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The End Of The World
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Recorded either June or July, 1981 at Quad-Tek Studios (24-track). Lineup: Jerome Faulkner/Jesse Jacobson/David Letwin/Eddie Sena/Robert Teegarden. Produced by The Trend. Engineered by Pat Burnette.
jacobson trend faulkner hardy sena douglass frankel kepler letwin odumosu sauerwein teegarden
Artist picture
Wacky Post-Punk New Wave 70s & 80s Music performed by a bunch of guys who looked like Physics Majors.
The Trend was a unique but, alas, unknown post-punk/new wave rock band from 1979-1981 around the L.A. and Southern California area. Having risen from the dead (well, a prolonged middle age stupor anyway), various ex-members got together three times for a 20 year reunion in 1999, 2000 & 2001 with the plan of producing/releasing a CD retrospective/oral history of their greatest hits that never were, as well as recording songs for a reunion CD! This has yet to be completed a decade later but may yet see the light of day before the end of this decade! Numerous mp3 song downloads, additional vintage and recent photos, fliers, used condoms (just kidding) and inane commentary will be added soon. So stay tuned (not that our guitars ever did)!
Song Info
Genre
Alternative • Post Punk
Charts
Peak #140
Peak in subgenre #4
Author
Jesse Jacobson
Rights
1981 & 2014, BMI
Uploaded
March 20, 2014
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.4 MB • 160 kbps • 3:51
Story behind the song
Written 3/1981. From the final 4-song Trend demo finally recorded in ideal 24-track studio/circumstances in the course of a day. Robert Teegarden (Lead Vocals), Jerome Faulkner (Keyboards, Vocals), Jesse Jacobson (Guitars, Vocals), David Letwin (Bass), Barry Sauerwein (Drums).
Lyrics
there's nothing left...for me there's nothing left...for you we're all dressed up again with nowhere to go no more double features, no more late, late show there's nothing left...for us there's nothing left...for us today all the world is a stage without any props we're both players and audience until the final curtain drops the broken glass, the shattered stone, the hollow ring on your finger the final blow, the piercing scream, the empty oaths still linger walk unlit avenues, each trace of a face, hangs like a specter in this godforsaken place there's nothing left...but you there's nothing left...but me if it's not the end of the world, it's as close as we'll get if we're the survivors, the world may fall yet
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