by Dead Horse Beats

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This record is the product of an 8 month love affair with gospel music. It contains 53 samples of gospel, found sound, soul and funk put together in to the 12 tracks you see before you. I added banjo, guitar, harmonica, synths, organs and ambient recorded stuff where I thought it would benefit the sound and I hope dearly that you'll enjoy it.

All purchases come with liner notes including sample list and music video for Born to Die.

All tracks composed and mixed by Patrick Wade///DEAD HORSE BEATS.

Vocal on track 9 by Drig
Additional vocal on tracks 1 and 4 by Annabel Harvey
Additional vocal on track 1 by Victor Dimitrov
Cuts on track 3 by DJ James Reid

Special thanks: annabel harvey/victor dimitrov/chris paetkau/adam greenberg/jake brunt/greg wright/cainan querido/luke bramberger/alex ptasinskas/ryan bray/drig/james reid/my neighbours/my folks/ laurie petrou/michael murphy/ryerson university/dean johnson/astronautalis/ la birra moretti/tom johnson/gareth morgan/artem paskevich.

Share this with your friends if you like it, or holler at me via or @DEADHORSEBEATS on twitter.



released June 1, 2012



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Dead Horse Beats Montreal, Québec

Montreal-based music producer

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Track Name: Peter & John (ft. Drig)
(verse 1)

Directly in the eyes
Like recognize
Unless I'm headless
Like Jebediah
I'm going going
Gone that extra Mile
And if I'm seeing Green
Then let me testify
Envy's an instrument
That gives men directions to fly
See, I grew wings once my legs grew tired
Followed Dante's steps
Through the enclaved depths
Heading through the fire
Flames and the brimstone
While titans polished all their goddamn bells and their whistles
Like call me Ishmael
In hell
Barely breathing
Steering wheels into
Panoramics of this fucking labyrinth
Never broadcast miracles
Unless it's 4 horsemen
Riding on this merry go
I could let the engine rev
I could let the tires burn
If I sold the sole
But instead I just denied the terms
I'm tryna be
Rocky on the steps
Never fallin off the edge
Cuz they told me
Get it together man

(verse 2)

I swear it's mystic and outlandish I rekindle a rhythm
You'd find ripping through the fabric
Of a simpler mind
Been a while since the style switched
The stylus went dull
And the piles of the hands went numb
No room to uplift
They just sit
Never get up
Head tucked
Brain damaging
Hand scratching chins
Bystanders to prized dancers
Bypassing fine actions
Class clowns
Axed out
Hands down
Like they drive standard
You could brave a trek to the heights of Mt. Sinai
Shining lights
Caught in iron sights ready to firefight
Falling back like
Leave it to faith
Or you can shake the world off axis
With this travelling act
Sending love to buskers in my circumference
That have my back
And eff em's
To you busters asking for cash I never had
We ain't looking for the holy grail
Searching for last laughs
Gimme that
Show me those hands