Cecil is one of the founding members of Doomtree. As an emcee he’s admired for his lyric, cinematic style. He writes about love, vengeance, and redemption—and the spaces where the three convene. His narratives ride on his imagery: sepia flickers of loners, beauties, ghosts, and vagabonds.
As a producer, his sound is nostalgic. He features swooning guitar lines, masterful drums, vinyl crackle, and distant voices. The effect is melodic, often melancholic, and seems to draw on the sentiment of another, more romantic era.
Cecil’s fascination with rap music started when his big sister ran away from home. She left a box of rap cassettes beneath her bed, all intentionally mislabeled to prevent confiscation by her parents. Easy E with a Jon Bon Jovi sticker. N.W.A as Michael Bolton. At eight, Cecil memorized every word, intent on impressing her when she returned.
A few years later, Cecil learned to skate, went semi-pro and spent hours practicing with high school friends Stef (P.O.S.) and Johnny (Paper Tiger). Kai (MK Larada) made the occasional visit, often with a camera in hand. The same varied cast of characters began making music together—some rap, some punk, some rock—and by 2000 the name Doomtree surfaced.
Now, almost a decade later, Cecil has contributed to nearly a dozen releases in the Doomtree Records catalog. His most recent full-length, Rebel Yellow, was re-released by Sage Francis for Strange Famous Records. He's now recording his solo project, Porcelain Revolver.
Solo Projects
False Hopes 7
Rebel Yellow
http://www.doomtree.net/cecilotter/
Traveling Dunk Tank
Cecil Otter Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Both
That's why I keep my nose to the stone, sharp til the hairs split
Prose of a lone cub in a bear's pit
And I can barely sit still,
You know the deal: wake, work, repeat
I'm trying to eat,
Insignificance ain't no signature I'm trying to leave
Set a precedent for me, trying to teach it to my seed
No predicament too twisted for speech, I'ma just be.
(Alone)
P.O.S.:
Back from seeing papa drink 40 o-u-n-c-e's just to quench,
I'll rise against all you rinse in me
You want your soundscape scraped, that's my homeboy Cece
I'll be that lung beater here to choke smoke and pent heaters
Warm the frostbite of the death cheaters
And maybe next year the check clears
Until that time, nickle and dime,
No henny and shine, grind them gears
Me and Cecil been up for years
Now peeking at how to live
How funny something so simple can leave you feeling so supple
Belly full, promise of struggle, never bull
Stay Doom through til the muscle
And I'm been dreaming for a Cecil beat,
Pasting on the canvas on the easel beat, needle point
Balance them anxieties
And fret with any spool or school of thought that keeps the cloth you stitch indifferent,
It's not the pot you piss in
That's why I keep my nose to the stone, sharp til the hairs split
Prose of a lone cub in a bear's pit
And I can barely sit still,
You know the deal: wake, work, repeat
I'm trying to eat
I'm trying to free up them wings, trying to bear some teeth
And significance ain't no signature I'm trying to leave
Set a precedent for me, trying to teach it to my seed
No predicament too twisted for speech, I'ma just be.
(Alone)
So now I stepped into the side saddle, riding all alone
My only weapon is my mind,
That and knowing that the road wrote a story of its own entitled
"I am yours to loan, but I ain't yours to own, no I ain't yours,"
And only open eyes would know the lines and quotes
And no I haven't always kept my eyes open, so I'm
(Alone)
Without a home to call my own,
Cause dreams are the only roads I roam.
And now I'm sleeping in a box car dreaming of the lost starts, preaching and car hearts
Standing at the edge of this cliff, throwing little things off like rockstars and car parts,
These scars that are marking up my face and body,
Are the songs that I write about you but now I base them off me,
I'm breaking laws that we alone don't show a sign of purpose
So I'll walk these lines and these fences until my time is serviced
These giant churches, burning witches, pretty perverts, city workers and snitches
That shit's just drying on the fan, the damned
I'll keep my chin up, sit up, and stand
Just combing through the trust, the rust, the dust, the rush and the drunk angst
I cash my check at a blood bank,
Plus I've got some clown make-up and a traveling dunk tank.
