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You're All Pedophiles

from The Asphalt and the Sin by The Spreewells

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about

A song whose title always requires an explanation at live shows. It was inspired by an issue of the NME, in which it seemed like every page contained articles by aging journalists salivating over how YOUNG all the hot new artists were.

lyrics

You're All Pedophiles

The demos arrive by the basket
But the sounds are depressingly the same
Is it really too much to ask for
A spotty genius who's voice just changed
And nothing unlocks your delectation
And the pleasures of joys depraved
Than when the new voice of a generation
Has barely started to shave

You're all pedophiles
Your fingers damp on the dials
You got your eye on the scene
If the next Byron or Keats
Sold lemonade on your street
You'd be ever so keen

The newest bedroom baladeer won't finish school for another year
But the comparisons are starting to fly
And his downy upper lip with talent clearly drips
And you lap it up and I know why

Because you're pedophiles
Your fingers damp on the dials
You've got your eye on the scene
If the next Byron or Keats
Sold lemonade on your street
You'd be ever so keen
In your magazine

Sit down boys, time for the interview to start
Now this is where you watch them misbehave and try to act the part
That they've been practicing for all their lives
And you're in heaven, you're in rapture
The future is staring you right between the eyes

The latest female voice from the top of the critics choice
Still has to ask you to buy her a beer
She thinks this is gonna be fun but the poor kid she's the only one
Cos you've already plotted out her career

You're all pedophiles
Your fingers damp on the dials
You got your eye on the scene
If the next Dylan or Pete
Sold lemonade on your street
You'd be walking in a dream

credits

from The Asphalt and the Sin, released February 1, 2014
Rhythm guitar and vocals: Richard Wittman
Lead guitar: Jeff Gross
Bass guitar: Mike Ball
Drums: Joel Joseph
Lyrics and music by Richard Wittman

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The Spreewells Los Angeles, California

The Spreewells make angular energetic music about the modern world. Their name evokes the savage beauty of a certain 1990s NBA star and the noble river that flows through a delicious foreign city. We are: Richard Wittman (voice, rhythm guitar), Jeff Gross (lead guitar; sometimes bass), & Mike Ball (bass; sometimes lead guitar). Drums were played by Milo Todesco and, on Marginalia, by Joel Joseph. ... more

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