Indie band from UK. This is not your run-of-the-mill, three-chord garage band. They are four excellent musicians; their music is rich & complex; their lyrics are full of imagery. A happy surprise.
Favorite track: '98 Buick.
we put the silence down to a shift in tastes and attitudes, but now we seem content to settle for each other. now i pierce your thinning skin with increasing ease and frequency. paper cracks with repetition of three words i'm unsure i mean: half as much as when i was young and naive. i thought this was just a bad phase passing by. stumble home with indentations in tight lips stained burgundy, back to back we lay to sleep, retreat, to live vicariously in our dreams: where we're still young and acting irresponsibly. not calculating time we've wasted here. we both know by now, suspected so for quite some time: it's over.
Track Name: Peripheral
always concerned by the prospect of an imminent collapse. so you're always careful but careful only keeps you moving sideways into familiar disappointment. so now you strain sinews but cannot rouse yourself up out of bed. always been prone to slowly blending until peripheral. nursing your wounds: resigned yourself to spending all your fridays finding fault with everything. so now you feign sickness so you can stay at home.
Track Name: '98 Buick
i kept my mouth sealed shut, like the window on the front passenger side of the buick as it inched across the stateline. gridlock on the toll bridge again. so i kept my eyes fixed up on rusted steel, under slate keystone sky. in the buick, you asked me then: when i would grace the garden state again? and i replied: "right now it's hard to say for certain".
Track Name: I-78
early august and our thoughts will turn to time elapsing, edging closer towards autumn nights alone and idle now: at the lehigh and delaware's confluence you wait to reprise slumberous summer days we spent indoors. so you keep your fair skin in the shade, keep it from turning crimson and try to savour every second. early august and our thoughts will turn to time elapsing, edging closer towards autumn nights and i am unprepared: to go back to leaning on familiar crutches in hope that fissures don't open up and eat us whole. i go eastbound on '78, back to to commitments calling: cast my mind back to carolina.