The songs for Post Modern Man were written and recorded between diaper changes, kiddy parties, recording sessions and live gigs. We had to squeeze time in the studio when and wherever possible with the result being a collection of songs based on the people, personalities, and events that have colored and shaped our journey.

Back to Zero – B20 is about a close friend, my lost “little brother”, who quietly struggled with bouts of depression. “Back to Zero” is a reference to the gains, losses and constant setbacks he suffered as he fought a seemingly endless war between light and dark forces. Ultimately surrendering and forever in the light, this is dedicated to him.

I found a cross on the side of the road. A note on a yellow rose said he lost control but I have my point of view. It’s a long way from home, when you don’t know what you’re looking for.
Do you believe your ghosts are real? Villain or hero? Do the voices in your head welcome you back to zero? Welcome back, back to zero. Yeah, back to zero.
And when I saw the photographs, I cried so hard and then I laughed. Cuz when I think of you, it only makes me smile. It’s a long way from home, when you don’t know what you’re livin’ for.

Do you believe your ghosts are real? Villain or hero? Do the voices in your head welcome you back to zero? Oooh yeah, back to zero.

Sooner or later your world will come around. It’ll come around. And do us all a favor, tell us what you’ve found.

Do you believe your ghosts are real? Villain or hero? Do the voices in your head, welcome you back to zero? Yeah. Back to zero, yeah. Back to zero. Welcome back.

Post Modern Man – I am somewhat of a news junky, checking my “sources” on the hour, every hour. I am not proud to be counted among those enabling the 24-hour “infotainment” news cycle, turning what should be legitimate journalism into a full-fledged reality show. I sometimes wonder what would happen if we collectively rejected boycotting all news outlets in protest…hmmm, maybe I’ll canvass my twitter feed.

But I digress, Post Modern Man is a song about our struggle with modernity and how we must filter out external biases and rely on our own common sense for true north. “What’s hidden from you now, time reveals.”

See him walking the street, he’s a post modern man. Got the world by the throat and he dangles it in his hand. Rich man, poor man, beggar man or thief. It’s hard to tell anymore when they’re lying through their teeth.

You don’t need eyes to see, a voice to speak or touch to feel. What’s hidden from you now, time reveals.

Try to close your eyes and wish it all away. I got news for you – it doesn’t matter what you say. And so far from home and soon to understand, ahh, this is no place for you, an ordinary man.

You don’t need eyes to see, a voice to speak or touch to feel. What’s hidden from you now, time will reveal.

Strung out along the highway the future’s laser bright. But somewhere along the way, we gave up the fight. Yeah, we gave up the fight.

See him walking the streets, he’s a post modern man. And I keep wondering, wondering…is that who I am? Yeah, is that who I am?

You don’t need eyes to see, a voice to speak or touch to feel. What’s hidden from you now, time will reveal. Yeah, time reveals.

Do As You Please – “Do As You Please” sounds like it might be about ambivalence toward a love interest but, in fact, is about my twin daughters. To say they’ve challenged and changed me in all the best ways is putting it mildly. This is my way of simply telling them I don’t need to be the center of their universe. They are individuals free to develop their own interests, beliefs and opinions, and to pursue happiness as they see fit. My job, at least as I see it, is to be their guard rails, coaching and nudging them back in to play when they get knocked off course.

And just in time, I reaped the seeds that I had sown. Yes, I’m aware that I can’t go home again, so count me in. Yeah, count me in. Chill down my spine sent my heart into overdrive. I’ll be lucky if I stay alive ’til dawn. Game on.

Do as you please, I don’t need much from you. And I’m not asking to be the one you’re running to. Do as you please, I don’t need much from you.

All night long I keep my eye on the open door. I’d sleep the night on a cold floor for you. That’s what I do. Don’t wake me from my dream.

Do as you please, I don’t need much from you. And I’m not asking to be the one you’re running to.

Do as you please, I don’t need much from you. I don’t need much from you.
Do as you please, I don’t need much from you. And I’m not asking to be the one you’re running to.

Do as you please, I don’t need much from you. I don’t need much from you.
Now, it’s been said once, and I’ve been told, you’re only going to find out when you’re grey and old. That there’s no such thing as time in a bottle, if you’re going to live life at all, you live it at full throttle.

So, do as you please, I don’t need much from you. And I’m not asking to be the one you’re running to.

Do as you please, I don’t need much from you. I don’t need much from you.
Do as you please, I don’t need much from you. And I’m not asking to be the one you’re running to.

Do as you please, I don’t need much from you. I don’t need much from you.

