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Roominations: An Unauthorized Parody

by Dr. Mindflip

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tomasdonaghy
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tomasdonaghy Shame Gravy is perfectly titled, it truly is the gravy on this delicious meal of an album! Favorite track: Shame Gravy.
wafdomacro
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wafdomacro This album is amazing
Favorite track: Manchild's Monologue.
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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Deluxe 12" album - remastered especially for vinyl. Presented in a beautiful sleeve and pressed onto premium discs with trippy-as-hell centre labels. Includes a double-sided poster insert with full lyrics, narration script, and album credits.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Roominations: An Unauthorized Parody via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    edition of 100 
    Purchasable with gift card

      €20 EUR or more 

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Comes with mindmelting CD body artwork, sweet cover art, and a 12-page booklet with complete lyrics and narration script.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Roominations: An Unauthorized Parody via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    edition of 200 
    Purchasable with gift card

      €12 EUR or more 

     

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      €10 EUR  or more

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    The complete, limited goodie box featuring: Roominations 12" LP and CD editions, tarot t-shirt, button badge, card & sticker pack

    Includes unlimited streaming of Roominations: An Unauthorized Parody via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    edition of 50 
    Purchasable with gift card

      €50 EUR or more 

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 10 Dr. Mindflip releases available on Bandcamp and save 60%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of HEAR + NOW (live), How are you fixed?, The Reverie Engine, Christmas cuts, Maldives, Roominations: An Unauthorized Parody, In a garden of fools, Every waking moment, and 2 more. , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      €8.80 EUR or more (60% OFF)

     

