by Springfield

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Springfield is:

Noah Jurkiewicz • Guitar
Mike Rosenberg • Drums
Ethan Kotel • Bass

Produced, engineered, and mixed by Ethan Kotel at Hazarai Studios.
Mastered by Dave Otero at Interlace Audio.
Recorded in the Jurkiewicz basement.

All music written by Noah Jurkiewicz and Ethan Kotel.
All Lyrics written by Noah Jurkiewicz.
Narrations performed by Beth Davison and Carlton Bone.

Artwork and layout done by Michael Howarth of Brierly Illustration.

This album was written between March 2014 and August 2014
This album was recorded in August 2014.


released December 1, 2015

Springfield would like to thank:

Dave Otero, A.J. Quintanar, Nick Nodurft, Steven Jackson, Ghosts of Glaciers, Alex Pace, Dreadnought, Secrets of the Sky, Tigerwine, Michael Howarth Aaron Saye, 7th Circle Music Collective, Trunk Space, Jason Chavez, and all the other bands and venues we’ve had the honor of play at and with, including all that we couldn’t name. To awesome DIY venue owners, patrons who keep the underground scene alive, and of course to all our listeners and fans, without you there would be no Springfield.

Noah – My parents to whom I owe all I have for putting up with loud band practices, endless recording sessions, and just always supporting me. My friends for always being there and calling me out when they know I’m full of it. Lastly to my band mates for love, support, and making sure no sleep was had on the road.

Mike - My friend Foggy Nelson for being supportive as well as my friend Bailey, Phil Collins and John Bonham for being heavy influences in making the drum patterns for this album, and my parents for the support of the band even through the difficult times. Lastly, my fellow band mates for this memorable experience. To these memories I will hold and turn at last to paths that lead home.

Ethan - My parents for their endless support of my musical endeavors, my friends for putting up with constant polling and mix critiques, as well as listening to my songs at all times of the night, and lastly my band mates for the experience and love.



all rights reserved


Springfield Denver, Colorado

We make noise.
Noah Jurkiewicz.
Mike Rosenberg.
Ethan Kotel.

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Track Name: Alaska
Is it sad that I feel comfortable in this hospital? It starts with one moment that leads to another and then another. One bad decision that sends you spiraling out of control. The Percocet prescribed to heal me ended up being what I needed to survive. It gave me false hope and a sense of security. One pill turned into 2, into 3. Soon enough I would become numb, but in reality I was becoming just as empty as the void in my womb. The pills kept coming, and I kept taking: the only thing holding
me together. I thought I had hit rock bottom, but I was far from it.
Track Name: Westerlies
She thought she was the only one affected by it. She pushed everyone away: her friends, her family, me… She didn’t even notice we were all gone. She was too subdued by her delusional dreams and drug addiction to look up and see she was alone. She may still be alive, but she is lost to me. She is an empty glass that can never be filled again. Lost on the shelf, waiting to be remembered and thrown away. One loss was enough for me, and as she fell, each drink became so much easier to swallow.
Track Name: Lune Fille
The drugs may be gone, but the void was still there. There is always a way to fill up the cavity. The question is whether you are making it worse or healing it. After my release, the scalpel found its way to my skin again. Etching its marks into my body as a constant reminder. Most nights ended with sirens, and the floorboards soaking wet. My days were numbered. The more I tried to console myself the more blood was spilled. Did I want the attention? Did I want to be saved? No. What I wanted was the sick comfort this new pain provided. It provided me a new home. It gave a means to justify the end.
Track Name: The Maw
The white sterile walls, an uncomfortable hospital bed. The scars covering my body, the gnawing pain of chains, the burns on my ankles and wrists barely register anymore. I can’t move, and I am forced to deal with reality. I am like the house I once lived in, empty and barely standing. I didn’t want to be here, but I didn’t feel trapped in this hospital: I was trapped in my own thoughts. Screaming and clawing trying to find my way back but I was too far-gone. I have been devoid of hope and I have had no plan on coming back. Maybe….