Canned Goods EP


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Canned Goods is the third and final EP in a trilogy of recordings encompassing roughly a year of songwriting.

Recorded + mixed by: Sgott MacKenzie in New London, CT.

Written + performed by KMFK.

If when opening a can of creamed corn, you slice your thumb on the jagged lid, your thick crimson blood flooding the yellow mush and spiraling into a pabulum both disturbing and beautiful, it would be much like the brutal tenderness of listening to Kevin MF King’s brief cycle of intimate new songs, Canned Goods EP.
In “Home Alone,” A plucked acoustic guitar intently rolls into King’s signature rasp until a drumset smashes through the haze, only to instantly disappear as fast as it came. “Menace Of A Deaf Kid” asks the listener to “Bring a chaser to my grave, you phantom.” Not an unreasonable request. The lead melody of “Wedding On A Raft” bounces along with guitar plucks and King’s double tracked vocal in strident unison. The abrasive-minimal-outsider-synth blues of “Words From Past” leads to the seemingly warm relief of “Sad Boy” where King (barely audibly) warns us, “Everyone sees you’re alone with the minions, withering misery. If I can riddle you into a trap of mine, and drown you with your regrets.” With that, the E.P. ends as fast as it began. Slicing harshly, but fairly.
-Paul Belbusti (Mercy Choir/ dead language blog)



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KEVIN MF KING Connecticut

A whirlwind of wandering the country and playing shows.

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Track Name: Home Alone
Home Alone
I'd rather be home alone, place I'll never know. I'd rather be home alone.
You sit in that cell alone, CCA makes prisoners clones, for doing that time.
My partner went down that road, of selling coke and dope, he's locked up for a long time.
They target the poor and feed off those in poverty, the warden gets rich from greed.
That's why I'd rather be, alone, place I'll never know. I'd rather be home alone.

Track Name: Menace Of A Deaf Kid
Menace Of A Deaf Kid
My lament for my weakness is a feast for the choir.
Bring a torch, bring a lantern, they/we are burning it down.
Is she better? She learned how to move a bit more.
Bring a chaser to my grave, you phantom.
My loneliness can fill a jar, like a poor kid’s untied shoes make his feet sore.
I've been sent for the purpose of stating obvious lines to the choir.
Kettle’s black, I, the pot, can call that.
All I had has been sacrificed for a one-time rant with the choir.
All I need is a sharpened edge to become anyone else than who I am.
I have spent all that I have earned so do me a favor … don't do me no favors.
Track Name: Wedding On A Raft
Wedding On A Raft
When I'm walking down the street i say hello to the people i meet,
and if only you could be our heart, i just want to be your heart.
I've been a starving dog on the streets. scrounging for every meal I eat,
and if only you could play your part, i just want to play your part.
I etched a line so deep. Drew it on the wall in front of me,
and you probably wouldn't call it art. You probably wouldn't call it art.
Track Name: Words From Past
Words From Past
Tell your problems to your momma, bet your fathers had them first.
You get toe tagged, you get body bagged, you get laid out in a hearse.
It's a cruel joke what we call life, when you pass down into dirt.
If i listen to a good word, it would probably be the first.
If the priest saw, just what i saw, when i saw, he would learn.
If you saw me with my thumb out on that long road feeling hurt.
He would listen to all my words, although my words sounded cursed.
In confession learned a lesson, its a blessing not a curse.
Track Name: Sad Boy
Sad Boy
Everyone knows your alone in contrition, and everyone sees your blue.
Everyone thinks they've got the angles figured out, but you've got news.
Cause your a sad boy, i can't stand to pace around your sad wood floor.
It's just a sad, sad world, i can't show my face around your sad, sad world.
Everyone sees your alone with the minions, withering misery.
If I can riddle you into a trap of mine, and drown you with your regrets.

This song is dedicated to 'Broccoli' Robb Park

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