These Times Weren't Made For You 7"

by Warm Thoughts

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“It always feels a little unjust to grasp a listener’s attention based on an artist’s current or previous work, but the forthcoming EP 7” These Times Weren’t Made For You will put an end to Elliot Babin’s go-to connection as the drummer of Touche Amore, as it has the power to make Dad Punchers a household name. This EP marks the second release for Elliot; the Dad Punchers S/T LP opened eyes last year and gave him the platform that he has earned today, writing deeply personal and often charming songs about the struggles of young adulthood that anyone can relate to. This EP was recorded by Elliot himself in his time home from tour. Using his Father’s living room and his growing knowledge of recording technique, he managed to produce an enjoyable listening experience while once again playing nearly every instrument. Taking cues from The Beach Boys,The Weakerthans, and a range of No Idea Records alumni, Dad Punchers is a look into who Elliot Babin really is as a musician, songwriter, and human being."

Secret Voice Records # 5

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released June 8, 2013

Elliot Babin - Drums/Bass/Guitar/Piano/Vox

David Patterson - Sax on "Everything Must Grow"



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Warm Thoughts (Formerly Dad Punchers) Los Angeles, California

Rocking Roll band formerly called "Dad Punchers"

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Track Name: Everything Must Grow
Your combat boots just never had the soles to make it from here to the edge of the world. The mountains will melt, the oceans will boil, and with a deafening ring, the end of everything.

And your wool-lined parka just won't know what hit it, because this winter will be the coldest. It was never me, it was my god damn instincts that led me here, to the edge of the world.

I finally got that disposable developed and every picture came out blurry, except the one of you leaning on the goal post down the road, that one with your head thrown back laughing at the sky. And yes it made me ache, yes it made lonely, yes it made me wonder where you are. Wherever it is, I hope you're smiling.
Track Name: Respiratory
You can write it, date it, and send it. Someday I'll be there to receive it. But the bookstores are going under because books are a fucking waste of paper.

You're either lonely or you're smothered and one day, it will be one or the other, so keep it in mind when I call you down the line to tell you that I've learned to breathe again. I've learned to breathe.

You can breathe in, breathe out, every breath feels the same and I know theres no one for me to blame except for me and the respiratory.
Track Name: Instant Stream
We will never ever go out on the weekends, just embrace each other to Netflix, and if that’s sorry, baby I’m sorry to you.
We’ll never answer phone calls from our best friends, everyone else is just excessive, and if that’s healthy, baby I’m unhealthy to you.
You wanna pack it all and run, and while that sounds like fun, I’d rather sleep alone in my own bed tonight
Because I don’t run on love or affection, I run on the tasks Ive been given to do
You’re afraid of sex and everything is second best and you haven’t figured out how to be affectionate, I know, it gets confusing.
What’s the point in pets? You get attached and they die, you get bummed and it makes you realize that this is temporary.
What you make won’t mean anything next year, it’s temporary.
Track Name: These Times Weren't Made For You
Your lobby button light hasn't worked in quite some time and the stairs lead nowhere. So you watch the sun roll from your window, bed bound for the summer.

How do you keep on dreaming about cars and swimming when you haven't left your bed in years? Your kids they love you, but they'll lock you up in here.

Bed bound for the summer. Seeking solace from your comforter. Wearing sunblock for the sun that never showed through. These times weren't made for you.