Homeroom Ghosts by Crammer

# HOMEROOM GHOSTS

Okay so we literally wrote this album in Josh's mom's basement over like six straight weekends fueled by nothing but gas station energy drinks and those weird off-brand pizza rolls. Totally worth it though.

"Homeroom Ghosts" is basically us putting all those end-of-high-school feelings into eight tracks that'll make you want to both scream into your pillow and high-five your best friend. You know that weird pit in your stomach when you realize everything familiar is about to change? That's what we bottled up here.

We cranked the guitars louder, pushed the drums harder, and actually learned how to use dynamics this time (Mr. Pearson from band would be shocked). "Twelfth Bell Standoff" kicks it off with that classic hallway sprint energy, and by the time you hit "Soda Stains," you'll feel like you're right there with us in that mall parking lot at 11 PM, sticky hands and all.

Not gonna lie, recording "Left Field Goodbye" nearly broke us. Tommy had to step outside after three takes because it hit too close after Coach Miller left mid-season last year. But that's the whole point of this album - it's about watching your world flip inside out while trying to hang onto your beat-up Vans and those stupid inside jokes that nobody else gets.

Our producer (aka Kevin's older brother with a MacBook) pushed us to try that vocal round thing on "Left Field Goodbye," and Meg from drama club jumped in for backup vocals on "Mall Lot Sunrise" which honestly saved the whole finale.

If you've ever felt like your entire life was happening in fluorescent-lit hallways and sticky cafeteria tables, or found yourself sitting on a curb somewhere wondering what comes next - this album's for you. We're all just scrambling through these ghost-filled halls together.

PS - That feedback squeal in "Locker 222" was totally intentional. Definitely not because Darren tripped over the pedal board. Don't @ us.

Late night cramming sessions turned into power chords - we're three caffeinated misfits writing anthems for the detention crew. Fast guitars, snotty vocals, and drum beats that hit harder than Monday morning pop quizzes. School sucks. Music rules. Let's go.