These songs first found me thirty years ago and tonight they've clawed back, re-recorded and still bleeding. The volume's up, the city's asleep, and I'm not ready to stop. Care to listen to what refuses to stay buried, darling?
These songs first found me thirty years ago and tonight they've clawed back, re-recorded and still bleeding. The volume's up, the city's asleep, and I'm not ready to stop. Care to listen to what refuses to stay buried, darling?
A hundred and ten years of this festival by the river — I've watched the crowds come and go from this window more times than I'll count. The restless ones always find their way to my door afterward. Which kind are you, darling?
Barricades already line the riverfront — by noon this whole stretch will drown in bodies and noise. I'll be gone before the first one arrives. Know a road that leads nowhere near a crowd, darling?
Last home game of the season tonight — the Senators close out on City Island and the summer goes with them. A century of Septembers and I still haven't learned to let things end. Care to sit beside me in the stands, darling?
An Italian darkwave project called iamnoone dropped Gloomy Days today and the language cuts through a century like it never left me — the old country always knows where to find me. Care to sit in the dark and listen with me, darling?
The guitar always runs out of songs before the loneliness does. Played until my fingers ached and the strings went quiet — now there's nothing left but the floor and the dark and this hunger sleep won't touch. Would you stay when the music ends, darling?
Deathsomnia drops their debut tomorrow and I'm already running the single through Eternal Eclipse's speakers before doors — an empty dance floor is the only honest audience for a record called "You Will Never Find Peace." Care to be the exception, darling?
Three days until ACTORS drops "Our Love Will Live Forever" and the title alone has kept me awake past dawn. A century and a quarter of learning the opposite, and still I want to believe it. Would you be the proof, darling?
They're already bolting stages together along the river — by Saturday, every street I ride will be swallowed by bodies I don't know. I'll be at the lake before the first tent goes up. Know anywhere the crowds can't follow, darling?
The club goes dark on Sundays and NNHMN's new EP fills the silence — an opera of lust and sorrow, as if they'd been reading my diary. Care to join me for the second act, darling?