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one million things

by of Lyle

I blame my jealousy on the tiled pentagonal corners I blame my impatience on the countless nautical miles I blame my lack of focus on the painful reminders I blame my apathy on maps too obscure to be read properly Pentagonal corners
Nancy Reagan 07:38
Hannah bathed in lamplight, wheels are spinning Maggie hides away when we are eating I’ll describe the roads you’ve never driven, I’m carless and I’m blind but that’s a given Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, Nancy Reagan I can’t remember how I chose your name again Nala used the voice that we invented The voice I’ll use to sing to you when laughter isn’t I’m not dead, but what’s the difference? Melodrama thrives in distance Ollie gets my manga when I’m… Sammy gets old drawings instead, Chloe was gone for three months When I learned that the distance has a way of going to your head Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, Nancy Reagan I can’t remember how I chose your name again Nala used the voice that we invented The voice I’ll use to sing to you when laughter isn’t
My words not yours, to my surprise, My words not yours, though you disguise them Algorithmic functions, words carefully chosen But you cover them, But you cover them up You scream my name is silent ways, Distant murmurs, pocket vibrations You steal the attention intended for the one I’m with And make that one friend say “I told you so” Jeez, let it go please I forgot to write my name on my belongings The problem was words so charming Distance as polish to my knowledge The syllables, the digital scribbles my thumbs did Assorted sordid topics, what Monk said, Japan, ego, escapist, morbid I’ll admit it to prove it’s what I said I’ll admit it to prove it’s what I said My words not yours, to my surprise. My words not yours, though you disguise them. Algorithmic functions, words carefully chosen. But you cover them, but you cover them up.
Water Wears 04:38
The water wears the waves as its skin The water wears the waves as its skin The ocean’s an old woman And I’m trying to go back again The water wears the waves as its skin The water wears the waves as its skin The ocean’s an old woman, I have a stone, can’t keep it from drying up I’m trying to go back again. The ocean wears the waves as its skin The ocean wears the waves as its skin The ocean’s an old woman, I’m trying to go back again.
Dancing in a room we’re not allowed Fake-sleeping on the couch I’m not too proud Swimming in a pool too close to sand You’ve got better news, but mine’s not bad You leaving at night’s a slippery road Screaming in the park’s more real than running home Sneaking up the stairs is my ideal Waiting in the car makes me feel peculiar Oh the Red Sea is a terrible machine One hundred feet of snow in July is the dream When it’s raining I want to see you In the middle of the night when it doesn’t make sense to Diving through the dark into the sea We’re looking at the water differently than before Tell me everything when we’re alone Please tell everything when we’re alone Oh the Red Sea is a terrible machine One hundred feet of snow in July is the dream When it’s raining I want to see you In the middle of the night when it doesn’t make sense to Can you find a way? Can you find another answer? Hurry, it can’t wait, Hurry, can’t you see you’re bleeding? Can we find a way? Can we find a better method? Terrible machine, Terrible machine, I’m waiting
Days 03:19
Together in our second city You didn’t have to visit me here You found your way like climbing up the midnight stairs of cemetery shrines the glistening pools it sometimes bathes in back again by indecision back to Len who told us what we know I dropped it on the floor without you Alone I found it in my pocket And you’re so helpless when you’re in a daze You could not tell me what it said It read in pen, on strange lined paper Days as in what keeps us separate Folded like a Rorschach butterfly I gave into and you unto me The roof, the sky, the territory Uncharted, but I’ve cried before The song was playing where I thought you’d be And at the pace of our hearts beating Climbing stairs with darkness fearing Thinking of the next time we might be
Ichigo Ichie 06:36
At the pace of our heartbeats
Penultima 09:12
Near the corridor, a train roars by inciting sorrow Just a disguise to hide away from tomorrow’s wounds A forced embrace, commence the chase I’ve learned to keep my distance But bike-ride breeze dries teary eyes; the wind is wiser than I could hope to be We climbed a fence to satisfy your reckless craving. In response to the question of our detour’s dead end. Oh, your embrace of the neighboring tree, I tried, and failed, to go so gracefully. On the other side ten feet of weeds to scratch our legs Back to the place from which we came you hold my hand. The traps she laid just fallen things from her mother’s pocket We’re almost home just for the night, see the moon through a past lover’s necklace When the sun falls the heat doesn’t subside Seems you’re the same, but for now I’m still terrified Even gorgeous words are meaningless without the right intention You acquiesce my skeptical eyes and mirror my sentiment with beautiful lies You teach me to cover our tracks before we make them A book unbound by time’s constraint I’ve heard won’t remain empty somehow Stonewall, coffee, Centre, equal, seesaw, light rain, late night, perfect day Blue book, pedal, Harris, grey or gray, CBB, all at once, head in my lap, run away For each thing I don’t miss, I miss one million things


This album could not exist without the contributions of black artists in America. 100% of the proceeds earned from digital sales will be donated to organizations in need such as Black Visions Collective. Thank you for your support.

