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by Youngblood Brass Band

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Single-sleeve CD second edition as sold on tour. Art/Design by Scott Pauli (artandsons.com).

    Check out our entire family of artists at Layered Music, the label/arts collective we founded: layeredmusic.bandcamp.com (@layeredmusic on insta)

    All links to YBB social media/music/info: linktr.ee/youngbloodbrassband

    YBB members are also available for online lessons, commissions, bespoke arrangements, and custom studio work. Contact us for details!

    Thanks for listening.

    Includes unlimited streaming of center:level:roar via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 11 Youngblood Brass Band releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Pax Instrumentals EP, Covers 1, 20 Years Young, RIP Arian Macklin, Pax Volumi, Riot Instrumentals EP, Is That A Riot?, Live. Places., and 3 more. , and , .

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slice our tongues / and let the rhymes drip down / to stain the swords soft crush my feet / in this mindless stampede / to stay stupid on the ground tear out a floating heart / and squeeze the juice over / party-purchased plastic flowers because everyone needs to grow green / and dry their eyes of shame and we are the twice-striking lightning / beating the drum that brings the rain
Round One 05:25
culture envy culture war culture envy culture war culture envy culture war count your dead kill your poor what are we looking to find here? absolution / attainment / atonement / justification all priced to move / you standing like it's action / bide time with bought rhymes high five to nine for naught / joke with misdirected lies who the fuck aren't you kidding? i knew you back in school / when there less actors to look up to studying simplicity / we still meant the laughter if you could love yourself the way you do them there'd be a life after / the playwrights lowered their guns there's peace pieces to pick up again / you used to build mind your pen / remind your pen i'm sick of the video you've rewound us in / the headaches: still shots taken in sequence / hung over old dreams to dry and develop moldy cultures / still: all this sun and you're sleeping in the dark room waiting on a film caked thick within / cleaned stained windowsills instead of taking panes / out of eyes (i'm out of rhymes) colorless you / hid behind heavy lids / eating surface shit somewhere deep you swear respect exists (exits upstage right) tragedy: infinitely more down than a kiss the assumed and the actual are both a sad performance an audience will answer if you question them correct you don't see the bloody entertainers you're trying to resurrect not knowing you're looking / is atonement cash or check? absolved and justified / create an ego to protect center level center roar center level center roar center level center roar is an army is a form culture envy culture war culture envy culture war culture envy culture war count your blessings kill your poor culture envy world over / respect drunk war sober i'll fight for no flag and battle all devices old men divide soil spoils for us to toil indecisive over whose music's origins are righteous or damned or if one is the same can both be wrought with your hands we've wrung out all lands and brought bought life back to life only this time we'll go ahead and say the origins were white heads in the sand that kept us warm from the rhythms of the night you'd think history would give fair warning but it doesn't make for good sales or stories and don't think we're done stealing the past or telling it to you second-hand while tipping the hour glass and tilting our hats one third cock eyed / now dance. i remember when the beat moved itself through sacred trees and ceremonies a hapless heiroglyph soul-branded on the open spaces of consciousness and we are all con-script scrawled across the middle canvas draw fast + answer nothing there's no question they've been here glyph lock pick pockets patrolling the selling block for cheap/easy targets the dueling heretics of a new religion doodling death wish on a fluttery paper soul / draw fast black canvas impervious to shades' shame paint the world lovely with indecipherable song plant the flag of the insane in land unsold forego the envious and warring to play the unknown what is culture but the gift of dream what is life but to sing sleep unseen center level center roar center level center roar center level center roar in an end many more culture envy culture war culture envy culture war culture envy culture war count your dead kill your poor by now you should've died twice we're not communicating one line at a time or a vision of a dying woman on my doorstep fading fast the second time around what's inside these sounds you mouth did you hear the call from across the ages the sea takes us back too quickly and i'm far from grounded now's the time to sail / before the last tree falls i'm seeing my mentors sage-less / casting outside their realm ex-spelling p.g. concepts to conjure self i'm seeing priests prostrate to prophecy / praying in the wrong room count your blessings / and sell the difference i'm seeing indifferent souls in different cells spilling blood like wine just to know they've been here hold your pitcher / kill your pour try to clip these wings / still we soar frantically flapping the face of (not) our kids heading south to sea too soon to say 'stay - i've seen' nothing but envy for the green / war for the greed innumerable dead blessings / and your poor peaceful resting culture envy culture war culture envy culture war culture envy culture war count your blessings kill your poor
Brooklyn 06:51
Diaspora 03:53
