by Pete Jon

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Sciotopaint The lyrics hit, the twang is on time, the craftsmanship is apparent on a song style that many other artists would fall flat on Favorite track: devil got his eye on me.
Will Amato
Will Amato thumbnail
Will Amato My first purchase through Bandcamp. Nice stuff.
Philippe Tremblay
Philippe Tremblay thumbnail
Philippe Tremblay insanely good. refreshing. Favorite track: party line.
Clayton Giles
Clayton Giles thumbnail
Clayton Giles This musician mines the richness of traditional folk-blues while exploring 21st century sounds. Found-sounds, samples and all sorts of other goodies find their way into the tunes. His lyrics and clever word-plays hit hard. An album I'll be listening to a lot. Favorite track: devil got his eye on me.
Aaron Miller
Aaron Miller thumbnail
Aaron Miller I had the privilege of hearing this album from it's initial release, so I wish to be clear as I write this 5 years later: I am STILL finding new symbolism, meaning, and inspiration in the words contained herein. I admit that this album is, in some ways, extremely contextual and impenetrable. In other ways it is so heartfelt and embracing that anyone willing to engage with it will find something incredibly rewarding. Please listen. It is so worth your time. Favorite track: new body.
Nora_Go thumbnail
Nora_Go Pete’s words catalyze me to pray and see. Amazing album and artist!
  • Digital Album
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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Originally recorded to 1/4" tape, this analog record features stripped down guitar-and-vocal folk arrangements of the album Necrobisect. Due to the time constraints of the medium, the song "Indiana" is not included on the record. The packaging includes an art card insert with a download code for the digital album, streamed here, featuring more elaborate arrangements built around the original tape recording. My hope in writing Necrobisect was that it could be enjoyed two ways, in the sparse intimacy of an analog medium as well as in the exuberant, somewhat haphazard framework of found-sound collage and electro-rock'n'roll.

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  • Poster/Print + Digital Album

    Well wouldn't you just love this full bleed glossy B&W heavy stock 11 1/2" x 11 12" art card to hang on your wall? Featuring the iconic Necrobisect text "it came out of the ground, through our mouth and into our body" in awkward script over an intriguingly dead couple, this is the perfect conversation piece for impressing a date or graduate student. Full lyrics, album download code, and tasty bits of gossip included on the reverse side.

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  • Full Digital Discography Full Digital Discography

    Get all 4 Pete Jon releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of joyride // deathdrive, Some Tender F*cking Success, no hard rain, and Necrobisect. , and , .

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Necrobisect is about death, separation, and the American wet dream. The basic tracking of simple, stripped-down guitar and vocal performances were recorded on a 4 track reel-to-reel and shipped off to be mastered and cut onto vinyl. The digital tracks available here incorporate a more elaborate arrangement of many found sounds, digitally manipulated and transformed into instrumentation and collage.

Many thanks to the good people at Peter Claver Catholic Worker, Our Lady of the Road, and the Healing River Retreat Center in South Bend, Indiana for affording me the time and space to write these songs from November, 2013 to May, 2014. Thank you Kate Heflick, Gus Bennett, Kelsey Garrity Riley, Erik Riley, Melissa Taylor Jenkins at Katastrophic, Chris Faroe, Rachel Laitman, Jon Schommer, Mim Stoner, Mitch Bradford, and Rachel Leigh for your help, advice, encouragement, and friendship along the way.

Also, thank you to everyone who backed my crowd-funding campaign to make this album--you are too many to name but I could not have done it without you.

"A masterpiece" - Gus Bennett, US Navy


released September 18, 2014

Trumpet on “I’m almost free” by Zach Huckel-Bauer
Tenor Sax on "I'm almost free" by Kyle Schweizer
Some drum samples on “devil got his eye on me” by Jordan Hamrick
Choral work on "the philosopher ii" by the Firth Family Choir

Voice samples of Ian Spink and Sandy Bennett on “(all my channels are open)” and Jen Betz on “indiana” used with permission.

Additional rehearsal samples on "indiana" by Jon Schommer and the Town Cuties

Mastered by Howard Givens

Artwork by Kelsey Garrity Riley and Erik Riley




Pete Jon Lansing, Michigan

Pete Jon is a singer-songwriter and collaborative producer in the DIY tradition.

