by Advrb

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Songs by Andrew Barton


released July 30, 2011

Arranged, engineered, and mixed by Andrew Barton.

Mastered by Fred Thomas.


Andrew Barton: voice, guitars, keys, percussion, drums.
Kellen Hopfner: voice
John England-Fischer: trumpet, mellophone, glockenspiel
Taylor Kaplan: drums
Anna Ponto: violin
Gregory Hedderman: bass guitar
Lucas Winiarski: clarinet
Russell Melia: mandolin

Basic tracks recorded in Eugene, OR– at night in the empty hallways, classrooms, and theater spaces of Villard Hall, a building completed in 1886.

Arrangements recorded in Portland, OR– in houses, apartments, and classrooms.

Cover photography by Delphine Bedient



all rights reserved


Advrb Portland, Oregon

Andrew Barton plays, sings, records, organizes, and designs music things as Advrb.

Kellen Hopfner sings with him.

Josh Bay plays cello.

Elisabeth Ryan plays drums.

The band sounds both quiet and loud.
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Track Name: Stay In Libraries
surrounded on all sides
by spines, thread, and glue
the books become a metaphor
for how i feel about you
though the catalog has been digitized
they can't possibly keep track
and after checking out a new feeling
i'm reluctant to give it back

well, you're the cinnamon in the apple sauce
as awesome
as the price tags on the thrift store finds
or the string arrangements in the best songs
so let's stay in libraries
and compile our stack
and in a wax paper bag
i'll sneak in a snack

so we skip and hop
through the shelves
i'm so damn glad
we know how to be ourselves
surrounded on all sides
by spines, thread, and glue
the books become a metaphor
for how i feel about you
Track Name: Someday We're Going To Live In Belgium
someday we're going to live in belgium
drink wine out of wicker bottom bottles
then ride our bicycles down hills full throttle!
we'll hang our clothes out on the line
over the courtyard between our rooms
above the cherry trees in full bloom!
yeah, someday we're going to live in belgium
wake up to the smell of bread baking
and coffee on the stove percolating
we'll work for a florist and a book-binder
buy our food at the local market
with euros from our shared woven basket
yeah, someday we're going to live in belgium
dress as ridiculously as we want
herringbone coats and canvas totes we'll flaunt!
we'll wheat-paste posters with drawings of rabbits
to crumbling brick buildings
we'll stay up late nights, making up songs & singing!
they won't have to break new ground
but they will be pure and honest sound
and when we are living in belgium
we'll tell all those dumb fucks,
those who ever doubted us
they said "that's a silly fantasy!"
we said "it's going to become reality!"
its not just trappist ales and fancy chocolates!
no we carry our dreams around with us in our pockets
Track Name: San Francisco Day-Long Adventure Song
... so skip ran into susan,
on the way to meet me,
and we took off together, us three!
i guess there's no winter around haight ashbury

we sat on a bench,
in the orange sunlight for a long time,
all happy to not be spending saturday alone
susan wanted to get a mcdonald's ice cream cone
we laughed at her, she got one anyway,
we passed spilt hummos on the pavement
solidifying sadly

it was the start of an adventure
(the sort i hadn't had in years)

we scaled a mountain
and at the top of that mountain
we spotted another mountain
and we sped down our first mountain
jumped over a gate, ran through backyards,
round corners, and up steep hills
until we got to that second mountain,
hurried up that 2nd mountain,
reached the panoramic view,
the sun started setting,
the breeze turned cold,
the world spun in slow mo
and we STOPPED.

in the distance we could see The Mission,
that big fucking Safeway 'S',
ended up on a tennis court,
kicking dirt out of our shoes
as the moon rose low and slow...
in the blue light through the castro

ian called from 11 blocks away,
told us about a show in "this new gallery"-
got there, couldn't get in;
no lentils or salad for us-
but we got to talk to ian, holding it down,
with all his new east bay hommies...

the BART downtown in 5 minutes
witnessed a drug deal between stops.
out on the street waited for skip's sketchy french friend
to take us into an anonymous urban buidling
up to the 3rd floor for an "erotic art opening"
yes, an "erotic art opening"
there were
weird naked people, strawberries, and paté...

