Bar Talk in a Flat

by Welterweight

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Latest 5 song EP


released December 1, 2013

Doug Cowan acoustic guitar, keyboards, vocals, slide steel guitar, nervous nelly
John Nunan percussion, backing vocals, melatron, a cool head
Greg Bjork mandolin, backing vocals, secret weapon
Tom Kubasik bass, backing vocals, all the right notes

Recorded and mixed by Todd Hutchisen at Acadia Recording
Mastering by Chris Watknison
Artwork by John Nunan
Duplication by Crooked Cove
All songs copyright Plucksongs 2013,
except “ Bein’ Green” by Joe Raposo (Permission by Jonico Music, publisher),
musical inspiration for Harper Lee by Jon York



all rights reserved


Welterweight Portland, Maine

Welterweight exists in the world of not-quite-adult oriented music. Professionals might call it prolonged adolescence alongside a little arthritis, both influencing these loud/quiet storytellings of childhood, betrayal, longing, and dumb decisions. Singer/songwriter Doug Cowan, born and bred in rural Maine, survived on K-Tel Hits albums until discovering his brother’s record collection... ... more

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Track Name: Last House on a Dead End Street
Last House on a Dead End Street
I’m the last house on a dead end street
Woman and children are the first to leave
My hermitage almost complete
I’m the last house on a dead end street

Ain’t growing old with grace
Mary, Margaret or even faith
A little house and a lotta space
I’m overgrown to throw you shade

Hey you kid (miss), get off of my lawn
Step a foot on my porch, and you’re gone (aw come on)
In the distance, you little pissants (all miscreants)
Ya got it all wrong/ just (tryin’to) get-a-long

Grand dad had that Nashville sound
Stereo console hand-me-down
The good book props it off the ground
It’s a good look, finally found

Used to drive a cab in a circle slip
Drove that car right off the grid
Droppin’ off what I coulda kept
Even Bhudda ran on his wife and kid
Track Name: Seller's Remorse
Seller’s Remorse
My tattooed tears ran/ Like sad mascara
I’m just such a man/ for cryin’ out loud at ya
But I do give a damn/ Like Scarlet O’Hara
I’m such a big fan/ And frankly just scared of ya

That’s tough, I know/as I punch the tears on my pillow
My fabric’s all for show

I’m the comeback kid/ an Indian taker
Even you must admit/ I looked pretty good on paper

What we have/ of course/ is a case of seller’s remorse
Sorta planned/ obsolescence/ a cheap clasp on a fine necklace
That’s bound/ to get lost/ and found no matter the cost
Could call/ it a pattern/ like circles in the satin
Track Name: Old Spice
Old Spice
Well I wear Old Spice
‘cause I want the old school
To smell me down the hall
Get a whiff of something cool
I’m already 17
But they like to call me junior
It’s like the parting of the seas
When I walk into their rumor

Smile/ telling me to smile <their cruddy smile>
But they can’t make me crack/ my face might stay like that
And I/ I reckon I
Will get that office call/ a good talkin’ to is all I need

I got a rattlesnake belt
Hitchin’ up my jeans
They like to tell me how I felt
When they started pullin’ teeth
But I’m just a skinny boy
With a plastic grenade
Barely outta Tinker Toys
Wait and see the mess I make
Well…Old Spice…something cool
I’m just a skinny boy
Barely up to welterweight
Can’t believe the stinkin’ joy
From my Bic Pen…sulfur…matchstick…grenade
Track Name: Harper Lee
Harper Lee

With your artificial tears
A sweet saline pollution
That waters down your beer
Swept away by easy solution

Leaving all the lights on
Brighten shadows, yah she’s real gone
She got real gone
She’s really gone

Be a stretch to call you friend
Cord’s diminished and shortenin’
But that phones all alone/
and I’m dying for that tone
says you’re hooked and off with him

Like Harper Lee
Chances are none
Down on both knees
But she only gives one