o siri jogou jogou o siri chamou chamou o siri tocou tocou foi para jogar la-la-e la-e-la-e-la-la capoeira, ladainha la-la-e la-e-la-e-la-la sangue novo, sangue joven then: i saw senegalese shaman spinning seance spirituals where the gods sat back and smiled at their singing child i heard century-old griots disclose millennia-old secrets to sleeping capoeiristas under metropolitan trees i tasted goat's blood gumbo up in congo square cook-offs in front of armstrong's bell and knew it was worth the wait i inhaled government-manufactured crack / stacked skyscraper wax counted the rings on records / passed peyote to the grand canyon and called it hip-hop consoling with consonance / remote-controlled confidence its roots in a continent assumed life-incompetent that's a hell of a sentence / and a sentence to hell in the noise of the now i'm too deafened to tell shango said we fake his dance very well but the anger is remembered and amends are hard to come by gazing second-hand at glory blurry bolstered by their minds' wine and pelvic thrust sustenance oshun sent her smell bedside / now i'm d.u.i of ancestry and what's not quite guilt / more like regret it's not my fight but i act like a vet then obatala awoke / advising truth and rest so here we float between decent prose and the present's constant wind waxing nonchalant on misappropriated dark continents wondering why two great human abnormalities are compassion and common sense throwing secret new orleans/yoruba signs while scholars condescend the spirits have left the room and i'm left to write their scent despite aforementioned salvation the pen cannot repent now: calm encased in cadence / la bateria playing fourteen times nameless righteous revelers pounding dry pavement to hear the earth answer back rocks that beat jones-ing elves and metro-gnomes summon sleeping giants living crowds coalesce and explode lifting the shroud of death from wrecked homes and wave my writes like an eternally burning flag always fire-colored and -covered coveted summer cavorting with lovers too loud for flesh the type i haven't met yet but i'm sure you're becoming after us, nothing / before screams, humming dream something and we'll play it / next melody drifting downriver sun-dressed and -kissed and -shone for new b-boys no one ever dies / not in my sky we are soaring so simply it's missed by reason and exists as silent song artists wake up human to put attitude and violence on / put off tomorrow what say we say what we mean to feel more often? i'm real sure i'm less shot i steal words from hip-hop like 'what' / but i love it like you don't you love it when it's like you? and we say 'that's my jam' because it is because it's like that when it likes you giving group affirmation like 'yes y'all' / and it goes on because you don't stop / because if you did the world would fall apart and these beats would return to the womb of the universe where they'd wait another six billion years for life to sound like 'boom-bap' again so move
Thursday 02:24
blow out the candles tonight i don't want any light wasted film americana fills my mouth but even light doesn't taste good that's why emcee's spit out faced with conversative complacence we turn away to rinse with acts still this selfish plaque lingers like twelve years of drum disease mix black, white, new orleans, new york, and gargle twice daily drops of art's saline what we saw clearly in the womb most won't know at thirty it's a thursday and i sit at home worried of soul hygiene like nat used all the trane-ing visine d-finding literally what it is to be a mic fiend we smoke away our pipe dreams yellow teeth decay and fall out we stay all out in all ways all out wondering what hole this hell crawled out if it's us it's god's mouth if it's they call saul's house we till the earth with our plow 'til the earth's scars heal resurrect the stars' tao pierce the night with large howls piece ripe walls with shit like 'revolution right now' square off with sons of darkness in night rounds circle daughters of light wearing bright crowns i'm life-bound to free death mics drowned in d's breath smite crowds and need rest i frown and detest white power and regress to a beat down for these heads and this mic ain't going nowhere until i brush my teeth with justice leagues and trust my beats to put me down for another night blow out the candles and get some rest
The Movement 07:21
ours 'fight fire and become fire / any man that fights me fights the sun' (ben okri - the famished road) it's always on born marching to the beat of infinity's drum with similes sung / your songs sound off we're writing a history wherein evil eventually lost and still writing bad checks for what freedom's memory cost calling it a good war like we should be sentimentally soft naked emperors decree you turn the other cheek and essentially cough lonely brides cry crystal tears over open veins hope remains toxic / we're dying for a reason for dying / for rhyming go against the grain of greed and all soul sorcery we fell off the tree disorderly them seeing the fruits of slave labor are soon to see the orchard bleed i can't get it out fast enough but i can afford to eat last week i must've ingested like forty feet but we'll get it right, and they'll hear it and they'll pay and pay and pay until it sounds like a movement again
Avalanche 04:09
