Their style combines elements of post-hardcore and screamo in a very experimental way to something that can hardly be put into a single genre. Their first LP,Somewhere at the Bottom of the River Between Vega and Altair, was released on November 11, 2008. The album was recorded at Studiotte in Grand Rapids by Joel and Troy Otte. In late 2011 they released their second LP called Wildlife which has also been added as an accompaniment to the #224 issue of the german "Visions" music magazine.
Harder Harmonies
La Dispute Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Faint glimmer of the past trapped in mother's old slides,
Sits still in the apartment while sifting through some pictures
Of the child that he once was and the sense of hope they framed.
"It's a shame,"
And I fear that fate while the humming
From the street keeps me awake
He says, "I let life get twisted.
Get worn out, torn up, and late with the rent. And
Now nothing makes sense except the bench and that piano,
A feeling nearing order when I'm pressing down the chords."
And he plays
And it swells and breaks,
But what'll it take to make my life sound like that.
And brings a fever, a dream of sweat and ecstasy.
A kiss on every hammer hit that follows as the keys fall down and
Bring an order first, then chaos, then a calm, that
Paints every shift in murals on the wall.
And it presses to your neck,
It clutches to your hips,
Softly sings to you of fireworks
And God and art and sex and it's strange
That it feels so right when nothing else does.
But all the while he's playing there's a humming
Coming up and through the window from outside.
And even he has to admit a certain melody in it,
But then why can't he harmonize?
It's like the city's got it's own song but he can't play along.
He sees the notes as they fly by but always plays them wrong.
And in the bathroom it gets blurry, gets warm and distorted,
Like light pushed the orange of the pillbox he poured in
His palm. It falls to the floor, he smiles as it hits,
"Sounds a little like an instrument."
Like a voice in the choir, that hum
And that drumbeat of life as an art-form and
Fire through the streets that keep
Moving us in silence to phantom baton sweeps,
Keep tapping to the tempo of our feet.
And all the ones who seem to fit the best
Into the chorus never notice there's a song
And the ones who seem to hear it end up tortured
By the chords when they fail to find
A way to sing along.
And when you sing the wrong thing it all starts collapsing.
Starts to ring out and feedback, starts lapsing and crashing,
On notes that don't clash
But that never quite feel like they match.
And I never quite feel like mine match.
There's a melody in everything,
I'm trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work,
Nothing seems to fit.
There's a melody in everything,
I'm trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work,
Nothing seems to fit.
There's a melody in everything,
I'm trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work,
Nothing fits.
In "Harder Harmonies," La Dispute delivers another deep and introspective piece of music that focuses on the human struggle to find one's place in the world. The lyrics speak about how life can twist, wear out, and leave one feeling lost, but the artist finds hope and a sense of order when he presses down the chords on his piano. As the music swells and breaks, it brings a feeling of fever, sweat, and ecstasy that softly sings of fireworks, art, and sex. However, the artist still hears the humming of the city's own song and tries to harmonize with it, but always seems to play it wrong.
The lyrics suggest that life is like a choir, where some people seem to fit the best into the chorus while others end up tortured by the chords when they fail to find a way to sing along. The artist is trying to find a harmony that fits within the melody of his life, but nothing seems to work, and nothing fits. He feels like he's singing the wrong thing, and as a result, everything starts collapsing. The lyrics have a feeling of hopelessness and desperation, and it's evident that the artist is searching for some kind of order and harmony in his life.
Line by Line Meaning
Like a shadow on a shadow, a phantom in a film strip,
He feels like a faint, distant memory of himself - like a figure in an old photo negative.
Faint glimmer of the past trapped in mother's old slides,
The memories he has of his younger self are hazy and locked away.
Sits still in the apartment while sifting through some pictures
Of the child that he once was and the sense of hope they framed.
He's stuck in his apartment, looking back at how he used to be and the positivity he once held.
"It's a shame,"
He regrets the way his life has turned out and feels it's unfortunate.
And I fear that fate while the humming
From the street keeps me awake
He's worried about the direction his life is headed while the noise of the city keeps him up at night.
He says, "I let life get twisted.
Get worn out, torn up, and late with the rent. And
Now nothing makes sense except the bench and that piano,
A feeling nearing order when I'm pressing down the chords."
He admits he's let his life get out of control, except for when he's at the piano creating a sense of order.
And he plays
He loses himself in the music he's creating.
And it swells and breaks,
But what'll it take to make my life sound like that.
The music he creates grows in intensity, but he wants his life to be as emotive and impactful as his music.
And brings a fever, a dream of sweat and ecstasy.
Music brings about emotional ecstasy for him.
And it presses to your neck,
It clutches to your hips,
Softly sings to you of fireworks
And God and art and sex and it's strange
That it feels so right when nothing else does.
Music is intimate and emotional; it touches every part of you and makes one feel alive.
But all the while he's playing there's a humming
Coming up and through the window from outside.
He's constantly aware of the loud hum of life happening outside his window.
And even he has to admit a certain melody in it,
But then why can't he harmonize?
