We go wading through the night, looking for a foothold in the strife, wanting to dance, but dancing alone. Imminent collisions coming to fruition, yet somehow I make it home to take that hit right to the dome.
Prop me up, wake me up.
Things are getting out of hand, the hands that I don't want to hold all point their fingers; like water, like liquor. I am a mirror, reflecting emotions. Keep quiet and the only sound will be the crashing of the ocean against the stoney shore.
The Minneapolis band add a horn section, a running surrealist allegory about walls, and an occasional nod to the elegiac to their electroshocked post-punk. Bandcamp Album of the Day Mar 4, 2024
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