it was almost too much to take.

we ended up in chinatown
at a hole in wall,
drank weak jasmine tea
ate potstickers and spring rolls
as they closed the place around us

we found a fountain,
walked under that fountain,
smelt chlorine sprayed in the air,
we marveled at the fountain, the shimmering night lights,
and lack of cold.
we stood outside embarcadero
watched a group of what looked like
a group of coworkers in business casual
being given a hokey cable car tour
there wasn't much more
we could possible do or say
at least not on that perfect february day
we stood watching/smiling
said our goodnights,
got on separate last trains
but we chased the same moonlight...
Track Name: Trees
the woman who took pictures at my birth
died today
and right after i heard
i stopped at the top of a hill
and i looked out
over the dry, dead, new england april landscape
tried to tell myself
"those trees are just waiting...
c'mon trees!
wake up and reach!"

i tried to get the wind to carry
the green out of this sleep

so everyone who has trouble waking
everyone who's wondering why they're crying
everyone who can't put it into writing
don't worry, chill out, you're probably just waiting

so reach like the trees!
reach like the trees!

we might just find
with your new leaves:
new work
to carry us out of the murk
Track Name: River
back by the slow black river
one memory of this place just blends with another...
the photo of me on a deck with a book in hand
when growing up this way was so unplanned
the halloween after elliott smith died
the way the rain fell making the woods like they had cried
the time my toy elephant fell into the rushing water
and dad jumped in to rescue it- my savior
that august night when we stayed at the monastery
and walked in the dark, though she thought the lightless roads were scary
it's so, so-o-o dark
back by the slow black river
no sounds but crickets and the rolling water
we always stayed in the neighborhood of the log cabin inn
after taking our stereotypical northwest family
forest green subaru outback for a spin...
then during my first fall away from home
after i'd flown to the east coast to roam
i got an e-mailed newspaper headlining page
and its contents filled me with temporary rage
it said that the inn had burned to the ground
so there it was- my childhood was lost...
but now i'm reclaiming it,
bit by bit
we're staying in a cabin that's almost new
and i'm awake, watching the river turn from black to blue
Track Name: Valley
it was a familiar scene
in good ol' eugene
out in front of the current coffee shop
there was a girl with crazy hippy face paint
and a punk-rock hairdo,
just over the wrong side of the tracks
there was a homeless dude
with a dalmation
and an awesome family
with two mommies and a precocious, tree climbing child
it was a familiar scene
in good ol' eugene
they're always playing bill callahan,
do they know his mom lives here?
wait, why the fuck do i know that bill callahan's mom lives here?
so eventually
we walked all around
all around downtown
went to corner natural food store
to buy a monster cookie
from a ghost of a local company
and well, we talked about EVERYTHING

this is where and what we need to be
seeing expansive mountains and saturated green
being excited about everything!

we can sit out here under the fruit trees
we can top the hill with the buzzing bees
we can look out over our fair city!
and all its twilight beauty!
we can be artists in residence
with exceptional elegance
we can love an old house at first sight!
we can read children's stories by flashlight!
we can bake biscotti and carrot cakes
we can make a movie all in single takes
yeah its easier, easier than it seems
and you and i, we make a pretty good team!
we can fall all over the cluttered bed
your dog barks, we wonder what she said
we can plan travels to foreign lands
we can make things with our hands!
we can make a dinner all from your garden
how would you rate this wine from one to ten?
we can share this life bite for bite!
we can pick raspberries through a broken fence at first light!
Track Name: Dinosaur
our meeting place
was by the old concrete dinosaur
it was big when we were children
and its still really big now
i somehow remembered it being on a patch of sand
but that night it had its own miniature swampland

so we sat
on the grass
about 10 feet away
you'd brought a mason jar
full of hot peppermint tea
and we drank it

a distant baseball game created hushed racket
and you even had an ancient blanket
warmed by it, we stared up at the moon
the big, circular, and perfect moon
and its doppelganger-
the reflection in the swamp puddles

so after 45 minutes
we walked
over to the old skate bowl
and after lighting wicks on top of wax
collaborated on a mural

i drew the moon and the starry sky, but not from life!
and you drew a dinosaur on his own planet,
which strikingly resembled a turnip!