Although he recognizes the tune of life happening, he's unable to merge his own tune with it.
And in the bathroom it gets blurry, gets warm and distorted,
Like light pushed the orange of the pillbox he poured in
His palm.
He retreats to the bathroom and feels the effects of a pill as everything gets warped and unclear.
It falls to the floor, he smiles as it hits,
"Sounds a little like an instrument."
He sees the pill falling as if it were an instrument hitting the floor which brings him a little joy.
Like a voice in the choir, that hum
And that drumbeat of life as an art-form and
Fire through the streets that keep
Moving us in silence to phantom baton sweeps,
Keep tapping to the tempo of our feet.
Life is like a choir and its sounds are the art. We move with synchronicity to its drumbeat, tapping our feet unconsciously as we go.
And all the ones who seem to fit the best
Into the chorus never notice there's a song
And the ones who seem to hear it end up tortured
By the chords when they fail to find
A way to sing along.
Those who belong to society's ideal, don't notice there is life happening around them. Those who recognize it, often suffer when they can't find a way to join in.
And when you sing the wrong thing it all starts collapsing.
Starts to ring out and feedback, starts lapsing and crashing,
On notes that don't clash
But that never quite feel like they match.
When one goes against society's norm, everything falls apart. The notes align, but still feel off.
And I never quite feel like mine match.
He never feels like he fits in anywhere.
There's a melody in everything,
I'm trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work,
Nothing seems to fit.
There's always a sound to life, but he can't find a way to join in with it. His life seems out of place no matter how hard he tries.
There's a melody in everything,
I'm trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work,
Nothing seems to fit.
There's always a sound to life, but he can't find a way to join in with it. His life seems out of place no matter how hard he tries.
There's a melody in everything,
I'm trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work,
Nothing fits.
He keeps trying to fit in with society, but everything still feels off to him.
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Songtrust Ave
Written by: JORDAN LEE DREYER, CHAD WILLIAM STERENBERG, BRADLEY RYEN VANDER LUGT, ADAM DAVID VASS, KEVIN SCOTT WHITTEMORE, BRADLEY RYAN VANDER LUGT, KEVIN SCOTT WHITTEMORE
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Juli
Like a shadow on a shadow, a phantom in a film strip
Faint glimmer of the past trapped in mother’s old slides
Sits still in the apartment while sifting through some pictures
Of the child that he once was and the sense of hope they framed
“It’s a shame,”
And I fear that fate while the humming from the street keeps me awake
He says, “I let life get twisted
Get worn out, torn up, and late with the rent. And
Now nothing makes sense except the bench and that piano
A feeling nearing order when I’m pressing down the chords.”
And he plays
And it swells and breaks, but what’ll it take to make my life sound like that
And brings a fever, a dream of sweat and ecstasy
A kiss on every hammer hit that follows as the keys fall down and
Bring an order first, then chaos, then a calm, that
Paints every shift in murals on the wall. And
It presses to your neck
It clutches to your hips
Softly sings to you of fireworks and God and art and sex and it’s strange-
That it feels so right when nothing else does
But all the while he’s playing there’s a humming
Coming up and through the window from outside
And even he has to admit a certain melody in it, but then why can’t he harmonize?
It’s like the city’s got it’s own song but he can’t play along
He sees the notes as they fly by but always plays them wrong
And in the bathroom it gets blurry, gets warm and distorted
Like light pushed the orange of the pillbox he poured in
His palm. It falls to the floor, he smiles as it hits
“Sounds a little like an instrument.”
Like a voice in the choir, that hum and that drumbeat of life as an art-form and
Fire through the streets that keep moving us in silence to phantom baton sweeps
Keep tapping to the tempo of our feet
And all the ones who seem to fit the best into the chorus never notice there’s a song
And the ones who seem to hear it end up tortured by the chords when they fail to find
A way to sing along
And when you sing the wrong thing it all starts collapsing
Starts to ring out and feedback, starts lapsing and crashing, on notes that don’t clash
But that never quite feel like they match
And I never quite feel like mine match
There’s a melody in everything
I’m trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work
Nothing seems to fit
There’s a melody in everything
I’m trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work
Nothing seems to fit
There’s a melody in everything
I’m trying to find a harmony but
Nothing seems to work
Nothing fits
glitter girl
@Brandon Wilson was*
Brandon Wilson
My God Jordan, you are a great lyricist.
Mark Hall
As a musician whose entire life is a mess and lives under an eternal cloud of misery this song hits me hard. I met Jordan once and told him how much his words mean to me, I think I kinda creeped out, but his words have really seen me through some really dark times over the years.
Matt
Mark Hall I’m in the same boat. It’s eerie but comforting to know we’re not alone
Iksha Melrose
the transition from a departure and harder harmonies, which is probably my favourite song from wildlife, always get me gassed up
adam hurt
Love this song
Gaucher
my friends : r uokay ?
me : yes listenning to La Dispute
DeadCats OnFire
I'm the 100th like.