god was a black smudge on the white paint
of the rooftop where we sat
a dirty fingerprint not wiped away
but left there & forgotten about
me & my brother don't drink water
we don't breathe in oxygen
yet we talk & talk & talk
we talk
i am my father, i am my father
in the cold outside the bar
no angel tongue, no small white dog
to take me up where you were sitting
i see a worry in your eyes
"hold on to your birthright"
i don't need it anymore
on swollen tongues our words are lost
we're lost
where did you get the idea
i still owed you anything of mine
this old guitar couldn't be worth more
than maybe a couple hundred dollars
& you, you were merely a castle i built
from the sand, all wrought with fear & self-deprecation
the waves will ruin when they come
they come, they come
& i don't know what it is that keeps me waking
i don't know what it is
& i don't know where you went when you went driving
i don't know what it is
Our good friend Brendan Walsleben's solo project. Think Pedro the Lion's Control with a dash of Sonic Youth, & you've got States, his debut LP. Dynamic, emotional, & raw. Check it. The Mechanicals
The duo of Sascha Höfer and Bertram Kolar command an "island of sound" on their debut EP, contrasting warm hooks with turbulent dynamics. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 16, 2022