The song "Traveling Dunk Tank" by Cecil Otter is a poignant expression of the struggles of an artist chasing his dreams. The first verse describes the constant grind of work, trying to make ends meet while yearning for the freedom to create. The verse from P.O.S. adds depth to the theme, reflecting on the experiences that shape the artist's journey. He speaks of watching his father battle addiction and finding solace in music as a means to rise against the odds. The chorus is a reflection on the price paid for pursuing one's passion, living a life that is often lonely and nomadic. The artist knows that his dreams are the only roads he can roam, but that does not make them any less fulfilling.
Line by Line Meaning
That's why I keep my nose to the stone, sharp til the hairs split
I work hard and stay focused
Prose of a lone cub in a bear's pit
I'm a talented writer in a difficult situation
And I can barely sit still
I'm always restless and eager to do more
You know the deal: wake, work, repeat
My life is a routine of waking up, working, and repeating
I'm trying to eat
I'm trying to make a living
I'm trying to free up them wings, trying to bear some teeth
I'm trying to be independent and assertive
And insignificance ain't no signature I'm trying to leave
I want to make a meaningful impact in the world
Set a precedent for me, trying to teach it to my seed
I want to set a good example for my children
No predicament too twisted for speech, I'ma just be.
I can handle any difficult situation with my words
Back from seeing papa drink 40 o-u-n-c-e's just to quench,
I've witnessed my father drinking heavily
I'll rise against all you rinse in me
I'll rebel against those who want to control me
You want your soundscape scraped, that's my homeboy Cece
If you want good music, my friend Cecil is the one to go to
I'll be that lung beater here to choke smoke and pent heaters
I'll use my voice and music to make a statement
Warm the frostbite of the death cheaters
I want to inspire those who have given up hope
And maybe next year the check clears
Maybe I'll make some money next year
Until that time, nickle and dime
Until then, I'll have to work hard and earn little money
No henny and shine, grind them gears
I can't afford luxuries, so I'll keep working hard
Me and Cecil been up for years
My friend Cecil and I have been working in the music industry for a long time
Now peeking at how to live
I'm trying to figure out how to live my life
How funny something so simple can leave you feeling so supple
I find it amusing how something simple can make me feel so free
Belly full, promise of struggle, never bull
I'm well-fed, but I know I'll still face challenges
Stay Doom through til the muscle
I'll keep fighting until I'm strong enough to overcome my challenges
And I'm been dreaming for a Cecil beat,
I want to make music with my friend Cecil
Pasting on the canvas on the easel beat, needle point
Creating music is like an art form for me
Balance them anxieties
I try to manage my anxiety
And fret with any spool or school of thought that keeps the cloth you stitch indifferent
I worry about anything that might prevent me from being passionate about my work
It's not the pot you piss in
It's not about your status or job title
So now I stepped into the side saddle, riding all alone
I'm going on a journey by myself
My only weapon is my mind
I'll use my intellect to overcome challenges
That and knowing that the road wrote a story of its own entitled 'I am yours to loan, but I ain't yours to own, no I ain't yours,'
I don't have control over everything in life, but I can still make choices
And only open eyes would know the lines and quotes
You need to be aware to understand what's happening around you
And no I haven't always kept my eyes open, so I'm
I haven't always been aware
Without a home to call my own
I'm homeless
Cause dreams are the only roads I roam
I only have my dreams to guide me
And now I'm sleeping in a box car dreaming of the lost starts, preaching and car hearts
I'm sleeping in a boxcar, dreaming of a better life and sharing my music with others
Standing at the edge of this cliff, throwing little things off like rockstars and car parts,
I feel like I'm at a breaking point and losing everything
These scars that are marking up my face and body,
These scars represent my struggles and experiences
Are the songs that I write about you but now I base them off me,
My music is now about my own experiences and struggles
I'm breaking laws that we alone don't show a sign of purpose
I'm doing things that others might not understand or agree with
So I'll walk these lines and these fences until my time is serviced
I'll keep persevering despite the challenges
These giant churches, burning witches, pretty perverts, city workers and snitches, that shit's just drying on the fan, the damned
There are many different types of people in the world, but they all have their own problems
I'll keep my chin up, sit up, and stand
I'll stay positive and keep going
Just combing through the trust, the rust, the dust, the rush and the drunk angst
I'm trying to make sense of my life and experiences
I cash my check at a blood bank,
I'm so desperate for money that I'm selling my blood
Plus I've got some clown make-up and a traveling dunk tank.
I'm doing odd jobs to survive, like working at a traveling carnival dunk tank
Contributed by Elizabeth L. Suggest a correction in the comments below.