Cashing A Dead Man's Cheque (EP)

by My Son The Hurricane

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about

My Son The Hurricane's new EP, “Cashing a Dead Man's Cheque" coming out on independent label, Vegas Funeral Records finds the 14 piece band pushing the limits of their sound, a mixture of brass, hip-hop and heavy metal. The album features U.S.S.(Ubiquitous Synergy Seeker) frontman Ash Boo-Schultz and 3 time Juno/Polaris nominated emcee D-Sisive.

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released March 5, 2013

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about

My Son The Hurricane Toronto, Ontario

My Son the Hurricane is a 14-piece brasshop funk beast with the mantra: anything worth doing is worth overdoing. Hailing from Niagara/Toronto, the band mixes New Orleans style grooves with funk, jazz and hiphop.

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Track Name: Pigeon Park (Featuring Ash Boo-Schultz of U.S.S and D-Sisive)
Pigeon Park

With open eyes
Big picture, little things
The calm explodes, pixel and everything
Expand and grow, darkness or happiness
It comes and goes
Big picture, little things.

One, one, wonderful to meet you
I can tell that you the kind of people that
Two, three, form your own philosophy
Crawling ahead gracefully and honestly
Five, six with an extra thumb
Making it gone, go get it done
Seven, eight, but it ain’t finished yet
This ignorance is only bliss to the inconsiderate
And it’s cold and mold’s crawling through the window-wells
Where old can sound like dinner bells
It’s a hold up, smoke out, breathless and choked out
No help for those who don’t help themselves
It’s growing out the armpits
It’s a leak in the ceiling, not a stain in the carpet
And I could try to explain but the big pictures too big to be contained in a frame.
Track Name: Call Me Mister
Call Me Mr.

I must confess, I’ve been doing it right
So when I close my eyes I can sleep at night
And I know, I’ve been sleeping well
But there’s a part of me that’s sleeping still
And I guess, I been holding in
But I’ve grown over with confidence
And I don’t, think you’re saying my name right
So let me just explain myself.

I’ve got a mortgage ion my head
A driveway paved with cement
A couple bucks in the bank
A little gas in the tank
I think it’s becoming evident
Come on, ladies and gentleman
Break out the suit jackets a liquor
I think it’s time you call me Mr.

And you can catch me on a Saturday morning
Feet up, with a cup of joe, newspaper, 610 on the radio
Chatting with my wife about kids and taxes
Reminding myself to wear jacket (it’s cold outside)
And other preservatives
Olds not so bad when you consider the alternative
And if you’re still not saying my name right
Let me better explain myself..

I’ve got a lot of shit ahead
I’ve got another body on my bed
And I’ll bite off all I can chew for something to come home to
I think it’s becoming evident
Come on, ladies and gentleman
Break out the suit jackets a liquor
I think it’s time you call me Mr.

I’ve got to get this off my chest
I need to keep myself impressed
And if that’s enough to make you hate a man
Than frankly my dear, I just don’t give a damn.
I think it’s becoming evident
Come on, ladies and gentleman
Break out the suit jackets a liquor
I think it’s time you call me Mr.