Gray Matters

by Fake It

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  • Cassette + Digital Album

    Colored cassette tape w/ imprint. Sealed and housed in a Norelco​ case, and includes a download card.

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    edition of 35 

      $8 USD





Pressing Info (Cassette Tape)
15 Bronze Metallic w/ Black Imprint
35 Smoky Tint w/ Metallic Gold Imprint

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released January 22, 2019

Originally released March 3, 2017
Re-released by Sunday Drive Records in January 2019.

Guitar / Bass / Vocals by Christian Burnett

Synths / BGV by Connor Rodenbaugh

Drums by Taylor Liebe

Album artwork by Jacob Burnett / Zach Baker

Engineered / Recorded / Mixed / Mastered
by Connor Rodenbaugh
at Soundheart Collective


all rights reserved



Sunday Drive Records Houston, Texas

Sunday Drive Records is an independent record label based in Texas that was started in 2015 by some friends who share the same passion for music. The goal of this record label is to simply help great musical artists by providing physical albums, promotion, booking, & graphic design. ... more

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Track Name: Preservatives
Between the god upon your shelf
And the daily war waged within yourself
Which brings you the most hell?
Cause I've been trying to distinguish which
Outlook is mine.
Or which poor soul impressed it on my mind,
To what do you subscribe?
The controversy lies between two parallel lines
Shade it in, stand aside,
Watch them speak their minds.
Why not run your mouth all the time?

And I'm so sick
Of handing out knives to be

Clasped tight in the palms of perverted men,
The ones drafting the next four years pen in hand.
Two decades not loud enough for them to give a damn.

But what's the worst that could come of this?
Besides every part of it.
Track Name: Church, State, Etc.
You've managed to paint with such broad strokes.
Are your peers impressed?
I'm sure your folks won't care to address
The lines you've drawn so straight and narrow.
Creating cause for me to interject.

Excuse my interruptions,
But I care not to explain.
To waste these words or my breath
I'd much prefer to stay sane.

Of course my language is profane.
Inexcusable to some but necessary to convey
The patterns recognized by holy eyes
Tightly shut for the better part of their whole lives.
Shed the weight of blame they'll never own.

I'd believe your revelations,
Your appearance sure has changed.
But quite frankly I'm just so sick
Of this one-sided exchange.

Pent up frustrations, as day approaches night.
Televised transmissions, speaking static coated lies
Color me persuaded, or a darker shade of jaded
Past the point of indication, maybe you, maybe me
Maybe this is alright.
Track Name: If The Glue Sticks
I could sit around and complain
Spend my days, cursing your name.

Waste a few more nights trying to tactfully explain
The reason I get this way.

Short sighted, narrow-minded
Call it what you will it still
Amounts to less than the culmination
Of your lack of common sense

Or your pleas for innocence.

You know that better men
Have claimed to be more righteous than yourself

Only to be laid to ruin.
The praise gone most unnoticed
was the only praise worth their focus.
You try too hard. Divide your heart.
For the sake of being something
To a world you've given nothing.
Track Name: 30A
A sudden lack of familiar faces
Takes me back to familiar places.
The onset of consistent straining stasis
Of feeling in between.
Several moments, several seconds,
Always seemingly unseen.

Heavy brows, slight eyes
Would you care to even try

To tell me why
These are such trying times?
Like properly penned lines,
Or books with broken spines,
Do I read well
Or are you just beginning to write?
Track Name: Illiterate // Alliterate
Averaging accomplishments as I am forced to write,
Assigning weight to all the things that keep me up at night.
Self-induced indulgences are slowly taking shape
In the form of breathing creatures I myself helped to create.
Leveraging relationships and laughing till it hurts,
A self-prescribed elixir to help brush away the dirt.

Analyze the lines, you know they span from wrong right.
Eventually come to terms and know they're difficult to find.
Nothing matters more than just to fend of the desire,
exhausting you to honesty or something just as close.
Sometimes the most successful silence drowns out all the noise,
others leaving you with a disturbing lack of poise.

Why do I waste so much of my time
trying to define what's wrong or right.
How will I ever figure all this out
if I'm too distracted by someone else.

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