Best Shots

by HEPNOVA

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $5 USD  or more

     

1.
2.
01:46
3.
4.
5.
03:36
6.
04:43
7.
8.
9.
03:10
10.
02:06
11.
02:11
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.

about

This album collects the most accessible, the most listenable, and the overall best cuts recorded by Hepnova AKA The Ronald Raygun from 1998 to 2003. All killer, no filler, the styles range from the tabla-peppered dancefloor banger "Bionic Boyband in Bollywood" (from 1998) to the tough funk-rock anthem "Internal Ratchet Action" (from 2001).

Includes tracks from the groundbreaking 1999 album "Tourist You Are The Terrorist" and the unreleased but brilliant followup, 2000's flinty "Dojo of Hardcore," as well as remix and non-album sessions. Classic.

hepnova.com

credits

released January 1, 2009

tags

license

about

HEPNOVA New York, New York

Fearless genre cannibals / Electro-acoustic madness

contact / help

Contact HEPNOVA

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Bionic Boyband in Bollywood
Bullet the blue sky of a non-existent Nirvana with shotgun shells
Bhindied foreheads shine like 3rd eyes between 2 twinkling pupils
Shining with blank stares, fulling aware of elephant-headed teeny boppers,
Everywhere
As I eat the lotus that blossoms from my stupor
I find quiet annihilation that comes from my sweetest assimilation

We've got our New Bohemian stride
We live the sub-proletariat life
We're so candy mod it hurts
We're so sugar pop it works

I was never one to take it slow
You are so hardcore I'm sure you know

We've got our New Bohemian stride
We live the sub-proletariat life
We're so candy mod it hurts
We're so sugar pop it works

You wear your post-orgasmic glow
We go underground I'm lying low
I have sex in swirls both high and low
Fame, into her arms do you want to go?

We've got our New Bohemian stride
We live the sub-proletariat life
We're so candy mod it hurts
We're so sugar pop it works
Track Name: Karaoke
Do you want to karaoke, karaoke?
I say yes, oki-doki
Discoball is oh-so kitschy
Bust a move and dance I'm getting itchy

Kawaii desu ne!?
Kawaii desu ne!?
Grab a microphone let the music play!
Kawaii desu ne!?
Kawaii desu ne!?
Grab a microphone let the music play!

Do you want to karaoke, karaoke?
I say yes, oki-doki
Discoball is oh-so kitschy
Bust a move and dance I'm getting itchy

What will you sing?
What will you sing?
Grab a microphone I'm the disco king!
Ballads or soul?
Ballads or soul?
Grab a microphone I want ROCK AND ROLL!

Do you want to karaoke, karaoke?
I say yes, oki-doki
Discoball is oh-so kitschy
Bust a move and dance I'm getting itchy
(repeat)
Track Name: Deep Sea Fish
He is a fish, he lives where there is no light
In disguise, he eyes my girl tonight
An artist, he says that he is lonely
An artiste does things for artists only

Dangling lure, skilled poseur
Always posing around
Trolling around
For dishonest love

His glasses a mask; her scans read "safe"
But the moody prude is a secret rake
Hand on chin, he critiques the murals
He kisses all the boys, but he'd rather kiss the girls

Dangling lure, skilled poseur
Always posing around
Trolling around
For dishonest love

We've had plenty of time to grow sick of each other
I can't seem to leave, but she's drawn to others
I cut my hands on a coral bed
How can I hand onto her?
Bait a hook for the deep-sea fish
Seductive predator
Track Name: Internal Ratchet Action
Snap into gear when you hear the thump
The dancefloor cringes for fear of being torn up
They double-take when they're guzzling Dom
Because you twist like Nixon and burn like napalm
Four years and seven scores ago, you were a suckerfish hanging on
But you were abducted, augmented
Now, you're a precision destructicon, oh baby

You got that mechanical, monstrous vibe
You got internal ratchet action
You got it, babe, shake it all night
Internal ratchet action

They all askin' where you get that juice
Did your daddy wind you up and turn you loose?
Is the world a bed of coals you must walk over?
Did you just drop in from the cliffs of Dover?
Well, don't you pay them no mind
They're stale ones -- now is your time
Lock in, rotate, engage
You got to tighten them up with this one

Just leave them standing, staring, holding the bag, you got
Internal Ratchet Action
You got it, babe, you're doing all right
Internal Ratchet Action, oh!
Track Name: La Verdad
(Chase)
Buenas dias, pinche pendejo!
Y buenos noches, Peter Wilson!
Chingas tu madre
Y chingas tu padre
Chupa las nalgas
Si!
Es la verdad.
Si si!
Es la verdad