Liner notes:

One Million Things began in a journal. Like diary entries, these songs were deeply personal, based on very specific events in my everyday life, and intended only for me. The DNA of the album, and of Lyle to some extent, lives in the first and last tracks. “Pentagonal Corners” contains the earliest lyrical content on the album, borrowing directly from poems written during July of 2014 while I often sat on a section of stonewall by Jamaica Pond in Boston. The earliest musical material for the album also comes from 2014; the chord relationship in the bridge and coda of “Penultima” found its way into many of the songs I wrote around that time.

“Penultima” was first recorded for a solo EP I self-released in 2015, Brighter Shades (of bitter). The initial idea as I wrote these someday of Lyle songs was to present them in the same format—on a solo record where I played everything and then perhaps hired a band to play the songs with me in live situations. I was blinded by the belief that this was obvious because song-writing had always felt like my emotional burden, my responsibility, my secret. However, moving to Reno, NV in 2016, completely changed this mindset. Whereas music had been for most of my life a solitary activity, most of my relationships in Reno came from collaborative music-making. Over just a few years, as I wrote and played lots of different music (and began writing songs again) it became clear that these songs would only come to life if I wrote them with the intention that my friends would help me play them.

In my experience, music has a way of growing uncontrollably, unpredictably, when great musicians are involved. It grows and grows, often organically finding its way deeper into the original concept. Just a few years earlier I couldn’t have imagined writing this music with a band in mind, but the decision to play with a dedicated band represented a commitment to storytelling and honesty rather than obscurity. These memories, stories, and feelings were no longer confined to journal entries for myself, but instead became living things, confessions, to be decoded and understood by a broader group of people. This music, these memories, could not exist without the relentless musicianship and openness Julien, Andre, and Greg have demonstrated to me.

I believe that one of the most beautiful, and humbling, realizations a musician can have is that the music and words you’ve written have grown beyond your understanding of them. I may be the writer, but all the members in of Lyle are imaginative and skillful interpreters. I hope you can feel the expansiveness of the stories these songs tell.

When someone listens to one million things, I want them to feel as if they are following a winding trail of breadcrumbs, each crumb a morsel of a memory. Even the most detailed memory can never quite successfully imitate the inspiring event, the one the memory seeks to retain. Instead of trying to relay the specific details of past events with some sort of factual accuracy, the lyrics on one million things focus on the seemingly insignificant and precious details of events with the hope of relaying an accuracy of atmosphere, mood, emotion. The songs ought to feel like a dream or a collage, in which unrelated elements are given the opportunity to exist in the same universe for a while.

The Stories
Each song on One Million Things is a collage of the cut-up details of disparate memories reassembled in order to tell larger stories. I tell the stories this way because I feel it captures the way we build our identities, the way we carry our memories and experiences with us.

“Pentagonal Corners” refers to poetry from a journal entry about how lonely and distant I was feeling while sitting on a stonewall in Boston. “Nancy Reagan” is a song for my sisters and refers to some of the things that defined our relationship growing up together, while also contending with the time we’ve spent apart as we’ve grown older. “My Words (not yours)” is a playful take on the idea that technology can be seen as an extension of the self and was inspired by going through the notes I’d taken on my phone over several years and feeling as though I hadn’t written any of them. “Water Wears” is about the mnemonic devices I’ve employed to learn Japanese and how it has been a poor stand-in for travel. “Terrible Machine” is a collage of instances in which relationships of multiple types felt too difficult, as if the machine that keeps relationships running was destined to fail. “Days” and “Ichigo Ichie” are about my first time making a friend in another country, and a night of exploring we embarked upon. “Penultima” is about a second-to-last night with a dear friend gone wrong. Even the two interludes on the record are memories—"relic 1: My Words” is a reminder of how we played the song live for a long time, while “relic 2: Terrible Machine” is the electronic version of the song I programmed in order to teach the band the song.


released June 5, 2020

of Lyle:
Jordan Caroompas - fender rhodes, korg minilogue, ableton,
Greg Lewis - drum set, op1
Julien Knowles - trumpet, melodica, whistling
Andre Sacalxot - tenor saxaphone, alto saxaphone, clarinet

All songs written and arranged by Jordan Caroompas

Recorded, Mixed and Produced by Daniel Morse
Mastered by Julien Knowles
Album art - Emily Duke
Keeper of the Vibe - Maud


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Jordan Caroompas Brooklyn, New York

jordan caroompas is a musician, writer, and animator based in brooklyn. they eat food, often for enjoyment.

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