Afterglow – I lost my father in 2014 with my mother preceding him seven years earlier. His passage was a profound thing to witness. “Afterglow” is written from his perspective as he transitions, saying goodbye to those he’ll leave behind while greeting those who are preparing his way, welcoming him home to the Afterglow.

I’m a simple man trying to understand what’s well known.
Time is no friend to lovers, who all end up alone.
Ah, but luck is on my side today, when they turn their backs I’ll slip away…

to the Afterglow.

I’ve been waiting for so long. And I have to know, will you be there?

Will you be there when the crowds are gone?

And when I rise from the fall and crash the gates of the garden wall and make my way past the faceless crowds that gather here.

Could’ve heard a pin drop on the floor, when they saw me coming through the door.

Afterglow. I’ve been waiting for so long. And I have to know, will you be there? Will you be there?

Afterglow. I’ve been waiting, I’ve been waiting so long. The last to know, but I’m here now, yes I’m here now.

So tell me what I need to know and I’ll take it from here. Reach my hand into the void and disappear.

I do believe it’s time to celebrate. Yes, I believe it’s time.

Afterglow. I’ve been waiting for so long. And it’s good to know, that you’ll be there, yes, you’ll be there.

Afterglow (repeatedly)

 Hard to Find – Living in and around LA, as I have all my life, I have seen a few generations lured here with an abundance of blind ambition. The relentless pursuit of dreams met only with the harsh reality of living in La La Land can leave one feeling lonely and lost. “Hard to Find” is about one such fictional character who finds himself in a local hipster lounge, pondering his prospects.

It’s good to see you again. I’ve come to drown my self-doubt in that bottle of gin. And try as I might, it always puts up a hell of a fight.

Tragic drifters, bearded hipsters, and everybody’s on the phone. LA’s fine, but I wouldn’t call it home. I wouldn’t call it home. Oh, no.

And just what did you have in mind? She said, as she poured another round, “Honey, take your time.” And Time? Ah, it hasn’t been so kind to these –

Tragic drifters, bearded hipsters, and everybody’s on the phone. LA is fine, but I wouldn’t call it home. Cuz there ain’t too many people I would give my good time. Yeah, I’ve been around and they’re hard to find. Hard to find.
Well, I’m tired and broke and fresh out of smoke, so I’ll say goodnight. And make myself hard to find.

Has anybody here seen my keys? Cuz I could swear I put them right here in front of me. Oh, but that’s alright, I can spend all night with these-

Tragic drifters, bearded hipsters, and everybody’s on their own. LA is fine, but I wouldn’t call it home. Cuz there ain’t too many people I would give my good time. Yes, I’ve been around and they’re hard to find. Yeah, I’ve been around and they’re hard to find.

Joyrider – I think we’ve all had a joyrider in our lives at one time or another, the type whose moral compass is not exactly in line with your own. Always pushing the boundaries of one’s better judgement, joyriders never consider the consequences of their actions and the resulting wreckage left behind – often for others to clean up. “Joyrider” was inspired by one such friend who is ultimately redeemed, turning an empty shell into a vessel of God…but, the jury is always out.

You walk a perfect line that never goes straight, and you suffer no fool who gets in your way. I should have known better than to jump in with you.

Cuz everything gets sideways and upside down when that bad news smile of yours comes around. Will you ever stop, will you ever change?

Joyrider, sole survivor, whistling past the graveyard. Joyrider, sole survivor, who will be your savior?

The born losers Hall of Fame. It’s not if you win or lose, it’s how you rigged the game. But not for you, you’re not that kind. You’re a winner and if you’re in doubt, you can’t argue with the past. Mac Daddy in a rented tux and a purloined Cadillac.

Joyrider, sole survivor, whistling past the graveyard. Joyrider, sole survivor, who will be your savior?

[Repeat]

Didn’t see that coming boy, it doesn’t happen every day. A man crawls from his wreckage, gets up and walks away. Yeah, he walks away. He just walks away.

And there’ll be no one, there’ll be no one, to wash the sin away.

Joyrider, sole survivor, whistling past the graveyard. Joyrider, sole survivor, who will be your savior?

[Repeat]

Who will be there? Who will be there? Who will be there to save ya?

How Does It Feel? – “How Does It Feel? (to be real)” is a song originally written by Gregory Markel for Altered State. We had limited room on our records so “How Does It Feel To Be Real?” found itself abandoned on a cassette in a drawer somewhere. That is, until it turned up one day in a digital archive made by Altered State’s longtime archivist, Kyle Sweet. Written well before the advent of social media, it is in some ways prescient, taking on new meaning in light of the designer personas, often devoid of reality, we carefully curate for on-line consumption.