(Nicholas)
With a spin of the bottle
And a twist of the throttle
We slip up in your town
In the mignight hour,
Your leaders sit in their towers
And you watch while we burn them down
For as the papers change hands, and cigars are lit
We're sharpening our razors
They gorge and gloat, and they fail to notice
The red dot from our lasers

(Sue-Shi)
Well, they expected respect
And they put in a request
For us to produce their food
Well, we stroked our chins
And we thought it through
And this is what we did conclude

(Chase)
Buenas dias, pinche pendejo!
Y buenos noches, Fidel Castro!
Chingas tu madre
Y chingas tu padre
Chupa las nalgas
Si!
Es la verdad.
Si si!
Es la verdad

Buenas dias, pinche pendejo!
Y buenos noches, La Migra!
Chingas tu madre
Y chingas tu padre
Chinga tu amigas y tu hermanas
Chupa el perro
Y chupa el gato
Chupa las nalgas
Pinche pendejo
Si!
Es la verdad.
Si si!
Es la verdad
Es la verdad
Track Name: Metropolitain
We were just kids just fooling around
We were just brats, new brats in town
We think we're cool just drinkin' it down
We're so hip, so underground

We're the new-crowned kings of our aristocracy
New-found wings of our hypocrisy

Fin du siècle, fin du monde
Everybody's dancing all alone
We're just stray kids a long way from home
We're living in pandemonium

We're the new-crowned kings of our aristocracy
New-found wings of our hypocrisy

Who's gonna save your soul
Music takes control
Dance the night away
Demons still remain

She looks alright her moves are bold
Her skin is warm the night is cold
Drink champagne toast the end of the world
Why die young when you're already old?
Track Name: Physical Tourette's
Gonna put my cigarette out in your face
I'm gonna spray you with a can of Mace
I got physical Tourette's
Everything up in this place

Wanna pummel you with a bag of limes
Gonna drag you through a pool of turpentine
I got physical Tourette's
Gonna have a real cool time

I got physical Tourette's
I got P H Y S I C A L Tourette's
I got Physical Tourette's
Hey, nothing personal

You shoulda known when to scram
When my leg shot out like a battering ram
I got Physical Tourette's
Kind of feel like the Son of Sam

With a grand mal nervous twitch
My fist is gonna make your dentist rich
I got Physical Tourette's
Hey, now, ain't that a switch

I got physical Tourette's
I got P H Y S I C A L Tourette's
I got Physical Tourette's
Hey, nothing personal
Track Name: Sex Power
Boys! What have you got?
"Sex power!"
Girls! What have you got?
"Sex power!"
Nerds! What have you got?
"You're stupid!"
Fiends! What have you got?
(Unintelligible)


Well, it's every hepcat for himself!
Be yourself, now, don't be nobody else!
Illin'
Killin'
Sexy
Villain

Boys! What have you got?
"Sex power!"
Girls! What have you got?
"Sex power!"
Nerds! What have you got?
"You're stupid!"
Fiends! What have you got?
(Unintelligible)

Well, it's every bad girl for herself!
Don't be shy, now, jump on down off the shelf!
Hurtin'
Flirtin'
Iron Curtain!

Boys! What have you got?
"Sex power!"
Girls! What have you got?
"Sex power!"
Nerds! What have you got?
"You're stupid!"
Fiends! What have you got?
(Unintelligible)

Well, nerd-things move with great desire!
Get on down, set yourself on fire!
Hackin'
Smackin'
System
Crackin'

Boys! What have you got?
"Sex power!"
Girls! What have you got?
"Sex power!"
Nerds! What have you got?
"You're stupid!"
Fiends! What have you got?
(Unintelligible)

Well, fiend around 'til there's nothing left!
Cheat your girl and steal the panties of death!
Fiendin'
Schemin'
Screamin'
Demon!
Track Name: Solar Flare
I'm seeing stars; no flag in sight
My vision is switching to black-and-white
I can't run for cover, 'cause the room is bare
My skin's on fire like a solar flare

I'm standing in the hotel and I'm toeing the line
I'm bleeding all over the place
You will get away with this 'cause you are so fine
I will never be safe

You're doing things that I can't mention
It's kind of a drag, but I like the attention
I'm mad at you now, but I'll settle the score
When I slither back to you for more

I close my eyes and pray that this won't be the last time
My heart is starting to ache
My hands are shaking and my heart could stop on a dime
My will is starting to break

Cheeky, freaky
Hanky, panky
Maul me Dolly, mar me Barbie
Use me, bruise me
Choose me, lose me
Like me, strike me
Hit me Britney!
One more time
Track Name: Speed
Yo, what is that, up in the sky?
The signal appears when the twilight dies
Yo, what is that, up in the sky?
I try to make it out as the engine cries

