to you: 1. You're not alone. 2. You're not alone.
Mediocrity becomes former glories, fabled lore from boring stories. The bad times, they just couldn’t stay. There are worse times on their way. Your old enemies become memories… All the things you’re claiming to hate someday you’ll appreciate in sharp relief, or nostalgic grief for the wretchedness of yesterday. Your painful past, you finally understand, now that it’s worse, wasn’t all that bad. Your prom theme, what a dreadful song, you’ll find yourself one day singing along. Exodus en masse. This too shall pass...
"I only want what's best for you," you said as you took away what's best for me.
The sun did not rise because I lost my sunglasses. It got a little warmer because I forgot my jacket. Tell me again how life is so hard. The grass is always greener in my front yard. A fault, a mistake, Everything’s a piece of cake. I’m the luckiest fool alive. When nobody cares and nobody sees how brilliant you are, there’s no one you’re obligated to please. I flounder and fail. It’s all a captivating tale. I’m the luckiest fool alive.
Lie to Me 01:15
I’m dot, dot, dot, anxious I’m dot, dot, dot, calm. Look at my flat attire. Go ahead and put me on. There’s nothing but heartbreak as far and wide as the eye can see. And I think I changed my mind; it’s okay to lie. Lie to me. Only a fool can or will go on. Only a sage knows it’s okay to be wrong. I’m whining with fine age. In the absence of love, I’ll take pity. Oh, I think I changed my mind. It’s okay to lie. Lie to me.
I'm muttering under my breath over you. Like a haunted house, I’m crumbling inside. To be free is to be alone. To be alone’s to be free. I’m muttering under my breath over you.
“I don’t think I belong,” said everyone who has ever lived. What’s this place for if nothing else than to get it wrong? Let’s say that you get it right. Now this is all hypothetical. Everyone’s got some idiom to justify the mean. Move along, there is nothing here to see. I’m just looking through me. There’s something about dogs I admit that I cannot stand, the unconditional obedience, their loyalty to man. Okay, I’m not being fair. Now, this is almost the very last thing. If they asked me, I could write a book, and then I’d set it afire.
You'll be sad when I'm dead, but I'll be too dead to care.
Nominate me for an Oscar if I get through today. Meta one, meta two, meta three, metaphor: the only prayer that I pray. All of my problems are made to be solved. I’m sure of this because I made them all. I feel like a cartoon kicking a tin can down the road. I am what happens when one spends too much time alone. Well, one and one sometimes makes three, and I should know. What kind of monster would I be if I were happy? Go ahead and call it hell. I call it home sweet home. I am what happens when one spends too much time alone.
All my mistakes, I call correct. They're only words — I call collect. You can take my word or take offense, an American white picket line of defense. Insecurity and lack of control has made a troll of everyone. Suffering fools, here we are.
Bloodthirsty 03:24
Everything’s on fire. We’re watching it burn. Breathing in fumes that will take us down, too. The ancient scribes. The comments scroll barely composed by bots and trolls. Everyone wants to see a fight. Everyone thinks they’re persecuted. We’re bloodthirsty. I’m trying so hard to believe in something. But everyone drools when justice is wicked, to do unto another as someone has undone you. We’re Bloodthirsty. When your heart was forged in pain, You'll break it yourself to go home again. Unintended consequences can only finitely be unintended. We’re bloodthirsty.


When The Hussalonia Founder learned that he was indefinitely assigned to be the house entertainment at Nefarico™ Chalet, needless to say, he was not pleased. Remotely located just outside the Swiss Alps, in a heavily-wooded area where few tourists dare to travel, it was essentially a prison sentence. Thankfully, he was assigned pianist Joe Rozler and drummer John Anderson, and the three marooned musicians made the best of their situation, working on new material in between the grueling rehearsals for the Nefarico™ Officer Revue and the long shifts of compulsory soap-manufacturing. This album, recorded on site, is the result of those four months sequestered at the Chalet. We hope you enjoy the show.

— Dolores DeCabeza, Head of Nefarico™ Public Relations


released November 29, 2021

All songs written by The Hussalonia Founder with arrangement contributions from Joe Rozler and John Anderson.

Joe Rozler: All piano. Bass guitar on tracks 3, 6, 8, 12
John Anderson: Drums
The Hussalonia Founder: Everything else

Recorded at Nefarico™ Chalet
Produced by Shep Huntleigh
Cover art by Captain Blanqueador
© 2021 Hussalonia BMI




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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