History of Forgotten Things

by Jed Whedon and the Willing

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about

Includes a DIGITAL BOOKLET.

credits

released August 10, 2010

Performed and Produced by Jed Whedon
Recorded at Burnside Studios, Los Angeles, CA
Mastered by Scott Sedillo at Bernie Grundman Mastering
Music and Lyrics written by Jed Whedon except
Tracks 1 & 10 – Lyrics by Nick Gusikoff and Jed Whedon
Track 2 – Music by Amir Yagmai and Jed Whedon
Track 10 – Story excerpt by Zack Whedon

Cover Art by Greg Jacobson

Special love to all those willing to contribute to this album: Nick “The Goose” Gusikoff, as always. Amir Yagmai. My brothers Sam and Zack Whedon. Ethan Phillips. Felicia Day. Beau Barbour. And most of all Maurissa for providing me with her voice, her ears, her patience, and endless inspiration.

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about

Jed Whedon and the Willing Los Angeles, California

Jed Tucker Whedon was born in Hollywood, California. He took piano lessons when he was a kid. His first recital was on a harpsichord and his teacher forbid him to listen music that featured electrified guitars. He now owns several and lives in the Los Angeles area with his wife Maurissa and daughter Benny Sue. ... more

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Track Name: Interstate
The air is close, about to break. Snow is waiting to cascade. Change in the season brings merely a host of things you wanna say but you are unable. Strange we children grow. Days will come and nights will go. But we get loud when the eastside meets the west coast crowd.

Six years gone. I see your shape and toss the key from the fire escape. My mind is still a maze of doubt. They’re making pills to fake it out. You should be stable. You are unable. Strange we children grow. Days will come and nights will go. But we get loud when the eastside meets the west coast crowd.

Funny the battles that we brave. Feels like we’re still in second grade. No longer people that we save as much as the money that we’ve made. Well, travel on. Interstate. At least we’ve got our direction straight.
Track Name: Tricks On Me
Tell a story of a life together. Vigorous embrace. Well, it’s about you, Dove. A little light across your face. My eyes play tricks on me. The line fades ‘tween sky and sea. Miles away the hours of heartbreak. In dark they’re coming to get me.

Still the sound of everybody. Crackle, house in flame. And I avoided the shore till it calls out my name. My eyes play tricks on me. The line fades ‘tween sky and sea. Miles away, the hours of heartbreak. In dark they’re coming to get me.
Track Name: To Be Money
Piece above the fireplace for which they paid a mint. Polish it so I can see myself in the silver finished print. Plant a tree. Watch it grow. Cut it down to size. See the chest is hollow. Profit by all means and cover my eyes. To be money.

Harlequin mobile above the cradle turns. Lesson one. It’s the first true thing that the little baby learns. Lead, the rest will follow. Say I love you. I don’t mean it. See the chest is hollow. Profit by all means and cover my eyes. To be money.

In my hand there lies a smoking Tommy gun. And you hold your pistol high, a finger and a thumb. Shows you can’t even fantasize a thing that fires more than one by one. The rest will say I love you. They don’t mean it. The chest is hollow. Profit by all means and cover my eyes. To be money.

1 Beer bottles played with pens and pencils.
2 Beau and Felicia join in on the la la las.
Track Name: Drones
Sun rises slow. Water rides the air gathering in the clouds. Forming raindrops or heavy snow. Sun melts the snow. Gravity kicks in. Tributaries drop. Empty into the sea we go. We’re drones. Happy as we are. Thinking our sustain lies in love. The flow. Tearing us apart. Follow the unchanged ancient sun.

Young emperor’s boy. Subjects bow their heads. Tributaries drop for the man who will rule them all. We’re drones. Happy as we are. Thinking our sustain lies in love. The flow. Tearing us apart. Follow the unchanged ancient sun.
Track Name: Sugar Cane
I’ll navigate the plains. Rows and rows reaching for sky. It’s why we cremate remains… No restraint reaching for sky. Pulling your tank top down, gave me an answer. What does it matter? Nobody else around.

So murder me while I’m asleep, my love. Dreaming of Hanalei Valley. Set ablaze to dissipate in falls of acid rain. Good as wheat and sweet as sugar cane.

Don’t look now, too many clouds. Better to be cut down at peak elevation. What does it matter? Heading downhill from there.