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Track Name: party line
I got no party line
got no party line
just a broken heart
and a troubled mind
I think in epigrams
I write with a slanted rhyme
and I’ve been too low
to find me a party line

I see them war machines
half off at the five and dime
buy you a gun now
ape you a war crime
they’re all down at the party place
don’t you know it’s party time?
now they’re live on camera
rubbing out their party line

rally up this America
with a fleeting sound
every word, it’s an epitaph
ash in the mouth
a fleeting sound

I was born in my father’s house
I am my mother’s child
and I saved my soul
on the banks of the Idlewild
I hit the road too young
was an itch that I had to find
was a voice of a god—
“be a man, now, pick a side

“o kind child of mine
you ain’t the fighting kind
but you got your tongue
saccharine and serpentine
you piss on Porphyry
you got no party line
and you pop your wafer
in the nick of time.”

bless me now
I am a free man
free to suck off the dick
of the paradigmatically man
I eat from his hand
and don’t you work his land
and don’t we all dance
for a crumb of his contraband?

I saw them war machines
turn into holy books
every canon’s a prophecy
every drone’s a philosopher
every dream is a wet one
went and got me a private room
you can rent you a coffin
kitchenette and a street view

every day it’s America
went and got me some lighter skin
still I been too low
to get me out partying
when I die, ain’t no prayer for me
every prayer is a parody
lay me down in the Quiet
unrippled by your sophistry

Jesus, is there room
in your house for a child so bitter?
the Man come out my mouth
with every sound
but I would not be fool enough
to turn you down
if you were to let me in your bed
or if you lay me to the Ground

I got no party line
no party line
you can keep your jesus
I’ll keep mine crucified
I’ll have mine Chicken-fried
kick back with a glass of wine
and I’ll put my Pen
straight up your party line
Track Name: devil got his eye on me
I will choose my battles
devil got his eye on me

I will pull my own trigger
devil got his eye on me

I will shoot your locks in
I will hunt your loved ones
I will take your dirty money
golden boy, you blessed son
devil got his eye on me

I make the rules now, rich boss
I make the rules now, rich boss
you can rot in the Cage
you got rich off
facefucking fancyfree
frilled up in your finery
corpse in a Three-Piece

I will choose my battles
and my weapons are
the birds and the bees
and my weapons are my hands
and my knees
and the eye of the devil
is a deathly decree
and the devil got his eye on me
Track Name: the philosopher ii
the Drone swung low
like an angel gone awry
with a cool precision
wiped every tear from our eye

the philosopher
from the Quiet of her room
saw the soft unfolding
of my body in its bloom

she came for me!
she came for us all!
in reams of gold!
a blaze of color!
you hold me now!
the palm of your mind!
the lips of you sight!
your tongues of fire!

and the streets were filled
with the children of our love
half-formed, stillborn,
unlimbed, and in blood

how fragile, flesh!
how easily it cleaves
in the still caresses
of her Brain at a Screen

it comes for you!
the shape of desire, remotely drawn
you Noble Rider
you have me now!
Sweet Charioteer
you Beast of Burden
great Fist of your Fear

the Drone swung low
on the wings of a turtledove
and a voice from the TV cried,
“This my Child, whom I love”

and the sound it made—
a million violent violins—
with a cool precision
slit the length of our skin

o my love—

you came for us!
you came for your own!
o holy Zion!
o holy Babylon!
philosopher, flamboyant and grave
your crypt of rubble
passionate grip of your Gaze!

you have me now!
you can have it all!
Track Name: indiana
back home to Indiana
back home to Indiana
beat a stone for water
feed on quail and manna
I look into the future
and I put it in my planner
guvner got his mantra
like a pharaoh got his scepter
or the jobless got their manners
at home, in Indiana

