This song is another blast from my significantly less-polished musical past. As the title suggests, I was quite bored, and this is off the top of my head, stone-cold sober freestyling using an instrumental downloaded off of LimeWire (may the good Lo
Reuben Walton is an artist and songwriter originally from Cape Cod, MA and currently based in Falmouth, MA. His work spans multiple genres with a popcentric foc
Reuben Walton is an artist and songwriter originally from Cape Cod, MA and currently based in Woods Hole, MA. His work spans multiple genres with a pop-centric focus.
A graduate of UMass Lowell and Sturgis Charter Public School, Walton's involvement in music has been a longterm passion with a steady shift towards original material beginning in high school. From his beginnings with choral ensembles, avant garde lo-fi dadaist compositions and earnest cover songs, to his free-flowing explorations of hip hop, atmospheric R&B and plaintive pop melodies, Walton brings a unique perspective that is both vulnerable and playful, his vocals and ear for melody and rhythm forming much of the common element unifying his body of work. His modest career highlights have included performances at UMass Lowell's annual Mothers of Rock concert and various venues in Southeastern Massachusetts and the Greater Boston area.
Currently he is in the process of assembling a short EP with producer AVLI Music of Avli Music Productions in Woodland Hills, CA, in addition to working on a variety of side projects and collaborations.
Story behind the song
This song is another blast from my significantly less-polished musical past. As the title suggests, I was quite bored, and this is off the top of my head, stone-cold sober freestyling using an instrumental downloaded off of LimeWire™ (may the good Lord rest their soul). The instrumental is the instrumental for Mario's song "Let Me Love You (Remix feat. Jadakiss and T.I.)". My vocals for "Bored Up in This Room" were recorded via my MacBook's built-in microphone in my dorm room in the Berklee College of Music dorms on Massachusetts Avenue in Boston, MA, when I was staying there for the 2007 Five Week Summer Performance Program when I was 16 and was disillusioned with the program because of all the obsessive emphasis on technical virtuosity and my feelings of inadequacy in light of that. In retrospect I should've done the program with voice as my primary instrument instead of guitar, since it seemed like everyone else there for guitar was shredding up a storm while I at that time mostly just liked playing chords while I sang. But I didn't know what I didn't know, and hindsight is always 20/20. For some reason I made my vocals sound somewhat like they were coming in over a telephone or weirdly compressed or filtered in some way, I think wanting to make sure that my voice could be heard over the beat. When I was recording this I was occasionally wary of the possibility of my two roommates coming in and hearing me, since I had headphones on while recording so I could hear the beat and it wouldn't be playing in the background of the vocals like in some of my other lesser recording setups. So anytime I thought I heard thumping or noise that wasn't coming in over my headphones I would think they were about to open the door and come into the room, and I would briefly get all quiet and embarrassed. This song was originally uploaded to my SoundClick page at www.soundclick.com/bands/default.cfm?bandID=541671&content=music&songcount=107&offset=0¤tPage=2 on Wednesday 9/26/2007 and was listed as part of my "Blunt Juice" album, before it was later included on this album, Refinery. I think I had originally intended for it to be on "Blunt Juice - Disc 1", since I hadn't yet decided at that point to make it a double-disc album, which didn't end up panning out anyway due to me being busy with school at Sturgis Charter Public School in Hyannis, MA, United States and with other musical projects. So by the time this was released on my album Refinery it was almost four years old. The artwork for this song is a very dim and low-resolution picture taken on the evening of Tuesday 9/11/2007 of my friends Jocelyn Laurie (right, 17) and Amber Scanlan (left, 17) with Jocelyn sitting on the edge of the passenger side window and Amber with the driver's side door open, showing how we had jimmy-rigged (or fixed in a makeshift way) Amber's windshield wipers since it was raining and they weren't working. We did it by tying shoelaces together and tying one two big strings of shoelaces tied together to the windshield wiper, so it could be pulled back and forth across the windshield manually through the cracked open driver and passenger side windows by the driver and passenger. True to