1. |
|
|||
|
"Once you have given up the ghost, everything follows with dead certainty, even in the midst of chaos."
— Henry Miller (Tropic of Capricorn)
Park Street Sure is Lonely Tonight
They swarm like maggots, they buzz like flies
They’re holding conferences,
They’re telling lies
…and really,
I’m one of them
I’m daft, I’m wretched
I (too) debase my fellow man
“I know what his problem is, he tries too hard
goes home every night, to play a sad guitar”
when opportunity comes, catch it if you can
as for me, I’ll like my wounds and try to be a descent man
alone with lonely thoughts
writing “L.O.V.E.” in inky blots
not wanting to be forgot
with empty humility
I offer friendship
With rare propensity
I give you my word
But if the meek shall inherit the earth
Than with wanton desire,
We will all perish in the fire
Yeah, I’ve been told,
That you never get used to the heat
I can’t tell if it is hot or cold
Tonight, here on Park Street
…I’ll never get used to the heat…
…I’ll never get used to this…
|
||||
2. |
The Waiting Game
05:00
|
|
||
|
”People don’t love each other at our age, Marthe –they please each other, that’s all. Later on, when you’re old and impotent, you can love someone. At our age, you just think you do. That’s all it is.”
-Albert Camus (A Happy Death)
The Waiting Game
I owe you nothing.
There is nothing left to give.
Call it what you will
But some of us need reasons to live.
We lay with daggers
Yet we can ‘lie’ for ever
We keep climbing ladders
To bluer skies, and greener pastures.
“Well, here’s hoping”
I’ll sleep with one eye open
A clever hand works those curtains
The future remains uncertain
and I’ll be hoping
and I’ll be sleeping with one eye open
We owe you nothing
We gave all we could give
‘The Bastards of the Young”
The unwanted daughters, the unfortunate sons
We keep getting chances
And we keep making them count
but we keep coming home empty
We let our fires burn out
All you little boys:
Bring your slings and arrows
All you little girls:
Bring your nightshade in bows
We came here to dance
We came here to fight
But I came here to win.
Let the games begin.
A vicious game,
We play ourselves
We hurt the ones we love…
…but we love what we sell.
|
||||
3. |
|
|||
|
“More Weight”
-Giles Corey
The Legacy of Giles Corey
Pious theocracy.
Subservience. Hypocrisy.
Song and play,
all forbidden.
To speak your mind is to do the Devil’s bidding.
Patriarchy: serve the Father.
Be married quick, bare child young mother.
Mind your tongue,
You stand accused.
Before the court, they are amused.
“Did you write your name in the Devil’s book?”
Just one bad look, that’s all it took.
Condemned; by your neighbor’s decree.
Tell me now: how do you plead?
Fast forward to the present day
fire up the engines of the Enola Gay
A new sovereign nation is a few bombs away,
the underground still wants radio play.
To seize your land, to end your life
If it is God’s will, then it must be right?
Three hundred years on, how quickly we forgot
Some blame witchcraft…
…others blame ergot.
Stone by stone
They won’t leave you alone
You best confess
Or feel the weight of the press
But when they steal your bread
You are better off dead
And in that moment of dread
Only two words were said:
“More Weight”
Give me more fucking weight.
|
||||
American Ethos
If you like American Ethos, you may also like:
On their 3rd release, this North Carolina-based trio continue to blur the lines between roots rock, folk, pop, and country styles.
go to album
The Power Of The Heart: A Tribute To Lou Reed
by Various Artists
Keith Richards, Rosanne Cash, Lucinda Williams, Joan Jett, and more pay tribute to the enduring and visionary music of Lou Reed.
go to album
A Chaos Of Flowers
by BIG|BRAVE
Leaning into the sparse, impressionistic sound of 2023's albu "Nature Morte," the Montreal metallurgists sound as heavy and radiant as ever.
go to album
The Seattle band work around the edges of shoegaze and dream pop with a rare sense of clarity and momentum.
go to album
Every Bird Ever [Album]
by Ilithios
The new record from Brooklyn indie group Ilithios is full of big-hearted songs with the hooks to match.
go to album
This Could Be Texas
by English Teacher
The UK upstarts' debut veers from sunny, psychedelic folk to bristling post-punk with reckless abandon without ever missing a beat.
go to album
Move To The Trees
by Winter McQuinn
Winter McQuinn mixes soft rock and psychedelic folk for a sound reminiscent of classic pop purveyors like Cut Worms and the Lemon Twigs.
go to album