So murder me while I’m asleep, my love. Dreaming of Hanalei Valley. Set ablaze to dissipate in falls of acid rain. Good as wheat and sweet as sugar cane.
Track Name: Ancestors
Branches and grass, our hut. Covered in ash and mud. Pierce me with cattle bones, drinking their milk and blood. The fire dances with our ancestors, the stars. See how they glow. See how they glow. Fasten the weightless crew. We’re leaving orbit soon. OMS thrusters full, slingshot around the moon. The earth behind us as we journey to the stars. See how it glows. See how it glows.
Track Name: Last Man
Can’t be too hard to pulverize. Hair in my eyes, slow to arise. Won’t find me, I apologize. Camouflage on. Sorry, sucker. Last man left is left alive. You’re in the fire of a fight. I’ll end all right. Shinin’ in infrared light, you’re in my telescopic sight. High end all right.

Built up an army of Julys. Sense of surprise said its goodbyes. Take what I can and improvise. There and I’m gone. Sorry, sucker. Last man left is left alive. You’re in the fire of a fight. High end all right. Shinin’ in infrared light. You’re in my telescopic sight. High end all right.

Guess I’ve been wearing out a poor disguise. Too many ticks and doubts you recognize. Honing in on me. Honing in on me some.
Track Name: Heat of a Match
Name in gold. Big marquee. L.A. cold. Fifty three. While the heat of match could dry. Dry up the tears you’ve shed. Shed in the name of love. Heart is detached from head. Your arm around his waist comes so naturally. Not done to cause me pain. That’s what tortures me. While the heat of match could dry. Dry up the tears you’ve shed. Shed in the name of love. Heart is detached from head. While the heat of match could warm. Warm up the heart you left. Left in the name of love. But I’ve got no more matches…
Track Name: Troublemaker
Though her body shows no signs, there’s a life inside. In the rain, tears run and hide. Lift her up and out the door. Screw the traffic laws. They’re unsafe now, boy, to abide. Take a piece of leather, bite down for the pain. Afraid the troublemaker might drown? Drain. Till I learn the hard way, love, all I know you need is the weight pulled off. It’s not your fault. In the hallway, right, I’m in the pieces. To your face, got the comeback locked down. If the one you care for gives out, stay. And even though you know there’s no god, pray. Lift her up and out the door. Give her something sound. My name.
Track Name: Bad Son
Turning off the belt line weatherworn and running low. Scent of the shore pine; evidence I’m home. You say, “It’s the bad son. Now returning to the coast.” I say we’re not done till you’re giving up the ghost.

Error free and divine. See the ditch already dug. Clear as a street sign; it’s written all over your mug. She’s staggering back. “It’s me, your baby.” Drink slips from her hand. “Don’t call me crazy…” Hear shattering glass. “Cause you made me.”

Hits you swift as strychnine. Soaks you as the downpour. Dig me. A gold mine. Here’s to many, many more. Crimson lips to rose wine. Blue-blind and so smug. You’re on the decline; it’s written all over you mug. She’s staggering back. “It’s me, your baby.” Drink slips from her hand. “Don’t call me crazy...” Hear shattering glass. “Cause you made me.”
Track Name: One for the Ages
Written and bound, leaving from Burnside. Might as well head, it’s more than a days drive. It’s a fresh start (or a sad ending) as we’re rolling straight up the five. So how do you know it’s bad? Just fill in the pages. Such a fine line between trash and one for the ages.

Could be the drugs, but this is outstanding. Rented a house, 13th and landing. Word’s getting round, track in the basement and what’s growing in the backyard. So how do you know it’s bad? It’s there in the pages. Time’s gonna show this ain’t trash. It’s one for the ages. Spending our waking hours and minimum wages trying to make just one one for the ages.

Written and bound, only a chapter. Guess I’m not sound, more an adapter. It’s a bittersweet tale of searching for answers, or just rolling when it got hard. So how do you know it’s bad? It’s there in the pages. Time’s gonna show this ain’t trash. It’s one for the ages. Spending our waking hours and minimum wages trying to make this one. Yeah, one for the ages.
Track Name: These Words
String of syllables you’ll infuse with soul. Irony at play when I have to say, “These words mean nothing to me. These words mean nothing to me. These words mean nothing to me. These words mean nothing to me. These words mean nothing. These words mean nothing. These words mean nothing. These words mean nothing. These words mean nothing. These words mean nothing. These words mean nothing. These words mean nothing.”