I watched the waves,
I saw them part
I know the law of the Lord
who wrote it on the stone of my heart
these strip malls and bigboxstores
this what we left little Goshen for?
that foreign town where I was born—

there’s a Tree out the window
don’t no one know
what that Tree grows
good ol’ Tree of goods and evils
it beckons with its contours
and with the way the wind blows
quiet, suggestive Signals
hung heavy with icicles
sounds a Whistle and a Crackle

mr. pence, you can suck my Name
ah you liberals can suck the same
there’s a fire in the mountain range
an army waiting in the wing
parkbench and prisoncage
go ask the dust where we all go
mores and million-dollar homes
peoplepets and pleasuredomes
etiquettes and antiphones

back home in Indiana
back home in Indiana
I’d die to see some Mountains
rising up from some Water
hope I live to hear that impossible
Silence in all this grammar
I’d crawl inside the Uterus
of that mystical Mammal
on the edge of Indiana

there’s cool kids all around
the cool kids got this town
they dug their underground
they’re proud of what they founded
they sing a decent sound

you keepers of the Modern State
you swingers of the Modern Sword
you’d have me buy your Real Estate
you’d put it in my Shopping Cart
you’d drone it to my Garden Gate

you chiseled out some lenses
and you put us all on camera
you watch the words I think in
like a frightened, fisty father
you’re selling Indiana
like some overripe Banana
this desert that I live
in my Silence and my Drivel
since the Babylonians discovered
just how few Fucks I give

I’m standing at the mountain pass
I’m staring at the Promised Land
won’t settle with the keeping class
go Fuck yourself some other ass
go find yourself a real Man
I ain’t the man you think I am

back home in Indiana
back home in Indiana
stick out like a sore thumb
and all you got’s a hammer

I would not be a part of this Body
but the Bird that picks it cleanly
a Pin to pop your wet dreaming
neither cog nor lever
but the Spanner in your machinin’
go find yourself some other semen

when I die, I’ll bless the Lord
blink and I’ll become a Gourd
some Pumpkingod
crawling with worms
rotted, mute, and pumpkinwarm
go Fuck yourself some other form
go find yourself some other sperm
Track Name: party boys
ah you party boys
you good ol’ party boys
with your overwrought bisection
in a two-party erection,
protect your colorful confections
with an entire
department of corrections
ah you pithy, poignant, petty
party boys

now you’re down at the party place
don’t you know it’s party time
and you wear that party face
and you do that party line
glad-handing party-coy
you puppet-party-toy
don’t you know there is only one Party
you pretty party boys

I sing hell with the tacky smile
hell with the quick fix
hell with the platforms
hell with the sweet perfume you piss
hell with your siren sound
I am the Siren now
boozing fools on a party cruise
I fully intend to take you down

ah you party boys!
you precious party boys
how you gather in the glade
to shade this
cheap facade you’ve made
in all God’s Country you’ve surveyed
(sipping vodka-lemonade)
you got a videogame for a brain
where you play me
who will not be played
oh you pithy, poignant,
good ol’ party boys
hell with your party shirt
hell with your dental work
hell with your limp peg
fucking hell
with the tail between your legs
hell with your serpent cum
I am the Serpent’s Tongue
I’ll cut a platitude in half
for every jizzy tune you hum

I sing hell with your death toll
hell your remote control
hell with your figurehead
hell with your World Wide Web
fucking diddle of a mid-life
I am the Little Death
I come to titillate your middle
with a song of a scythe

I sing hell with your pipeline
hell with your gunchime
I ain’t impressed with your tar sands
ain’t arrested by the size of your hands
fucking hell with your funny bone
I am the Devil’s Tone
blowing ditties from your whistle
mouthing missives in your gristle

I sing blessed are the cocksick,
bullshat, motherfucked
blessed are the wardead
bluelipped, upchucked
blessed those mined for their guts
and tossed out in a heap
blessed all nonverbal
blessed those with skin disease

blessed are the Godless
blessed are the Meek
blessed are the digitless,
paperless, wireless, toothless
blessed all internally displaced
blessed every casualty
of your nation state
Track Name: settle down, my brain
settle down, my brain
though I’ve been under
you will find your way
though you blink and balk and blunder

hear how the old songs awaken
feel how the old loves come alive
in the olden day you will Wonder

you will find your place
though you may not recognize
in an older face
thorough and thoughtful older eyes

you and your ol’ mausoleum
you and your ol’ heart of bone
settle down, my brain—
you are not alone
Track Name: new body
(for karis)

what will it take to be holy?
what will it take to be holy
here and now?
there’s an urgency! here and now—

tape over our Mouth
veil over our Eye

what will your New Body?
what will your New Body be
on the other side?
will you leap like a Lion?
will you be unburdened—a Butterfly?
what will your New Body?
how will your old Injury come alive?
how will you wear your Organs?

