---
title: "P.A.R.T.S."

meaning: "FEiN 2017: purpose visible thirty miles away, tower and terrace greed: compromise is for the poor; New Orleans parade bridge into late-stage capitalism and octatonic scale."

year: 2017
release: "P.A.R.T.S."
releaseType: "single"

artist: "FEiN"
artistId: "#fein"

coWriters: ["Brandon Michael Woodward"]
credits: "Written by Luke Francis Walton and Brandon Michael Woodward (FEiN). Produced and recorded at Tiny Giant Recording. Mixed and mastered by Frank Rosato."

spotify: "https://open.spotify.com/track/6rxLTaLscf1nrgdXSUTRAi"
apple: "https://music.apple.com/us/album/p-a-r-t-s/1216076785?i=1216077047"

themes: ["FEiN", "capitalism", "2017", "octatonic", "sound design"]

isrc: TCACZ1712970
isrcSource: soundexchange
lyrics: |
  Purpose is visible from 30 miles away
  Concrete expands additional, vertical
  Working our way into the ever-looming void
  Making more room to store your new vehicle

  Compromise is for the under-achieving poor

  Honey I need that paper
  Baby I want that 24
  Can't stand a lowered carrot
  The hell do you think I'm running for?
  Honey I need that terrace
  Baby I want my room to grow

  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe that ain't the point at all
  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe I missed the point believing in it all

  Shaking foundation
  Problematic, unforseen
  Silence becomes our only way to proceed
  Dying by the dozen
  Hurry put their parts on ice

  Thirty miles away
  We'll watch our tower fall
  And take a holiday

  Compromise is for the under-achieving poor

  Sacrifce everyone
  The bread is worth more

  Honey I need that paper
  Baby I want that 24
  Can't stand a lowered carrot
  The hell do you think I'm running for?
  Honey I need that terrace
  Baby I want my room to grow

  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe that ain't the point at all
  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe I missed the point believing in it all

  Honey I need that paper
  Baby I want that 24
  Can't stand a lowered carrot
  The hell do you think I'm running for?
  Honey I need that terrace
  Baby I want my room to grow

  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe that ain't the point at all
  Oh
  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe I'll never have it
  Maybe I missed the point believing in it all

draft: false

---

**FEiN** single (**2017**, ℗ Tiny Giant), co-written by **Luke Francis Walton** and **Brandon Michael Woodward**. Mixed and mastered by **[Frank Rosato](/with/frank-rosato/)**. Post-*Little Homes* 2017 cluster with [*LOVED*](/songs/loved/), [*It's Alright*](/songs/its-alright/), [*Fear*](/songs/fear/), and [*All Mine*](/songs/all-mine/). [Fresh Beats 365](https://freshbeats365.com/2017/03/28/listen-fein-parts/) called it the duo's weirdest yet: melody through the centre, occasional funk guitar, otherwise *a landslide of everything you've come to expect* modulated through *sonic fuckery*.

Development as religion, want as campaign. The skyline rises into *the ever-looming void* to make *more room to store your new vehicle*, and the refrain lands like policy: *compromise is for the under-achieving poor*. Even the candidate's pitch undercuts itself, *maybe I missed the point believing in it all*.

The bridge (~2:26) is one of Walton's favorites in the catalog: New Orleans parade energy marching into late-stage capitalism, a heavy sound-design collage that reaches into the **octatonic (diminished) scale**, the symmetric scale he later unpacked on [Love Music More: *My favorite scale: the Octatonic*](https://open.spotify.com/episode/4GmI9j82bEvJLZ2mwEEmFR) (Sep 2021). Bodies become inventory (*hurry put their parts on ice*) and the opening vantage returns as collapse-tourism: *we'll watch our tower fall / and take a holiday*. FEiN maximalism at its most structurally unhinged. It sits with [*American Man*](/songs/american-man/) (national male want) and [*#Grownupz*](/songs/grownupz/) (never growing up) as an American-appetite song, but *P.A.R.T.S.* is the production-forward freakout.

---