we necromance dead crowds to grab a dance clap their hands / b-boy stance / wack bands don't have a chance savage plans to launch official spittle missiles rattles riddles / battles little rappers' dribble / double wishful thoughts of meeting the chief-ing chieftains speaking frequent pursuing dreams and meanings with zeke and solomon brown skills abound / still the sound fills your town spilling down million pound avalanches of nouns rap tantric / i'm sick of pop star antics like kids throwing tantrums through hip-hop semantics anthems are repeated / seriously candid i don't leave impressions on cats / i leave them branded most are underhanded / overstate their understanding stanzas so bland we're demanding disbanding of your clan so cold i should be spitting with mittens while you're sitting with kittens / dissing missions with beats bitten listen: to innovate you gotta be different progress comes of struggle not of talking shit while lifted you all play the misfits but you could rock the gifted d-ciph avalanching to get the power balance shifted 'that's all fine and good kid but how're we supposed to win it' community organizations / grassroots foundations ending gentrifications / ghetto beautification it's in our hands we're the hip-hop generation avalanche – it's the force bombing from up north veteran horns settling scores / better in wars than you and yours the underground torch / shine bright enough to blind here to move your feet, your mind, and your behind avalanche – we're that force bombing from up north militant prose / elevate shows / opening lore's musical doors the underground torch / shine bright enough to blind here to move your feet, your mind, and your behind my band will turn those fresh beats rancid if you're not buying the album you'd best be dancing projecting thoughts like ender's ansible / intangible through mandibles graffiti vandals exposed / government scandals exposed war propaganda goes 'you're an army of one' cats dwell in darkness / they aren't harming my sun disarm with spit guns as we farm the fit young endless toil / tarnished soil / inner-city alarmists weed out generations / we replant in the basement leave fans in contemplation / seeking inspiration i speak out til my face bend with psalms to disgraced men 2 4 6 8 10 we tackle talk in twos battle faulty crews / promptly rattle off the news still ignore the signs as vital organs die brain; leader / heart; artist / feet; worker / eyes; writer as an MC are you the mouth or the liver? get live-r destroy both but it's hard to repeat like toy boat annoy folks? I hope / employ flow til joy grows 'that boy's croned' / eyes open / even sober so determined to deter men to defer when a lone soul can't take the burden word wardens warding weaves to keep grand wizards from our sermons we're fervent with unlearning / hip-hop disperse the hurting sixth verse inversion / urban rhapsodies from gershwin we're back to these analogies / banal MCs rap fallacy without a plea / no self-pity / even god is doubting me make them listen when we shout I'm free avalanche – just the force bombing from up north selling them relevant etiquette / better than cheddar shit / pedal to metal retorts the underground torch / shine bright enough to blind here to move your feet, your mind, and your behind avalanche – the force coming from up north scoping smoking skogen showing shogun spoken from the source underground torch / shine bright enough to blind here to move your feet, your mind, and your behind my band will turn your fresh beats rancid if you're not buying the album you'd best be dancing
Camouflage 04:54
Is An Elegy 05:38
I'm sorry is easy to say when you've got arms to find solace in and lips to get drunk on I remain ink-stained disdain ingrained / are you feeling entertained? used to wonder what the pain was like when my father's heart exploded common art sold it but this won't settle for silence / now i'm volatile with self-violence trust me even patience wouldn't try this venerable eye-sense since I found a beat left dying on the street and took her home to pen-stitch the bleeding rhythm she'd been selling ism and we shared stories of correlating detonated coronaries it's beyond scary but fear is the little death and I'm no Maud'dib you colonized my Arrakis / helpless melange addict with the right tactic and the wrong practice faulty emotional stillsuit left me dehydrated and rap-less let the desert have me I didn't know it was the last kiss you never told me it was the last kiss so now you're gone I'll play the solo solar soldier that's internally ignited / now where's your coal to hell in an old soul / it can't burn like this trial by nostalgia / like it's all love all over or all just I guess I'm all folding god knows I can't deal holding sold trust thought I was quicksilver but his gold rush / beat my cold crush to the promised land took a last stand before that promise banned tried to show promise jazz but he wandered past my thumb and I hitched a ride alone to strife's home a microphone a pen and bad company to keep some things seem to seep out your pores / imbedded too deep to be indebted to speak I'll be better next week / in the bed where you freak / I'm dead as text / believe me it's not the sex no pity please / no patronizing subtlety suffering me / or irony laughing publicly comedy tragically badgering my process of not mastering loss yet game set to match light at least give me enough cash to get back right / airport sadness indeed and I train MCs sub-ways of emitting verbal rays but this shit's got me busted like mass transience or transcendence / because we all gotta transcend gotta transcend better my brother than my father / at least you kept it in the family I shouldn't have assumed / that as moons rise only astute eyes see my mind-scape's tenements bathed in light project-laden fright / night is the time I place self-wrought wooden dowels between street signs so as to build thought-ladders / the rungs my lungs exhale into you / admittedly codependent what makes it worse are the love locks in front of the gateway each day I add another / but your skeleton key sees through it all with three words / so why keep building if distance is the answer I can fake and call it ascension aka not giving attention to how I really feel I don't even know what rung that is my greatest regret was not making this ladder/letter for two I am what I write and I wrote this all about you I'm all about you
