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Northern Spy Records

Door Girl

by Shilpa Ray

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  • Streaming + Download

    Pre-order of Door Girl. You get 1 track now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released.
    releases September 22, 2017

      $9.99 USD  or more

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Limited edition white 12" vinyl in gatefold sleeve.

    Includes digital pre-order of Door Girl. You get 1 track now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released.
    digital album releases September 22, 2017
    item ships out on or around September 21, 2017
    edition of 200 

      $24.99 USD or more 

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    12" vinyl in gatefold sleeve

    Includes digital pre-order of Door Girl. You get 1 track now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released.
    digital album releases September 22, 2017
    item ships out on or around September 21, 2017

      $24.99 USD or more 

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Includes digital pre-order of Door Girl. You get 1 track now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released.
    digital album releases September 22, 2017
    item ships out on or around September 21, 2017

      $13.99 USD or more 

     

1.
New York Minute Prayer
2.
Morning Terrors Nights of Dread
3.
Revelations of a Stamp Monkey
4.
Add Value Add Time
5.
6.
After Hours
7.
Shilpa Ray's Got a Heart Full of Dirt
8.
Manhattanoid Creepazoids
9.
Rockaway Blues
10.
You're Fucking No One
11.
This is Not a Dream Sequence
12.
My World Shatters by the BQE

about

Girls Are Free.

That’s what it says on a makeshift sign on the wall above Shilpa Ray’s head on her latest record, Door Girl. Sometimes in life it helps to take the signs one encounters literally. Girls are free to make mistakes. Girls are free to come and go. Girls are free of all those preconceived notions attached to what it is to be a girl. Gazing with a mixture of serenity and weary imperiousness beneath that sign is Shilpa Ray. Door Girl takes as its titular inspiration her time working the door at Lower East Side bar Pianos, its reputation one of hard-scrabble survival and the inspiration of desperation. Shilpa Ray has seen it all.

Girls are free to bear witness.

“Shilpa Ray Stars as Door Girl” beckons from the cover of Door Girl in pink neon - reminiscent of nothing less than the pink lipstick that spells out New York Dolls on the cover of their similarly explosive record. The seething frenzy of a feeding frenzy - the hallmark of closing time desperation - whirls around her on the cover, people moving past so quickly that they become a smear of obscurity even as she watches everything by the door. Or is it merely normal life, speeding across her hemisphere in that blasé and banal way that yields few treasures except those that only the most perceptive of all possible artists can dig out? Her song titles are gems that glitter with scorn - “Shilpa Ray’s Got a Heart Full of Dirt,” “You’re Fucking No One,” and “Morning Terrors Nights of Dread,” to name a few - and underscore how extortionately rare good song titles truly are.

Girls are freed.

Her voice - singular in modern popular music because of its radiant imperfection - takes neither prisoners nor guff as it offers up continuous caustic commentary on the human condition. Hers are observations gleaned from endless nights watching people in their natural habitat. These arenot pretty pictures, shot through as they are with violence in the obvious and menace in the failures. Alternately dreamlike and lifelike, Door Girl carves out its portraits of nightlife with reverberation and feedback, unveiling an expansive level of production quality through which even the perfectly-recorded snare drum is as present and as crisp as the bad breath of the drunk falling asleep at your elbow. Each instrument is so clearly defined in the presentation as to become one of those selfsame dive bar habitués on which Shilpa Ray shines a stark Klieg light of absolute truth. It is the story of a city as it lives and breathes at its most basic levels, as told by an artist who is equal parts musician and magician and for whom each song is a different life she has lived and breathed and experienced like few others have.

- David Cotner

credits

releases September 22, 2017

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Shilpa Ray Brooklyn, New York

Nobody grows up wanting to be an artist’s artist. Appreciated by the sub sect of the sub sect is like being the beauty queen at the leper colony.

contact / help

Contact Shilpa Ray

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Track Name: EMT Police and the Fire Department
I’m gonna tell you a story about a hot summer night
At a bar in the Lower East Side
The air was so thick you could cut it with a knife
The sweating crowds so thick it could make you want to cut them with a knife
The rats and the roaches
Crawling out in drove straight out of the sewage pipes
And sanitation may have been on strike
It was the night when someone called the EMT the Police and the Fire Dept.

EMT POLICE THE FIRE DEPARTMENT
EMT POLICE THE FIRE DEPARTMENT
EMT POLICE THE FIRE DEPARTMENT

It was the night you got your stomach pumped
Vodka Bullshit Long Island Ice Tea

When you yuppies become Drunk Ass Punks
Post hedge funds post surgeries

The time you said I’d better lawyer up
Vomiting while you threaten to sue me

All Hail The Golden Calf
when LES puts the blame on the STATE OF NEW JERSEY

EMT POLICE THE FIRE DEPARTMENT

Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh

And I’m charging 8 bucks
To go to hell It’s straight up the stairs.
I’m charging 8 bucks
To go to hell. It’s straight up the stairs. To got to hell

Racist Barbie’s wasted, sippin’ from straws
Holler holler’s ‘bout the back door fees

Ken’s slippin' 50’s, he’s got privilege son
To melt like wax in debauchery

I watch the zombies hump the tetanus floors
In protest of going home with nobody

Fights break cracking bottles on skulls
I watch like the Moses of a loser’s ANARCHY

EMT POLICE THE FIRE DEPARTMENT

Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh Wa-oh

These are not the best minds of my generation
Destroyed by madness
Hysterical naked

These are not the best minds of my generation
Destroyed by madness
Hysterical naked

These are not the best minds.