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Gross Net Means Gross Net

by Gross Net

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about

Founded in 2014, Gross Net is the project of Belfast-based artist Philip Quinn, guitarist of the now defunct Girls Names. A departure from the techno-driven sound of 2015's 'Quantitative Easing,' 'Gross Net Means Gross Net' bridges dark electronics, avant garde experimentation, and black humor.

The album title is based on a remark made by British Prime Minister Theresa May "Brexit Means Brexit," and 'Gross Net is Gross Net' is just that – whatever Quinn sanctions the project to be. What it is is truly unique. Shaken by the political upheavals in the US and UK in 2016, the refugee crisis, and the consequences of present-day capitalism, Quinn mined internal feelings of mental anguish and slowly pieced the album together starting with acoustic guitar sketches that would evolve into the carefully crafted compositions that comprise 'Gross Net Means Gross Net.'

credits

released August 30, 2019

℗ + © 2019 felte
All songs written/performed & recorded by Gross Net
Mixing, synth bass on “Dust to Dust” & additional arrangement by Liam McCartan aka Son Zept.
Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri @ Black Knoll Studio, NY USA
Design by Christopher Michael Hefner

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Gross Net Northern Ireland, UK

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Track Name: Shedding Skin
What’s underneath to come clean?
When shedding skin for all to see?
Only to watch from a distance,
My best forward foot, become a dragged heel.

In self imposed exile,
Adopting a new dress.
I almost feel close now,
But under duress,
I digress..

In that 1x1 box of bone, you call home,
Lose the key, you’re on your own.

As the heart is wont, to the flesh need,
Now take the steps toward intimacy.

Time is the bruise,
On this body of flaws.
Why do we go on?
Just because, just because…

In that 1x1 box of bone, you call home,
Lose the key, you’re on your own,
All alone.

Shedding skin,
Shedding skin, become clean,
Shedding skin,
Shedding skin, become clean.
Track Name: Gentrification
Well you’re ruining cities, with reckless abandon,
Paris, London, and Berlin,
You can travel for miles, and still be at home,
Yet my love is a slum, I’m condemned to,
As I crumble beneath, the masonry,
Holding on to, what once was dear,
Is it just nostalgia?
Is it much the same?
Just the same places, with the same pain?

Now gentrify my heart,
Gentrify my heart,
Gentrify my heart,
Gentrify my heart,
Gentrify my heart.
You’re imagining memories, that don’t exist,
Where once was character, only narcissists,
Bland and tasteless, everything's the same,
Glass and strip lights, in white-washed pain,

So, gentrify my heart,
Gentrify my heart,
Now gentrify my heart, I’m asking please,
Gentrify my heart, regenerate me,
Gentrify my heart,
Gentrify my heart,
Gentrify my heart,
Gentry my heart.
Track Name: Of Late Capitalism
Gasp on Amazon air,
Connecting to a moment.
A dot com meditation,
Serene and mindless,

The poor will drown,
I can barely lift a finger,
Natures not forever, yet we expect permanence.

Natures not forever, yet we expect permanence.
Nature is not forever, yet we expect permanence.
We expect, eternal bliss.

Who corrupted nature?
The chemicals in your nature,
Chemicals in your nature,
Give in to nature,
Give in, to, nature,

Give in to nature, give in to nature…
Give in…
Give in….
Track Name: Dust to Dust
Will I die, much too late or much too soon?
Oh pray,
That it be soon,
Will I look up long enough to notice?
The empty room,
The dusty room,
Not a footprint on the floor,
Nor a finger laid upon, not a broom,
To sweep clean and make space,
Refresh,

And you, you’re no different too,
Short sighted,
Blinded,
By a life no-one notices,
An empty room,
A loveless groom,
So lifeless too,
No footsteps echo,
No fingerprints impressed,
No caress, on your heart’s ante-chambers so repressed,

I’m not impressed.
Track Name: The Indignity of Labour
Wake up to the dark and,
Scream silently,
Temples gnaw at the throb of the cold,
You do not know for whom you bend,
As you stoop,
To collect the soap.
In your work-head a mind control,
I’ll give NOTHING away.

The indignity of labour,
The indignity of labour,
The indignity of labour,
Now do it for the pay…


What a way to make a living,
An eight hour locked-in body syndrome,
The practice of smoking,
Seems a good escape,

IS THERE NOT SOMETHING BETTER,
AT WHICH TO ASPIRE?
IS IT TO KEEP THE WOLF FROM THE DOOR,
FOR WHICH YOU PERSPIRE?

Dead-eyed and hiding in a toilet cubicle,
Please, a moment more,
These people make me nervous,
With their blah-blah-blah,

The indignity of labour,
The indignity of labour,
The indignity of labour,
Now do it for the pay…

The indignity of labour,
The indignity of labour,
The indignity of labour,
Now do it for the pay…
Track Name: Social Nationalists
The all serving identity in colours of primacy,
Shan’t afford a crossing,
Nor found a binding,
There are no papers of entry at all,
To parse the membrane, pursing the boundary.
These un-official borders guarded individually

In true independence, I cannot stand alone,
In true independence, I will not stand alone,

Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,

The colours run a blackened blood, running up the mast,
Crocodile mascara tears forgetful of all past.

In true independence, I cannot stand alone,
In true independence, I will not stand alone,

Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,
Coming together is falling apart,

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