Please don’t confuse my romance for desperation. Please don’t confuse my longing for fear. I’m reaching out a hand. You need to reach back.
There’s room at my mother’s for two. Room for two in a single bed. We can shoot birds or light fires in the entry. And if my ticks become too much, you can look away or read the Argos catalogue.
I choose you. Any of you. Choose me, too.
DOWNLOAD: Gross Magic – “I Don’t Care”
(Photo: Dan Simons)
The tears are yellow and oily, streaming rainbows across crumpling skin.
Through this haze of slow burning sadness, there’s kaleidoscopes, like when fists are pushed into eyes and memories reconfigure as prism patterns. There’s sun spots in the mind’s eye.
History’s written through this pain, until coming out the other side, aching to a slowly dying ebb in a new future.
Only coloured scar reminders remain.
DOWNLOAD: Welcome Back Sailors – “Love’s The Answer, Blame It”
(Photo: Randy P. Martin)
It’s hard to catch a breath in the city.
A lungful can weigh a ton in the sweated haze of where the days end and start.
Leaden grit wont come clean, dirty from our insides out.
But everything can turn around.
One day we’re all gonna turn around.
DOWNLOAD: Yellow Ostrich – “Mary”
(Photo: Sylvain-Emmanuel P)
Raindrops land like liquid balloons on hastening windscreens. Taillights merge a red thread that suddenly unravels at will as the day ends over our shoulder in a dying twin flame.
“I’ll write.”
“Sure”
DOWNLOAD: The Bat Caves – “I’m Gone”
(Photo: Jason Lee)
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Respect to Neu, I couldn’t get hold of this MP3 from the band.
How many songs are there left in the world? Do we have enough already? Does invention now only bleed through the seams of the past? Are we at the entrance to the end? Or worse?
If we do ever get to the end of music, there’s the extra dimension of Drew Price’s Bermuda Triangle to dive in to. Sucked from the stoned cosmos of his burned mind and passing under near every radar, he’s managed to piece together a three album collection of weirdo jams and fuzzy textures that’s a testament to both imagination and the isolation of the bedroom.
If you email him, he will send you forty-two songs and graciously request that you share them with everyone. I’m not going to do quite that, but “Lonely Road” did call out to me, because it feels like that’s exactly what Drew Price is walking down right now. Three albums in and still out there on his own? The man’s an island as much as a cosmic triangle.
DOWNLOAD: Drew Price’s Bermuda Triangle – “Lonely Road”
(Photo: Alison Scarpulla)
The connection between the pictures posted above and the songs posted below isn’t always clear on this blog. You can fill that space yourself.
But Wise Blood do sound a little as if a bomb went off inside a mac, probably somewhere around the point where cmd+C and cmd+V meet in some infinite circuit.
And then you Force Quit and start all over again.
Wise Blood – “B.I.G. E.G.O.”
(Photo: Lorna Jayne)
A ghost ship in a bottle.
Backs against the tide, weathering the storm in the uncharted fog of tomorrow.
In her wake, no waters breed or break.
DOWNLOAD: The Jameses – “The Haunted Rider”
(Photo: Marlon Rabenreither)
I thought all the Favours for Sailors songs existed online already. Then I found this gem hidden away, waiting to remind the world again of the immutable power pop tenacity of these once park dwelling miscreants (the parks now abandoned for steady and unsteady employment, I learn).
In an interview I recently did with the wonderful Neu, I fantasised about Favours for Sailors one day becoming this century’s The Nerves. Circumstances dictate that’ll likely never happen. But in all their songs, even in this one long since discarded by them, are the embers of that dream. I think that’s because each one of their songs is about either sex or money, or both. The relevance of those things never diminishes, even when the ability to obtain them decreases (i think there’s perhaps some kind of negative correlation there).
Now all we need is this century’s Blondie…
DOWNLOAD: Favours for Sailors – “Medieval Jon’s”
(Photo: Henry Mackay)
Once we were young and bold and knew nothing at all.
But that dream’s all fucked for good now.
So bring me infinite Nytol and eye masks. I wanna chase the memory back.
It’s the waking up that ruins everything.
Weird Dreams – “Hurt So Bad”
(Photo: Naked Brunch)
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Weird Dreams are the best new band I’ve heard in ages and you can, and should and will, buy their tape from the always on it Sleep All Day
A country retreat into the self gazing so hard inwards retinas ache and heave, eyes throbbing from the inside out.
Women – “Eyesore”
(Photo: James Jessiman)
