<a href="http://myfirstearthquake.bandcamp.com/album/crush">Pick Up Stick Up by My First Earthquake</a>

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Moving Pictures

One of our fans got a little carried away…


Pick Up Stick Up

Walking down, walking down,
Walking down 18th.
Turn right, turn left to get to the DP.
Go too far and you'll hit the GG.
But then you can stop
For some Mariachis

You want it. You saw it.
You blew it when you knew it.
You got it. You had it.
You blew it and you knew it.

Like I've seen before,
AM's at my door.
Wiping his feet again,
But this time as
Just a good friend.
HM was mysterious.
His main emotion furious.
Ditched his green card life
And secret wife for the pill czar.


Pick up, pick up, pick up
Stick up, stick up, stick up (3x)
Bah bye, bah bye, bah bye.
Bah bye. You're gone.

Symptoms demand a cause
Blisters protect what's raw.
Biases help to show
Which the PO will go.
Warning systems sound.
FoF off ground.
As the pavement pounds,
time hath come for the bloodhounds.
Watch the clipsters run.
The paraders just stare, stunned.
Dang how decisions get made
On this the park's hottest day.


Neon for You

I don't care what they say
Things get done everyday
The middle school, middle school way
He likes her. She likes him.
Nothing's done without a friend
To usher the crush to fruit.

I'll show you mine.
I'll see yours in the due time.
Yes, it's a sign.
Got neon for you.
Please take your time.
After all it's on your side.
We'll walk the line
Between teens and tissues.

Used to be simple peas
Sadie Hawkins, stretched SUVs
Don't ask him until you know
Now it's no sin to go all the way
And therapists tell us what to say
But we miss it—that crushed fruit.


Oh as time goes, grapes to wine goes (4x in a round)



We yell it.
It bounces back to us.
Ten-folded, like a stadium full of us.
Echoes off the salty beaches.
Symbolize what Masada teaches.
They built a ramp,
When they came back again
To our camp
But they did not win.

[Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhh]

Baby, those ain't manbreasts anymore.
They're sweet soft hills of the fatherland.
Calling me to come and have a tan.
And make good on your mother's plan.

Oh no, on ho.
Atisappap, pappasita.
Camel rides in the sweaty desert.
Bump in time if these beasts let us.
Dance floor in the holyland.
Hardcore in the palm's hand.
Bedouin tents set to let us
Experiment with who will bed us.
Pain of ages behind our eyelids.
Frisky tourguides making high bids.


This isn't Vegas, baby.
Sure, they got sand.
But there ain't no casinos
And what happens here
Comes home with us!


Ice Queen

You go out on a Tuesday night
You go grope and pout.
I stay in and curl up
with Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.
You come home smelling
Unlike your own cologne.
This romance is growing inverse
To my pant sizes.

We don't know, Oh, we don't know.

We don't know which way we're going
But surely, darling, either way it's snowing.
Let's give each other the cold looks
And walk in opposite directions.

Caution to the wind,
We return to the mount
Where we first sinned.
With nature cranking,
We are snowbunnies
In the frosty blanket.
Bears come to fight you
Just as frost starts to bite ya.
More than a situational sneeze,
Your heart's too frozen for anti-freeze.

We don't know, Oh, we don't know
[which way we're going]


Bum bum bum! (A TON)



Writing, recording, and producing an entire album takes forever. These songs didn't want to wait — they're summer songs, and they demanded release. Who are we to argue?

Recorded in spring 2010 at the infamous Hyde Street Studios during one long non-lazy Sunday with engineer Scott McDowell. Our producer on Downstairs, Anthony Molina, took the helm of our eager ship once more, and Carl Saff handled the mastering.

Enough talk — go download the EP. It's free. Yes, we love you too.


In addition to loving our fans and thinking they deserve the best that we can sing, strum, and bang for them, we believe that in the giant prairie of life, there will be a good karma tumbleweed that starts a rollin' because of this free EP. Prove us right. Download it here.


“Although a dash more polished and sophisticated, Crush is another dose of pure MFE awesomeness. Even with their sound a tad bit dressed up, MFE remains a uniquely funky and fresh sounding hidden San Francisco electro-rock gem.” - The Examiner

“Neon For You is a delightful slab of whimsical indie-pop in itself. All-in-all, it's another winner from My First Earthquake” - SF Weekly

“Its four songs ring true to MFE’s fun, clever pop with its upbeat rhythms and catchy melodies.” - The Bay Bridged

“As a result of this mesh of styles, Crush has this playful giddiness mixed with a buzzing distortion that comes from 80′s influenced synth, punk guitars, and modern indie pop’s happy-go-lucky and slightly experimental sensibilities all coming together.” - Radio KRUD