the tips of my fingers are calloused
napkins full of lyrics strewn across the floor
there's a thickening air of frustration
and a scavenger hunt for a vague metaphor
i'm a killer, an anchor, a barstool
i'm a soldier, a vagrant, a merchant, a god
and my heart is a black hole, a sign post
it's the only way i can feel normal at all
is to keep writing words and keep crossing them out
to pull out my hair and then curse at the sound
that evolves from my mouth
when the song becomes noise becomes
i will try every time zone
each room of the house
search for new inspiration
from old stomping grounds
cause i'm sitting, not standing
not living, creating in vain from a false misery
i don't want to give the song away this time
no oh no
i don't want to give the song away this time
once it hits someone's ears
then it's no longer mine
it's my rock and it needs to stay mine
this blood on my hands marks my
blood on my hands marks my
i'm still the killer
Humorists, folks-men, dark humorists at times, growing in sophistication with each album yet never losing their vibe of basement creation. Blacktop Musical
The gentle lo-fi songs on the latest phoneswithchords LP develop their granular sketches of childhood and coming of age into full portraits. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 25, 2023
The new Field Medic LP is the indie rock project's most vulnerable, using sharp humor to make self-reflection emotionally resonant. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 18, 2022
A vibrant vision of "Central Americana" from the Costa Rica-based artist, blending heartland devotionals with playful Tropicália grooves. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 27, 2022