Can I help you with something before the competition
Steps in and sinks their teeth in it until it's not your vision?
These are dangerous games that we play
And I'm trying to teach myself that every day
Catchy tales of the middle shelves
That nobody thinks are worth hearing
Open sores from the private hell that burn like a cigar
Bullets from the smoking gun
That are this close to being endearing
Time, the mere discrepancy between a birthmark and a scar
And the elements are slandering my name
As I lie under the tires of your car
But I'm still so very happy that you came
Like a tie between a birthmark and a scar
I need something more in the spirit of wanting
When the luck runs out
But the source of it remains there taunting
Handy grams that grab your plans
And push them through the wringer
Police trucks that align themselves with the patterns in the stars
Televised queen bee cries, she was born without a stinger
Holy smoke from the holy ghosts
Of the past, the present and the future
Tom Snowden, from Alice Springs, Australia, turns in six soft, Arthur Russell-y covers of favorites from Björk, Kylie Minogue, and more. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 11, 2020
Recorded on the Grecian isle of Hydra, this is blissed-out psych pop with stacked falsetto harmonies and luscious arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 9, 2023
Two dozen 12-string acoustic improvisations that feel undeniably haunting, like lost transmissions from ancient Appalachia, rediscovered. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 17, 2022