short-armed and under your influence / tonight i go boxing with words in a dark proud stance / nose dripping sweat / there's sprays a mess of life from my bloody lips blindly swinging at shadows / flaying the flesh of us both / people hurry by / eyes downcast fraying the line between maker and made / all white-knuckled ideas and exhausted tears still the effort pools at my feet / and i stomp and i scream and i punch like i dream with more abandon than perseverance / and for a pacifist i sure want to beat the shit out of the unseen my so-called soldiers are too busy making a scene / so i call on death and we become an unholy tag-team / undercutting rap dreams and spirit-slamming unbelievers yeah / me and death stomping creation in the streets / bellowing our crazed anthems with glorious fists like verbs / landing now on noun-nuns dave-dazed firing our mouth-guns into the skulls of walk-less talkies like rahhhhhhh! like Ra / head like 'so raw' / raw as vocal cords snapping / raw as our hands' skin drum-boxing the pseudo-enlightened resurrecting executed slaves to proclaim right crosses / burning through the immortal melee laughing with jabs / even eternal when slain death was dealing himself thin / so i tagged in and began round two: howl move burn change sing reach dance teach grow play scream give read live write die love cry cast fly guess wish ask train do act will make bleed march need start now black enters the fray and white tries to act gray i've stopped bleeding as death becomes sane and slowly retreats appalled at how much we're begging his favor / and twelve-year-olds afraid they won't get to use their gun before sunrise now the words dribble / stuttering incoherent / even rafis ferdinand has slumped himself home and i'm alone on the corner again / mumbling to nobody one solo backward is half-marching symphonic stub sickle shivering timbers intended to save backward solo one friends, country, justice / these are sounds quick forgotten by street fighters alpha / just aimless concepts like high schooling / my dueling / mc's spewing death standing next to death like 'you gonna eat that?' fuck / the world is spinning colors over my eyes and somewhere there's a gutter to kiss cats are pillars of static / i'm on some butterfly shit meta-morphing back into a warrior ablaze inside a fire inside a fire / feeding the sun's nuclear engine love / and one suddenly the block's deserted and buildings pretend to be trees we can't fight in the jungle of steel stolen screams i pick up a syllable scythe and slice my way to round three: ingest/embrace/inform/incite/ignite/encode/entrap/escape exude/instill/inspire/imbue/entail/intend/expound/infuse i enter a ring surrounded by everything and display my gloves to hoots and hollers 'audience!' i cry, 'it's time we let these words think for themselves.' the sun replies / washing my face / and i'm content to bask for a second... now bathed and solar-winded i turn center and see seven million objectives one by one they fall / risen / and smiling something wonderful for the sun has given daylight over to the stars to be on my side i look over and kill my senses / it's on / we are so on with fission psalms and diction bombs fixing throngs / eclipsing strong but not us who find all inherent all the sun's been here all along chilling with death and me and these battles will forever not be fought by us but the things we do without rallying the troops / plan / free that's an order / tall and strutting his self-righteous ass on corners, open mics, and the same tired discussion wake up to us / here's to shutting up and his followers in a glass box smoke-filled and falling our squad is too much / catching the earth stalling death and me and the sun makes three / answering the calling rhyme: coalesce. confiscate. activate. sacrifice. specify. teleport. captivate. catapult. exercise. advocate. disavow. saturate. culminate. cultivate. sensitize. occupy. remember. embody.
V. I. P. 06:39
you try to tell your feet to stay put bu the sky keeps reining you in / stretching air thin so float / cloud-charged over the dead city where steel people throw their hands up for what weather might bring and we are the twice-striking lightning fighting for a return to flesh mode without the culture-biting whitening flying past the easy anomaly that traps most seekers with thoughts of colorblind teachers and infinitely attentive students: analogy it's not that simple / it's more simple and human than numbers and tones people live in binary code and never get to three there's no eye left to see i'm living post-free, post-me, sending unmarked gifts care of your ears, packaged-pre catch us in a child's cheek as smiles wrinkle time in hell and thrice we come crashing down in thunderous ovations of our own making - little kids covering their ears because the truth is a loud foreign noise bad men telling good boys about the dangers of kite-flying on a night such as this so they leave copper keys locked in hearts forbade exposure lest another male sense sensitivity on such an epic level - a feminine step / fairies skip between our heavens lost in unburdened bliss not until you're dead though and ready to scorch the earth you made your immoral bed on these past decades blind the blind before they fall in skip bleed for me and we'll consider the application hurt like her and we'll acknowledge the fire die like this, this, and this here love learns to live burns and mistrust brief judgment from the sky it's round as it seems / to drop a metaphor supreme and the whole world a simile for dream meant to get foggy / shunning mental memory / too short-lived for what our bodies recall and what spirits are (still) called - it's waiting somewhere for all of us converting stuck feet to static charges in the stratosphere against the greater necropolitan area - a forward march - an all-out attack with war drums and battle lightnings storming globalized gates and stock-optioned automatons to win back young minds that have no idea of the power inside the space we're spread amongst - slice my tongue and let the rhymes drop down to stain the swords soft crush my feet in this mindless stampede to stay stupid on the ground tear out a floating heart and squeeze the juice over party-purchased plastic flowers because everyone needs to grow green and dry their eyes of shame and we are the twice-striking lightning beating the drum that brings the rain