form, there are a number of references and notable meanings in the lyrics which I will explain here. The lyric “biting the rye like Madonna” is actually a reference to the lyric “Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye” from Don McLean’s classic song “American Pie” off of his 1971 album American Pie. However, because I was born in 1991, my first encounter with this song was when Madonna released a cover version of it in March 2000 to promote the soundtrack of her film The Next Best Thing (2000), on which it was featured. My lyric “I don’t care, even if it is cliché I will rap the muthafuckin’ way that I want” is there because for a long time I felt that there was a perception that local rappers are supposed to not emulate the
Lyrics
Verse 1:
Reuben Walton: Damn, damn, damn, there’s so much bass on the track, it might explode/might explode like a dick, and I’m really not even high, I’m just so fuckin’ bored up in this room/bored up in the croom, bored up in thy room, bored up in thy coom, board up ya house, board up lights s—fuck it/wait, wait, wait, there’s the high-pitched sound goin’ higher and higher/higher like a kite in the sky, higher like a bite in the rye/biting the rye like Madonna, smokin’ marijuana like Shawnna/it—the rapper, the rapper stab her/stab her in the back like a rapper/stab her in the capper/stab her cap her and cap her/scra—(pause) gotta get to the beat and I don’t care, even if it is cliché I will rap the muthafuckin’ way that I want/in the car, hauntin’ the house/hauntin’ the mrouse/lookin’ like a mouse out straight out the house straight out the South/even though I’m not from the South well technically I’m from South Falmouth/but they don’t call it that they call it WoHo/or Woods Hole as the old-timers like to say, P-Dub done shut the track down/so get the fuck up how you gonna act now?/wait, wait there’s another space/comin’ up in the back of the place/but wait, I can still rap even when I don’t hear the beat so fucka please/I’m like, w-whatever that girl’s name was, the one who showed Amber that CD/Ain’t No Other Crystal, Crystal, Crystal, Crystal Meth, Crystal Crystal Merry Crystal Methmas/smokin’ Crystal Meth at night/smokin’ Crystal Meth in the dark at night/with the mart on the dark smokin’ creeks in the dark/lookin’ like Princess Superstar/I’m such a superstar, I’m such a superstar/got hooters har, where are the hooters are?/they’re on your chest, silly, where the fuck did you think they were?/Think they were in the bird? Lookin’ like a bird at night with a turd/eatin’ a turd like a muthafuckin’ jit chink and eatin’ all the words/eatin’ all the words straight out of your mouth/(pause) gotta take a drink, gotta take a tink, gotta think, gotta think wait/hope my roommates don’t come in the room ageen/and I really just mispronounced that so I could make it rhyme, make it time, make it high, make it fly/make it flyer than a nigga err straight out the South, straight out the wouth, wait I just said that, what am I talkin’ about?/and the hook goes…
Chorus:
Pre-made instrumentals, yeah that’s how it goes/oh my God there’s thumping, I really hope nobody comes home/
Verse 2:
Yeah, I’m a bad ass mutha wit a big fat rag/got these niggas…while I toss it up/wait I stole that from DSD the band from the South, the ones that are even cornier than Khia on the mic/higher liah riah higher than a kite/higher than a kite, higher than a white guy at a rite/kinda morning wreallih cleanin’ the pipes/cleanin’ the rithe, cleanin’ the fipes, cleanin’ like the height/cleanin’ the Heights in Falmouth Heights with the rights/the right, Johnny kite, Johnny Cash/Johnny Cash can lick my ass and lick my fasten crap/craf and crap, craf and rats/Eighty-Six can do that too, they suck cock more than a fuckin’ grew/grew and grew, grew the shit, been to been through, what you know about blue, nigga?/Eiffel CC five in the rye/covered with Eiffel 65 like it’s 2000 all over again/in the back of the hen, back of the ren, back of the cleb/back of the cren, back of the quen and you know what when? When?/Gwen Stefani is so hotty and the chronny in the body, dot a little little lotty/and I already said that in one of my other songs, B/but I really don’t care and really don’t care if you try to mention me/cut his head, cut it right off and put it on a stick/parade it around the house ‘cause she’s takin’ a shit/really actin’ in the club, lookin’ magic in the bub/every rap nigga hub, and I’m walkin’ around in hella hub/in the bore hub, in the whore bub/mmm, (catches breath) yeah I didn’t say anything, didn’t say anything to the brats/didn’t say anything to the cat but I really don’t talk to cats/even when I’m high I don’t really talk to cats I just chill smoke and rol