here and now—
ashes that you’ve become
ashes that you’ve won
your brow ashes that you’ve loved
and now—
coals that were your Eyes

I awake my Incision
the nerve endings come alive!
what will it take to be holy?
here and now—

I see blood on the streets
I smell blood in the water
and how—Jesus Christ at my neck
with a scalpel, necrobisect

what will your New Body?
will you be a Waterfowl?
newly birthed without history—
will you be a Barn Owl
in the moonlight?
will you wear it out proudly?
what will it take to be happy
here and now?
Lark, Lambkin, unlonely—

tape over our Mouth
veil over our Eye
Track Name: I'm almost free
I build my house here in this State
where the market’s free
but the people ain’t
blue-eyed machines—the market’s free
but the cost of living been
catching up with me
I make my home; the market’s free
but they’re pawning you
like they’re hawking me
my walls are cold
they’re made of skin
a knife could rend them open

I speak in tongues (to your loin)
I have no words (left to coin)
I know the law of the land
like I know the Law of the Lord
been educated liberally
I cut my teeth on the Man
I’m almost free!
I’m almost dead in my sin
I’m your Wet Dream
baby, my pen is The Next Big Thing
if the Free World comes
looking for a god
I am The Right Tool For the Job

I build my house here in this State
where talk is cheap
but I’m giving it away
they fill their teeth with all this dying
they touch their screen
their faces shine
they’ll fuck you straight
they have no shame
they know your face
they know my name
my walls are cold
they’re made of skin
a knife could rend me open
Track Name: (I am the siren now)
Track Name: police come
police come plainclothed
to take me down
wait on every corner in this town
to take me down
treat you like a sickness
don’t they now?

how much homelessness
can the heart bear?
how much homelessness
can the heart bear?
I’ve made mistakes and I’m sorry—

fuckers got their pain, they bear it out
barcode in my brain, I’m overwhelm
price put on your head, now
out your mouth
don’t out yourself

how much headlessness
can the heart bear?
how much headlessness
can the heart bear?
you know I’ve made mistakes
and I’m sorry!

it came out of the Ground
through our Mouth and into our Body
and all I’ve got’s the lexicon of power
for to twist and stab at the Statue

and where, kind child
will you build your house?
come now, dear soul
put the Coal to your Mouth
come out of your Body and
into the Ground!

police come in pillform
down my throat
come into my brain, you devilgoat
come down my throat
treat me like a sickness, grip and grope
then down my throat
Track Name: animal
forty years, forty years
cut me loose forty years
forty bones in the skin I wear
forty devils at my heels
o my God, been forty years

when I die, when I go
lay me down on the Open Road
fire to purify my bones
then scatter me out on the Open Road
lay me down on the Open Road

I used to pine for New York City
the fume of flesh
oozing from some underground
the sound of bone rattling in an oil can
and the Fuckers’ moans
so meaningless and loud

I miss the nights in Arizona
coyote howling
right beyond the city lines
the smell of dust
the Catalina Mountains
just a-hovering
at the edges of the Mind

when I die, when I go
lay me down on the Open Road
raise you up a glass of rye
if I die before my time
if I die before my time

when I come home to Indiana
I see the fires burning in the alleyway
it’s all we can
to keep us warm this winter
just to flicker
in some dark, forbidden place

call me away, you mighty Mississippi
call me away, you artery of America
green Illinois, blue-eyed Kentucky
let the dead wash their own dead away

New Orleans, hot and sweet
going down to New Orleans
gonna hear the Trumpet sing
hope I die in New Orleans
delta air and the broken beat

and if you go before me, Brother
let Jesus know
I won’t be coming clean
I’ll come in twos
one half dragging the other
like an Animal
that loves where it’s been