I was tempted to record the song the way Greg had originally arranged it with its classic dominate 7 patina, which I loved, but decided in favor of an arrangement more reflective of my own writing style. I must say I was a bit anxious about how Greg might respond to my treatment of the song. But, as it turns out, he loved it which is all the endorsement it needs. It can be noted that Curtis Mathewson played the guitars marking the first time the core members of Altered State have collaborated on a record since disbanding in the 90’s.

I thought I knew you. You thought you knew me. Guess understanding (is) just a passing phase.

Dance with me through a life full of change, very strange, but it’s alright.
How, how does it feel to be real? How, how does it feel to be real?

Sorry if I strayed left of what you’d say. Sometimes we seem like actors missing our marks.

Can you be sure of where you belong? Am I wrong or did our story change?
How, how does it feel to be real? How, how does it feel to be real? Real.

Making sense is my illusion. It’s hard but it pays. Comfortably warm inside the normal.

Jumped in the river I felt the cool breeze. I held and kissed you. This much is real, at least to me.

Somehow these other things turn to gray, fade away, and be alright.

How, how does it feel to be real? How, how does it feel to be real? How does it feel to be real?

Son of a Working Man – This one is semi-autobiographical and an homage to my dad and namesake, Charles Moreland, who, like any good father, admonished me to “have something to fall back on.” His simple example, getting up early every day to put food on the table, clothes on our backs and books in our bags, instilled in me a work ethic that has kept me grounded in an industry town that, let’s face it, can be a little god damn crazy.

Alarm clock brings another day. His heart is in it, but his soul halfway. Put on a suit and tie and your wing tip shoes. Got a world to save out there and no time to lose. He knows the Good Book chapter and verse but bending the rules, baby, is a family curse to a…

Son of a working man, playing in a pick-up band. I hear in the streets, ya gotta fight to make ends meet. Yeah, ya gotta fight to make ends meet. Pawn shop hero by any other name. By day he works the phones and at night chases fame. Try to grab the brass ring before it fades to black. Ya takin’ two steps forward and three steps back. But ya can’t decide- is it work or is it play? It doesn’t matter much anyway…to a

Son of a working man, playing in a pick-up band. I hear in the streets, ya gotta fight to make ends meet. Yeah, out here in the streets ya gotta fight to make ends meet.

And when they’ve all had their run, will you be the only one still standin’? The only one still standin’. You’re still standin’.

Son of a working man doing the best he can. I hear in the streets, ya gotta fight to make ends meet. Yeah, out here in the streets, ya gotta fight to make ends meet. Ooohh. I hear in the streets, ya gotta fight to make ends meet.

Reptile Farm – I originally intended “Reptile Farm” to be a tongue-in-cheek children’s song written for my daughter Perry who has a bit of a penchant for all things reptilian. However, as I was writing it, I began to see some parallels with living life here in Hollywood and decided to take it in a different direction for the record.

Welcome to the Reptile Farm. There’s plenty of potential and lots of charm. My little neighborhood in the hills just east of Hollywood. My friends on the Reptile Farm tend to bite but they mean no harm. “Snake” and “Gator” live here too, they make two thirds of a nasty crew. But there’s no need to be alarmed just get yourself down to the Reptile Farm. It’s a crazy way of life, I would agree.

Where can I go to find the sane? They’re always going for the jugular vein. Give me some peace, show me a sign – a remnant of the world that I left behind. Left behind. It’s the world I left behind. Uh huh.

Thrivin’ on the Reptile Farm – still got one good leg and half an arm. “You’re not even safe inside,” it says right here in the survival guide. No need to be alarmed, just get yourself down to the Reptile Farm. It’s a crazy way of life, I would agree.

Where can I go to find the sane? They’re always going for the jugular vein. Give me some peace, show me a sign – a remnant of the world that I left behind. Give me some peace, show me a sign- a remnant of the world that I left behind.

There’s art in knowing where to draw the line. I’m a victim by my own design. There’s no need to be alarmed, just get yourself down to the Reptile Farm. It’s a crazy way of life, I would agree.

Where can I go to find the sane? They’re always going for the jugular vein. Give me some peace, show me a sign -a remnant of the world that I left behind. Give me some peace, show me a sign – a remnant of the world that I left behind. Give me some peace, show me a sign – a remnant of the world that I left behind. Left behind. Oooh, it’s the world that I left behind – ah huh.

Glass Houses – “Glasses Houses” is a bonus track lasting all of 20 seconds. It’s a snippet that came to be while recording piano for “Post Modern Man”. Tyler began noodling around as we were setting up mics in the studio. Someone left an empty glass on the studio floor (that someone being me) which was promptly kicked over by the same someone whilst tape was rolling. There was no tape, but you get the picture. I fully intend to write a song around his idea, so consider it a prelude to our next endeavor.

Instrumental.