Because you left with a violent quickness
I think I just might enjoy this
The radio has fallen on the floor
And the battery pack is not where I left it
"Lay it on me," she said with a shining so-so spirit's essence
And your card read 302 Alameda Drive
So careful, aren't you?
All the trophy wives you can collect will one day rust
When the hour strikes we're the only ones that you can trust
Down in the murk of all the interstellar junk
That's in your closet
I'm just amazed and a little distraught that this is how it goes
But I won't cancel out your season
'Cause I don't have a decent reason
And the other side will look so blank but maybe it's subliminal
All the grooving vinyl of your past will turn to dust
I could sleep a dozen eons, all the while dreaming of your face
But don't think that I'm living it up
'Cause I'm not and I'm not and I'm not, not, not
Not a single sound to be heard around the tank in her backyard
All these light years wasted on the ascent of a wedding ring
But who am I to think that anything I say means anything?
All the time you drive yourself will make your stomach bust
I could sleep a dozen eons, all the while dreaming of your face
All the trophy wives you can collect will one day rust
When the hour strikes there will be no one left to trust
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