I don’t recognize this place anymore
A cold wind blew in when I closed the shutter
We held the world in broken glass
Obsessed with madness
What a life we had back there
Time makes loneliness of the years
Did you know you can’t go home again?
So climb out of the basement you’re hiding in
Put out your cigarette and walk home from the apartment
There is a world outside these walls and it’s changing beyond our grasp
Your father’s gone and not a God like we once thought
While your mother is face down on the sidewalk
you inherit the habit that kicked her mind to the gutter
And the rain floods in where the drought began
To teach us that every home we’ll ever know is broken
And you’ll be drenched to the bone when you fail to outrun it
They slam the back doors and turn the keys
These roofs are levees that no longer contain the rage
the walls caved and families gave in
Those dented walls mark domestic insanity
I went the same way, fell over your boots in the back room, wondering:
if there’s an antidote, prepared for a life without purpose, peace, or hope
But we found hope, we found vision despite miles of paved blank pavement
There is a world outside these walls so unhinge your heart and let us go
Your sons and daughters are free to search this out on their own
We’re where we need to be. Just let us go. Every home we’ve ever known is broken.
On their debut record, the London hardcore upstarts cross-up mosh-ready fare with melancholic ambient passages, weeping guitars, and virtuosic vocal harmonies, but its romantic veneer is much more complicated than it seems. Bandcamp Album of the Day Jan 30, 2019
Knockout debut from a Buffalo, New York-based hardcore band who like their riffs sick, their drums fast, and their choruses sticky-sweet. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 28, 2024