we stood in the skate bowl for a moment
admiring our work
i wondered "what will the skater dudes think in the morning?"
then i wondered "how many people ever
wonder what skater dudes will think in the morning?" ...

then carefully you blew out the candles,
then accidently spilled hot wax on your ankles.
Track Name: Alright, Batshit Crazy Postal Worker Lady
ALRIGHT, disgruntled batshit crazy postal worker lady-
i'm not sorry
for making mail that's artsy
you don't need to tell me
to write the return address
in the upper left-hand corner
can't you see
that wouldn't work
no no no not aesthetically?
are you actually going to charge me
twenty cents extra
because this envelope is too narrow?
you know what's too narrow?
your mind-
i bet you watch conservative t.v. all the time
ALRIGHT, disgruntled postal worker lady-
i think you're batshit crazy
and i'm not sorry
for making mail that's artsy
o my god you're actually getting out that letter-size-measuring thing
and explaining it to me
and as you do its hurting my faith in humanity
but maybe
we, yeah everyone who might be listening
can make the two thousand teens
as exciting
as the 1920s or the 1960s
but instead of ending
in a decade of depression
or polyester clothing
we'll explore our attics
and be inspired by the relicts!
we'll plant gardens
then actually maintain them!
Track Name: Free Drinks On The Lawn
faces fade, blend and blur
the way moonlight gets pushed around
on bodies of water
gathered around a bench
pushed to the center
of a vast body of grass
each second is a snapshot,
a slow film reel
arms over shoulders
kisses on lips
jugs passed from one to the next

these people will never
come together
in this exact combination again
and what is particularly beautiful
is we're all painfully aware
to the point where we don't even care

someone busts out the sparklers
they crackle and explode
like a briefly flicked on strobe
and as the authorities come
armed only with flashlights
we run in circles, arms out,
and nearly take flight

there's just too many of us
there's just too many of us
there's just too many of us
we disperse into the darkened corners
then re-converge
i stand on the bench
hold up the rossi
this is my chance to make a shakespearean war ralley
i say "these drinks may be temporary
but they are on this lawn
they are free
and we are free!"

and college, well, it sure as hell was not free
but i'm glad we concluded it so ridiculously
Track Name: Aloud
the wind blew the longest grass, it swished and swayed
i could see oregon's coast in every blade
i was nearly knocked over but kept my ground
then sang aloud into all the other sounds

well my dad wrote something in 1965
about how the future is like sticking your hand into a beehive
now i have body image issues cos i used to be fat
he drinks too much and thinks he can hide that

now i've never been scared of what might come out
but it took 5 years of song writing to finally open my mouth
in O-three i looked up their demo policy
then imagined them sitting around making fun of me

for trying to sound too much like morrissey
now i can't write a good song without using profanity
maybe its just my way of expressing sincerity
well i found myself getting hit in the face

by wind so strong it was like the blow-dryers at a self-service dog-wash place
but i opened it up
and sang ALOUD

the wind blew the longest grass, it swished and swayed
i could see oregon's coast in every blade
so i looked into this future and saw the sand
the august sky, and us holding hands
Track Name: This Side Of Paradise
you can tell you can tell you can tell
just by looking at me
that i've read all of fitzgerald
every novel, every story, every essay, and every letter
there's just just just no one better

and of course at 23
i'd have a poignant rereading
of my favorite book
and start to see my own life between
its well designed lines

at this point we're at the top of the haystack
there's no one else around
and if there were we'd have left them down
on the ground
but isn't it sweet?
that we're not in maryland in 1919!?
you don't live with your grandfather,
waiting to be married off
yeah, you get to choose
and i don't drink too much booze!
isn't it sweet?

at this point we're on top of the haystack
there's no one else around
and isn't it sweet?
well the night is coming
the storm is growing fast
you say "i want to see your face"
i say "i want this to last"
hey hey hey there-
you're eleanor to my amory
and now i can see...

but hey, are we sure this a good idea?
an open flame on top of hay?
well it might be dangerous
but i think, i think we'll be okay, yeah,
look up at the rain -
hey hey hey there-
you're eleanor to my amory
and now, at last, we can see...

we can see