by Paint It Black

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honeydill thumbnail
honeydill PIB is my favourite hardcore band. So good. DFW is my kind of song. Short, fast and it's a punch in the face. BOOM Favorite track: D.F.W..
David Lee Garcia
David Lee Garcia thumbnail
David Lee Garcia The band's energy is right on par, I love it. I'm a vocalist so when I hear and feel these lyrics I get an awesome rush. The words are amazing. Favorite track: Props For Ventriloquism.
xrobxcorex thumbnail
xrobxcorex Far from the best thing PIB have put out but it's still PIB so it's still, like, better than most other hardcore bands.
Tobsen MR
Tobsen MR thumbnail
Tobsen MR Paint it Black will always have a special place in my music collection. They keep making good music on an on. Favorite track: Invisible.
Steven R
Steven R thumbnail
Steven R Any Paint It Black album is better than your average hardcore but, as a father with two small daughters, Headfirst and Little Fists are right on-point. Favorite track: Little Fists.
  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    This new record has been in the works for what feels like a long time. So long, in fact, that it seems like a lot of people, us included, stopped believing it was really going to happen. The challenges of geography, too many bands and tours, and other more mundane aspects of adult life, all conspired to delay and discourage us. But here we are, despite these obstacles, with a new record and a renewed sense of purpose. And in a way, that’s what these new songs, and this band, are really all about. This music, and the culture and community that surround it, don’t really have an expiration date, even though the larger world around us would have us believe that these are childish things, to be put aside as we become responsible, productive citizens. Now, that is obviously bullshit of the highest order. But this isn’t about avoiding adulthood; it’s about redesigning it so that it doesn’t clash so violently with our most deeply held beliefs. It’s about the compromises we refuse to make, but also about the subtle negotiations between ideals/aspirations & day-to-day pragmatics. It’s about figuring out how to keep making noise even when life quiets down. Yes, it’s about parenthood, but it’s also about deliberately resisting corrupt mainstream value systems, even (especially) when they’re bombarding you from all sides. It’s about brutal, devastating loss. More than ever, it’s about alienation and outrage.

    No Idea Records' pink vinyl third (we think) pressing of what PunkNews called "The #1 EP Of 2013". And who are we to disagree?

    Recorded by Will Yip at Studio 4 as the moth 2012 became the butterfly of 2013.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Invisible via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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No sleep. We are restless pestilence. Broken promises collect like bounced checks. Never penitent. I call it “home” where I lay my broken bones. Sticks and stones, a row of disconnected pay phones. We are contraband smuggled through the tunnels under Wonderland. You’ve been sleeping on the job, so here’s your reprimand. We are breeding, multiplying in the space between the walls. What you call living feels more like dying, if it feels like anything at all. Wearing our hearts on our sleeves, seems you’ve forgotten what your head is for. My blood is on your hands, and no that’s not a fucking metaphor. We are afraid of conflict, but always at war. And we no longer feel pain, that’s what the medicine’s for.
Headfirst 02:26
I will be heavy like stone to hold you down. Weightless like wings to lift you from the ground. I will be flesh and bone, fragile and frail, and I will be the wind when it’s time to set sail. Headfirst, kicking and screaming. Naked and afraid into this world we’re thrown. You might feel out of place sometimes, but you’ll never be alone. Beneath these petals, thorns. They’ll try to buy away your hopes and dreams, but all that glitters isn’t what it seems. It’s never enough to be strong, be brave & smart. Smart enough to be afraid, brave enough to lead with your heart.
You don’t know this song, but I caught you trying to sing along. Your mouth is moving but the words are all wrong. False signifiers. Like little liars. Send in the clowns, numb from the neck down. If you don’t know now, chances are you never will. The pitcher’s full, but your plants are wilting on the windowsill. False signifiers. Like little liars. Send in the clowns, numb from the neck down. You talk, and I wince, but you’ve got everybody else convinced. You’ve memorized and rehearsed your lines, while I’ve forgotten most of mine. You know all the steps, but you’ve got no swing. It’s an “I know why the caged bird sings,” type of thing.
Little Fists 02:07
Good morning bright eyes. I watched you while you slept, reflecting on resolutions broken & promises kept. You know we’ve got to fall before we walk, we’ve got to sink before we swim. So have patience, stop checking the clock, and if someone locks you out, kick your way back in. They’ll tell you what you are, they’ll tell you what you’re not. They’ll surround you with mirrors, baby, don’t get caught. They’ll reduce you, sterilize you, try to cut you down to size, too. Shine too bright, they’ll say you’re just craving attention. You’ll run the gauntlet of their smirks and condescensions. Did you run too fast? Did you fly too high? Did you see too much with your eyes open wide? I’d rather “yes,” be our reply, than have as epitaph, “Too afraid to try.” So we’ll dance like wild beasts, charged with disturbing the peace. And when it looks like things can’t get any worse, we’ll sing until our hearts burst. No compass, no maps. We’ll find our own way back. And when things look bleak, I’ll kiss the tears from your cheek, and watch you clench your little fists in your sleep.
D.F.W. 00:34
Obedience ingrained, so discreet. Our chains rendered obsolete. Post-everything. Feel nothing. Ironic detachment replaces outrage. I’ve grown comfortable in my cage.
Invisible 02:24
I’ve got a problem with the way you see, your eyes are always trying to take something from me. I’ve got a problem with the way you hear, only listening to the bankers & the bombardiers. But for now, I’m not invisible. Your stare, the weight of your glare, pinned & mounted, but you best beware. I’ve got a problem with the way you think. Respect could keep us afloat, but you would rather sink. I’ve got a problem with the way you act. Run your mouth, confuse opinion with fact. And if I don’t make any sense to you, well, I never really wanted to. Through fictions fed & feelings misconstrued, at least I know my aim is true. I learned to crawl, to stand, to fall. I even learned to scale those fucking walls. I learned to scream, to swim upstream, and to subsist on optimism & caffeine. Ice will melt. Seas will rise. Iron will rust. Fire will fall from the skies. Hearts will break, but ours will mend, once we’ve spent all that we can spend. We will turn against ourselves, we will feel fear. We are a moment, and we will disappear.


released April 2, 2013


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Paint It Black Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

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