The song of metal drowns out my heartbeat
Listen as I come up on my street
My eyes widen as the pistons cry
I stare straight ahead as I pass my street by
My eyes narrow as the engine bleeds
I pass on by and increase my speed

I press hard to the metal
I begin to feel better
I break the fetter
Love may die, but speed is forever

Fire-minds and speed collide
Ride the roaring steel bride
Fiends lurk late, cobra-strike-straight
Death star set to detonate

Tonight's lights are as one
Asserts the growling metal nun
The binding ties that come undone
At this rate, I outpace the sun
Ahead are Seiji and Lou Reed
I pass them by and increase my speed

I press hard to the metal
I begin to feel better
I break the fetter
Love may die, but speed is forever

I press hard to the metal
I begin to feel better
Outpace the pacesetter
Milk expires, but speed is forever

Mon sang comme treacle
Fin du siecle
It's now or never
Love may die, but speed is forever
Track Name: Struggling (After Hours Mix)
Now, I'm strugglin'
Steady stumblin'
I remember
My skin's crumbin'
We were travellin'
Our lives unravellin'
We're in the land
Of rising sin

I try to imagine you; I can't picture you at all
I try to catch a glimpse of you as you walk right through my wall
I try to contain you; you exist in a different phase
I can only see a part of you
I'm seein' in shades of grey

I'm strugglin'

I hear sirens; I hear silence
Hearing in tongues; I'm speaking violence
Does my color drain or does the white stain spread?
I'll be sealed in lead; I'm coughin'

I hear a quiet noise like the sound of police creepin'
You catch me unaware with my hand in a box of Wheat Thins
My pets conceal themselves as the police start to slide
I try to protect myself, but my blood can't seem to remain on the inside

I'm strugglin'

You're post-gorgeous
I'm post-dangerous
You're post-reason
Fads and rages
I'm post-living
You're post-"Post"
Your door's closed
Post-Glasnost
Track Name: Sweet Tomatoes
We were young and hungry and needed some bread
Allowance cut off, and in the red
So, we set out on foot in search of gainful employ

We found a new joint with a catchy sign
They said, "Hey, boys, you're going to do just fine.
We open next week and we need young strapping boys."

So we worked with our eyes upon the gold
Not knowing that we had just been sold

Sweet Tomatoes!

The managers weren't Henry Kissinger
Madame Curie? Well, the GM isn't her
But we courted collapse, still thinking of that dough

But soon, they began misusing us
Began abusing our naive trust
And we began to think "Hey, man, this kind of blows!"

They rode us like one rides a burden mule
But soon, our saddles had worn right through

Sweet Tomatoes!

Don't get us wrong, now,
Some of those people really were OK
The little blond chick and some of those cats,
They never stood in our way
But most of them were like a pack of lady Moussolinis
No sympathy for schoolkids staying late for extra cleaning
No remorse when rinign up to rob us of our summer
Cutting hours ruthlessly, without consent, oh bummer!
So I took things into my own hands, and before they could say "What the @%$#"
I went ahead and I quit that Tomato job, because it sucked!
Track Name: Telephone Tag
(Verse 1)
I was too late to pick up the phone
I was just at home, reading alone
You left a message on my answering machine
I danced around like I was in a dream…

(Chorus☺)
Stop sending me telegrams
I don’t want to be your other man
Stop sending me telegrams
I wanna be your number 1 fan

(Verse 2+3)
Ohayougozaimasu
Excuse me I love you!
Kimi o ai shiteru
Excuse me I love you!

O-Genki desuka?
Excuse me I love you!
Naze Ittanodesuka?
Excuse me I love you!

(Chorus x 2)

Korewa denwa desu
Korewa denwa dewa arimasen
Korewa momo desu
Korewa momo dewa arimasen
Oishii desuka?
Oishii desuka?

Haiku is sweet but I know what’s better
Another day together with you
Another date together for two

(Chorus x 3)
Track Name: Understated/Overrated
The End of Empire has a ring of romance
As the sun sets in the East
Somewhere in Hollywood
You wear your years like a fashion faux pas
You wanted to be a saint, a martyr
But stigmata doesn’t come from razor blades
You crucify yourself for attention
You wanted to be a virgin, you wanted to be a whore
Now you don’t even know who you are anymore

And you seem so understated
But you are so overrated
When you fall for celluloid heroes
And you claim to be everyday people
I don’t think so

How do you take your tea at the end of the century
Do you still believe in something that will set you free
You masquerade as someone you’re not
You want the things that you’ve already got
You talk about things like synchronicity
Rant about anarchy and manifest destiny
Oh, you make a good period piece
You are so “factory,” and I don’t mean Andy Warhol

And you seem so understated
But you are so overrated
When you fall for celluloid heroes
And you claim to be everyday people
I don’t think so