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I Am The Cheese

by Danny Carroll

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  • Streaming + Download

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

    Rare, antiquated listening format. Will provide a great addition to your sarcophagus or millennium space capsule.

    Includes unlimited streaming of I Am The Cheese via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    edition of 20 
    Purchasable with gift card

      €10 EUR or more 

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    This took about 8 months to get pressed, and there's a very limited amount of them. Pressed on red cheddar vinyl for a salivating, pavlovian listen.

    Includes unlimited streaming of I Am The Cheese via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    edition of 50 
    Purchasable with gift card

      €20 EUR or more 

     

1.
Pep Talk 03:47
I'm not wasting more time here I'm not wasting more time this year with small-town jealousy, comparison and fear I'm not wasting more time here I'm not wasting more time this year On casual dockets, and crap dutch beer It's harder to admit it than to act cavalier Harder to admit you've learned less than old peers Harder to admit it the way out is unclear Going grey with a head of unfinished ideas Propping up the bar with the faded balladeers Another slurred speech about my difficult career Perfecting this cynical sideline sneer I'm not wasting more time here I'm not wasting more time this year In foetal position, weeks disappear I'm not wasting more time here I'm not wasting more time this year with sarcastic shite talk, too scared to sound sincere Going grey with a head of unfinished of ideas Propping up the bar with the faded balladeers Furtive desires and punk ideals Perfecting this cynical sideline sneer I’m not wasting more time here I’m not wasting more time this year
2.
Golden Hour 04:00
Crossing the river at golden hour When the match isn’t over and everyone’s elsewhere So you act like it’s yours alone to discover You act like it’s never been seen before Walking towards her, breath getting shorter She’s entered your character, become its core In the amber light of an Indian summer The old town shimmers like you’ve never noticed before… The orchestra in my heart starts to sing Drowns out any doubt there could’ve been The soft, building, drumroll of her gaze Beats me into believing we’re okay Pushing you forward, turning the corner Piggyback, hold-tight, down the quays Speeding up to hear her scream Gives a bold new reason to dream Baby your world play has got me thirsty Off work early, drunk on Thursday Pissed and whispering Wilco in the middle of the night “I’m the Dan who loves you”, alright. The orchestra in my heart starts to sing Drowns out any doubt there could’ve been Her name resonates at a deeper frequency Stirs me into believing it’s meant to be
3.
Pimlico 04:10
Plodding through Pimlico, in the soft spitting rain of a granite grey Sunday The kind of aesthetic Ian Curtis impersonators would like to pretend is deeply poetic If it paints you a picture, I'm pretty hungover, gently heartbroken in yesterday's clothes Holes in my shoes and puddles between my toes The local head case is on the green wailing Buffalo Soldier and swaying in his dream Aspiring scumbags are lobbing eggs from a Honda Civic with a dodgy reg The new pram pushers are not concerned The old dog walkers have also learned It's none of your business, wind your neck in Keep your mouth shut, count your blessings The air is smothered with the smell of Guinness It doesn't help you to feel less nauseous I guess last night she came to her senses I’m not really smart I’m just fucking pretentious And maybe the misery won’t be momentous But at the moment it’s worth the mention. Plodding through Pimlico, down onto Bridgefoot Then over the river to go to rehearsal I'll hide in the practice room, for two or three hours Run through the set and forget about everyone For a moment at least I'm high and invincible To the world outside I’d say I'm untouchable In a mouldy bunker it’s all bearable With four chords and a brief release...
4.
Celtic jersey Corduroy jacket Hair down to there 15watt racket I never learned the conventions of cool Good old days being told you’re gay as if nothing could matter more Tripped up and pinned to the floor by conventions of cool Gotta watch your back Memorise this fact Never be sincere That’s a weakness here Staying silent Out of habit Hiding in headphones Buried in Black Sabbath, it was Some escape from the conventions of cool Splits on a fifty bag Smoke it the forest A little haze helps you feel like a tourist when you’re Too familiar with the conventions of cool Gotta watch your back Try to act relaxed Never show your fear That won’t help you here My hands shake when I think about it Even now, sometimes feel surrounded I hope they get theirs Well-earned nightmares
5.
Match of the day Keeping us sane Overdubbed crowd noise Tricking our brain It helps when nothing else Feels certain anymore If you know, well please don’t tell me I don’t want to hear the score before Match of the day Filled with debate A cast of bald men From way back when disagree with the referee about an easy penalty For me, undoubtedly That’s all we really need Magnificent imported mercenaries Diving for Saudi dignitaries Proficient middle England journeymen For the wage alone you’d envy them It’s a funny old game I stream for free with a VPN It works for an hour Then its cuts out again
6.
February 05:29
I guess it’s finally getting in on me A deep fatigue for February A year’s disappeared but the days go slow Stuck in a loop on North Circular Road The boiler’s broken, and I’m cracked too Fairy lights can only do so much for our mood At 1pm it’s the remote staff meeting, We’re having ‘virtual cake’ for the girl who’s leaving I guess it’s finally getting in on me The old fatigue for February Tiesto’s blaring, from the flat below Til’ 3am that’s just how they cope I suppose I’m gonna build a fort in the living room Crawl back into this man-made womb Learn to monetise my anxieties Make a mental health podcast for RTÉ I mean I’m no expert, but you know I’m owning it… I wanna go back To a simpler time Playing Championship Manager 98-99 Where I’ll have some control And know what to do Take Wolves on a cup run Til’ that falls apart too
7.
Affection 04:26
Affection’s so obscured by distance At this stage it’s an abstract concept Hidden in a string of emails Signing off with less commitment I’d lie to you if it made a difference Mostly subjects/creatures of convenience We’re mostly products of our context Alcohol and loose agreements So we don’t say that little phrase anymore And can’t rely on that cliché like before Two months apart and two to go (until your home) Too far removed these days to know... I do my best not to blame you Or second guess attempts to talk through The guilt abroad and false temptation Things we lose to new locations It’s been a while since someone mattered Nice to notice when I’m shattered A crooked kind of consolation Still singing despite relegation So we don’t say that little phrase anymore And can’t rely on that cliché like before Two months apart and two to go (until your home) Too far removed these days to know... Affection’s so obscured by distance Emotions missed in picture postcards Clutter we can call mementos Or the paper trail for how we let go
8.
Cheesemonger 03:26
Infatuated with the effort it takes Notions of fate, and having to wait for connections that really matter the triumph in how we surpass time, distance and logic too many mistakes of the past To think of me then and to look at you now Everything’s coming up Millhouse Striding through the rising tide staring down old doubts with pride I thank God I’m alive, for a change Honey you keep me in daydreams Crap Bing Crosby crooning Does the sincerity of the delivery make up for the wayward tuning? Beyond any sarcastic apathy or elaborate, worn out jealousy this cheesemonger you’ve made of me It’s something else completely.
9.
October afternoons bed bound with the blues Colour drains from the day And there’s nothing I can say October afternoons In low wattage rooms Dust gathers in the glass Start to argue with the past I know it’s hard to be anything with limited energy The future feels shuttered when you’re stuck on a memory October afternoons Weighed down by the news Turn away from the screen Another worry you don’t need October afternoons No getting through to you Keeping out of sight In this feeble light It’s hard to be anything with limited energy The future feels meaningless counting your enemies Words are going cheap, but Mine are yours to keep Forget about the past You’re not going back You’re not going back there October afternoons I can’t walk in your shoes Just be by your side Hope you feel alright