1.
Fade in. Exterior, Guerrero Street, San Francisco. Dusk. A man with long, impossibly black hair emerges from an apartment complex. He walks with a slight hunch, his arms barely moving, towards a silver Mercedes-Benz convertible. He wears an oversized blazer, cream combat trousers and sunglasses, despite the waning daylight. This is Thomas. Many who aspire to a creative life speak, in jest of course, of wrestling with their ‘inner demons’. But tonight, at the abrupt end of this journey, Thomas will come face to face with his very own.
2.
Just after midnight, a street in Santa Monica, Los Angeles. Gregory, a handsome, clearly nervous man, enters the vehicle. His youth makes the driver appear nothing short of vampiric. Together, they disappear down the boulevard. Thomas and I usually drive late at night Chasing some light or other With our fears in tow What are his? God only knows Some abyss far from Dean and Brando Hug and a kiss and “I told you so” from my mother Now wraparound shades hide eyes Sunk deep in his face with the immeasurable pressure Of our dreaming days And will we ever make the grade? Thomas and I Come take a ride with Thomas and I Making tracks in the dust with a friend you can trust It’s good for the soul When you’re down in a hole, low down Johnathan’s a hell inside his mind Of a story to tell He’s trying to find a way to So I might as well go with the flow “I’ve got this idea…” Now the radio fades The windscreen wipers are blades I’m the midwife for his midlife crisis Screaming demon babe And why is it I feel afraid of Thomas tonight? Something ain’t right with Thomas tonight The hunk of twisted metal penetrates the Laemmle Fairfax Theatre. As the smell of burning gasoline sledgehammers Thomas’ brain into unconsciousness, his eyes roll up over the buildings façade. “Only in theatres…exclusive preview…coming soon…”
3.
Interior, The Room A man, dressed like a child, approaches Thomas with a mocking look on his face. He takes a bite from an apple, and speaks. Don’t you bother stopping on your way home Picking up some trinkets or a treat Cos while you’re fretting over your promotion Your best friend’s slinging semen on your sheets While you’re putting food upon the table She’s getting chocolate fingers on the stairs Right up in there There’s a seven-year Ishtar who’s able to have men do her bidding Who owns this pit hidden deep beneath her lair? Sure it’s yours, it ain’t mine You’re deluded it’s fine Are you losing your mind? Cos everyone thinks you’re blind to what’s been going on Your home-sweet-home is full of happy endings That don’t have anything to do with you Cos she’s expecting nothing but a wedding And a quick Hotel Procrustes honeymoon I’m dropping hints like amateur Hail Marys Whose best friend’s deep in moral bankruptcy? Whose sense of pride’s away with the fairies? And whose demise is hanging over me? Sure it’s yours, it ain’t mine You’re deluded it’s fine Are you losing your mind? Cos everyone thinks you’re blind to what’s been going on Is it true, Johnathan? No part of you sees nothing wrong As you drift along, things are going strong Cos you’re sitting on an atomic bomb Just as the man-child ceases his tirade, Thomas sees a disturbing sight…a man, dressed exactly like him, descending a staircase into The Room. If he can see Thomas, he doesn’t let it show, but strolls confidently out the front door. I’m suffering recurring premonitions Ozymandias lies shattered on the sand Screams and sirens pull me from my vision Whose blood is this that’s dripping from my hand? I’m sure it’s yours
4.
Thomas walks outside into the blinding San Francisco sunlight, determined to pursue this better vision of himself. The boy remains, tormented by visions. My life is running away from me Faster than the eye perceives That I’m just a half-assed montage The years are running away again I sold them to grey gentlemen With wrinkles made of cigarette ash No-one can stop these feet They’re driving a hole in the street Where I’ll make my mark See the difference in me So charming, alarming Out here I’m the star I was born to be Those parasitic somnambulists I wonder how they’ll handle this Their benevolent well has run dry What am I? Some kind of charity? Well…Kris R owes a favour to me After all, who got anywhere by being a nice guy? Wondering “why is this happening to me?” I’ll separate the chaff from the wheat And kill what’s left of this neurotic, this desperate Split personality I’m gonna get what’s coming to me Cos the money shot’s inside of my box Now it’s time to unlock it and see The relentless amble concludes back at the apartment. Thomas follows, as the man creeps upstairs. Thinking that he is alone, Thomas' double pulls a box from under his bed. Inside it, a brand new gun and a stack of paper, clumsily stapled together. The shadows thicken, as the two hidden objects blur and flicker, a noxious odour of blood and gunpowder fills the air. The man shuts the box, shaking his head. No…no…not just yet… No-one can stop these feet They’re driving a hole in the street Where I’ll make my mark See the difference in me So charming, disarming Out here I’m the star I’m born to be The scene is grisly, from the flaming shell, they cut him, pull him, back from hell. But lying on the sidewalk cracks, he sinks yet further Fade to black.
5.
Downstairs, a crowd gathers for a grotesque surprise party. A birthday cake sits melting upon a casket, and limp banners alternately proclaim ‘congratulations on your baby’, ‘only in theatres’ and ‘just married’. His head spinning, Thomas sits down amidst the crowd, who are busy chattering about the man upstairs… Keep your stupid comments in your massive pockets They say he’s got them massive pockets Hey! He could be slipping you into them right now He’s giving you his heart He’s got massive pockets yeah they’ll never rip Galaxies at his fingertips It’s hot, well maybe at least for a little bit Seven years or so to be precise But maybe that’s just the cynic in me “No man’s gregariousness could be so inexhaustible” I guess we’ll see It makes you wonder do you understand life Massive pockets They say he’s got them massive pockets Hey! He could be slipping you into them right now You’re tearing him apart He’s got a kind word for everybody on the street Even people that you’d rather iron your sack than meet He’ll blow your mind with spontaneous generosity And leave you scrambling, shambling, wondering how How does he do it? There must be something to it That trust – he’ll overdo it Cos people can be much trickier than a guy with massive pockets They say he’s got them massive pockets Hey! He could be slipping you into them right now So watch your step
6.
Shame Gravy 05:42