released January 1, 2003

youngblood brass band as appears here:
nat mcintosh/the warrior – sousaphone, trombone, euphonium, tuba*
david henzie-skogen/dciph – snare drum and cymbal, vocals, percussion**
tom reschke – bass drum and cymbal
alex wilkens – tenor saxophone
the joe goltz – trombone
charles wagner – trumpet
jeff maddern – trumpet
mike boman – trumpet

this album was made entirely with horns, percussion and voice.
there is no sampling/looping of any instrument.

ben mcintosh – trombone on tracks 9 and 11
sam robinson – trumpet on tracks 9 and 11

center:level:roar recorded september 2002 in the terrarium, minneapolis, mn by jason orris except tracks 9 and 11 recorded and mixed march 2001 at madison media institute by travis kasperbauer

all other tracks mixed october 2002 by mike zirkel at smart studios, madison, wi

mastered october 2002 by kenny heitmüller for john hancock/independence nyc

produced by nat mcintosh

art and design by scott anthony pauli

copyright 2003 ozone music/layered music

all songs copyright 2003 n. mcintosh/d. henzie-skogen for layered music (SESAC) except:
track 6 copyright steve porcaro for steve porcaro music (ASCAP) / john bettis for john bettis music (ASCAP) / n. mcintosh for layered music (SESAC)
tracks 2, 4, 10, 11 and 14 copyright 2003 n. mcintosh for e pluribus bumpus music (BMI) all rights reserved
unauthorized duplication is a violation of applicable laws
*track 10 is all sousaphone. euphonium on tracks 12, 15. tuba on track 15.
**berimbau (5), gourd (1,12,15), congas (2,3), cowbell (2,3), tambourines (2,3,8,14), water jugs (13), wood shells (13), surdo (3), pandeiro (3,5), bamboo staves (12,13)


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Youngblood Brass Band Madison, Wisconsin

Original riot jazz crew, wrecking stages everywhere all the time since 1997. New EP 'Pax Instrumentals’ out now. Members are available for online lessons, commissions, arrangements, and custom studio work as well. Thanks for listening.

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