Ghost of a planet who collided into us left all her bones up in the sky and you can feel them pull the water, we wobble to and fro head bowing to the sun, we need her like we need the weekend, we need relief from all this spinning around
So we wait until it's dark and you can see that shiny skeleton, it lights you like a lantern glowing from the inside until you tear off all your clothes and jump into that water trying to quench it out
And when the pigs show up for once you're not afraid, you know they're more intimidated by your naked boyd, their noses smell the free expression they can't access, and you watch their faces grimace as they swallow venom and saliva down
You laugh it off as you walk down the empty street, listening for the faintest rattlings of those fossilized teeth, the way they grind against the wind it almost forms vocalizations that say "you are not..."
This Calgary group makes goth-y post-punk attired in the brightly colorful arrangements of bleep-boop synthesized psychedelia. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 3, 2024
This split EP from two France-based musicians is a gem, both artists recalling the glory days of slowcore in their heart-tugging melodies. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 11, 2023
A nostalgic record full of ambling rhythms, vivid imagery, and cotton-soft melodies tapped out on an ever-present ’70s synth-organ hybrid. Bandcamp Album of the Day Nov 11, 2021