about

I Am The Cheese is an album I initially recorded with Chris W. Ryan in a week in June 2021. We did this in a terraced house in East Belfast - visited by Carl Eccles on two occasions to play guitar and sing some backing vocals. In the months that followed, Finn McCarthy emailed me bass parts, and I added various bells and whistles to the songs from a flat on North Circular Road in Dublin 7. Laura Ryder also contributed piano to the song Cheesemonger. The drums were performed and recorded by Chris on one day in January 2022 in Start Together Studios. He then mixed the album, and eventually I got it mastered by the late, great John Davis (Blur, The XX, Careerist) who passed away in September 2023.

I've sat on the album a long time, in part down due to vinyl pressing, in part due to personal reasons. The mental fortitude it takes to independently 'emerge' and 'unleash' is not always forthcoming. At this point the album feels like a distant document. Nevertheless, it's still something I'm happy to have made for myself.

The title is taken from the 1977 Robert Cormier YA novel, which haunted my adolescence. The final lines of the novel refer back to the folk song 'The Farmer In The Dell':
"The cheese stands alone.
The cheese stands alone.
Hi-ho, the derry-o!
The cheese stands alone"

For a number of reasons it felt fitting to lift that title.

credits

released March 1, 2024

Produced by Chris W. Ryan
Finn McCarthy plays bass
Chris Ryan plays drums
Carl Eccles plays some guitar on track 4, 7 and 8
Laura Ryder plays piano on track 8

Made with the kind support of Fingal Arts Office.
Cover photo by Darren Hill
Design by Anna Frizelle

Mastered by John Davis at Metropolis Studios

license

all rights reserved

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about

Danny Carroll Dublin, Ireland

embarrassing millennial, still at the music in Dublin, Ireland

shows

  • May 30
    Berlin, Germany

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