Fleeing the manic speculations of the crowd, Thomas finds himself outside on a rooftop. The sky feels unreal, the lighting strange. But he is not alone. A lone figure, dressed entirely in denim, paces back and forth, muttering to himself in sheer madness. People are complicated but that’s scant consolation To all the kids I beat up after school But one was so professional he arranged a lesson To understand just why I lose my cool Petyr says I’m a vicious cycle of daddy issues True, but I’ll Spirograph with this one rule Instead of reaching for a handshake of marijuana Say yes, I know you want to be kind not cruel And let someone else take control for a change Well there’s a certain chill of the spine that creeps up skyward when the phone rings It chokes the nerves behind my eyes They lock up, monochrome, glistening Tiny redemptions stubbed-out Please don’t mention burned out birthday candles and engagement rings Because I’m all but snapping Telltale hearts are tapping Morse for heinous things And while you stare at the ceiling I can’t help the feeling That you are pot roast This stuffing means nothing Screw your friend’s ghost Well the shades don’t hide and the blade don’t glide away these guilty stings I’m sweating day and night that you just might call and say those filthy things We did on couches, stairs, the clothes my best friends wears Monday to Friday, while he brings home all the bacon to you While you’re making love to the worst part of me Cos you strip off my clothing and all my self-loathing temporarily You are pot roast This stuffing means nothing Screw your friend’s ghost If Petyr had an inkling of just what I’ve been thinking How would he deal with all the load I bear? Cos who can therapize the therapist realising That he’s responsible for my affair? Perhaps I should dig him a hole just in case
7.
Housebroken 04:03
The scene melts away, as night falls. A chill fills Thomas' veins as he discovers the house to be completely empty, the partygoers and their garish trinkets all gone without a trace. Now there are candles. Roses. Silk sheets. And a woman in a red dress, sweeping across the room. She is beautiful, so beautiful, and yet her face is riddled with sorrow. Bought a meal for two from Mephisto at the Broken Mirror seven hells ago Now, in my reflection, I can’t see any sense of three-dimensionality I’m a poorly-wrought caricature at best Less a personality, a pair of breasts I’m Bill Murray and he’s Andie Red dress every day and I can’t breathe Or move through the house with all these flowers And pricks everywhere that bleed my hours dry of affection Attention please! Invisible people shouting ‘bitch’ at me: The worst thing about falling apart is the sweaty hand of the disaster artist So I conspire to perspire another way Fudding myself on the phone all day Mother’s on the couch and she wants my ears Johnathan’s on the couch and he wants my years I can’t sign in blood if it don’t come Holding back the tide with a fake son Shelly’s on the couch with a featherlight brain And a scales to weigh my life Dennis is at the door, talking more shit I’ve palmed a sticky penny for my ferry across this Styx Sticks and stones and broken homes And social vultures circling a pattern that’s repeating I’m a pattern that’s repeating Don’t you bother rushing on your way home I just need a little time to fertilise the pieces of my life that ain’t grown Beyond staring at this bridge dreaming of escaping to some imaginary place Right on the shores of fixing me and breaking you Cos between you and me, it ain’t good I just wanna live
8.
Sunset 03:59
Thomas feels the world around him contort and twist, as a blinding light spreads like a migraine across his vision, consuming everything in sight.   Watch the sun I watch the sunset and say to myself “I’m doing it tomorrow” I watch the sunrise To my surprise, I’m doing it today My therapist says make a list Of all that you’ve accomplished Your basket weaving Your primal screaming And could it be The fear is leaving? Wandering out on the way It’s inevitable that you’ll stray As you pick yourself up, day in day out Tell yourself the way that people live all around you Is wrong And put on a show And laugh even though Your get up and go is gone So hide it in a box and keep it Secret close to where I sleep In case some personality That I’ve repressed inside of me Can silently, with Morpheus Complete my magnum opus While I get back to the art Of tearing my whole world apart Wandering out on the way It’s inevitable that you’ll stray As you pick yourself up, day in day out Tell yourself the way that people live all around you Is wrong And put on a show And laugh even though Your get up and go is gone It’s all gone To do: Procrastinate til it’s too late And fornicate (with complications) Shun socialising Realising that the world is better off without Some bleeding heart, piece of shit Lunatic film script The sad thing’s I can’t think of anything except this Or kickstarted ego trips Or mindfulness hypnotists Or pop-culture pianists Or Z-lister nippleslips Or 1 month free memberships Or top 10 vacation lists Change your life with this one trick You won’t believe it when you Click Through a haze of red and blue lights, Thomas sees the men fighting to save his physical form and feels curiously indifferent to their struggle. Why return at all? I’m fed up with this world.
9.
As the last flickers of life begin to drain from his body, a bearded figure steps forward wearing a shawl. It is Gregory, bruised and shaking, but unharmed. He kneels beside the broken man, and bears his arm as the paramedics prepare for a desperate blood transfusion. Post credit sequence. Several years have passed. Fade up on a dingy LA bar, empty but for the dead eyes of countless Hollywood legends trapped in their greasy frames. And one man, sitting alone in a tuxedo, with a scotch trembling in his grasp. This is Gregory. When I squint my eyes up I can see A brighter timelines new version of me He’s in the corner by the carvary His brow’s unfurrowed Wonder if he’d notice me? Or my empty glass He’s a 9-to-5, a 4x4 I see his family waiting by the door He got out of Hollywood before He made connections and lost direction Fame at last Although this love is blind I know no other kind of rapture Black or blue, trapped in The Room with you I dragged him back from beyond the grave With a big red instrument I made From the lifeblood that I gave He’s a loyal old wolfhound An albatross round my neck The premier spotlights scrape the sky My dignity’s in a hearse outside Upside down from here my life Is a drunken, pointless Sunk in sawdust shipwreck I know this love is blind

about

Oh hai! Join 2 BEST F(R)IENDS on a ill-fated car journey that will lead them from Hollywood to the BRINK OF MADNESS and back again...Prepare for a listening experience that will have you screaming "You are TEARING ME APAAAAHT, Dr. Mindflip!"

Roominations - simply the best psychedelic-narrative-B-movie-rock-opera of 2018

DISCLAIMER:
Roominations is an original musical work and is an unofficial, unauthorized parody. No allusions to real or fictional characters is intended. Song lyrics are entirely original and fictional in nature.

Funded by our wonderful Kickstarter backers

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released February 14, 2018

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Dr. Mindflip

Hallucinogenic piano pop, jazzy nightmares & funky dreams

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