This new record has been in the works for what feels like a long time. So long, in fact, that it seems like a lot of people, us included, stopped believing it was really going to happen. The challenges of geography, too many bands and tours, and other more mundane aspects of adult life, all conspired to delay and discourage us. But here we are, despite these obstacles, with a new record and a renewed sense of purpose. And in a way, that’s what these new songs, and this band, are really all about. This music, and the culture and community that surround it, don’t really have an expiration date, even though the larger world around us would have us believe that these are childish things, to be put aside as we become responsible, productive citizens. Now, that is obviously bullshit of the highest order. But this isn’t about avoiding adulthood; it’s about redesigning it so that it doesn’t clash so violently with our most deeply held beliefs. It’s about the compromises we refuse to make, but also about the subtle negotiations between ideals/aspirations & day-to-day pragmatics. It’s about figuring out how to keep making noise even when life quiets down. Yes, it’s about parenthood, but it’s also about deliberately resisting corrupt mainstream value systems, even (especially) when they’re bombarding you from all sides. It’s about brutal, devastating loss. More than ever, it’s about alienation and outrage.
No Idea Records' pink vinyl third (we think) pressing of what PunkNews called "The #1 EP Of 2013". And who are we to disagree?
Recorded by Will Yip at Studio 4 as the moth 2012 became the butterfly of 2013.
Includes unlimited streaming of Invisible
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 3 days
(for Simone Rosa)
Good morning bright eyes. I watched you while you slept, reflecting on resolutions broken & promises kept.
You know we’ve got to fall before we walk, we’ve got to sink before we swim.
So have patience, stop checking the clock, and if someone locks you out, kick your way back in.
They’ll tell you what you are, they’ll tell you what you’re not.
They’ll surround you with mirrors, baby, don’t get caught.
They’ll reduce you, sterilize you, try to cut you down to size, too.
Shine too bright, they’ll say you’re just craving attention. You’ll run the gauntlet of their smirks and condescensions.
Did you run too fast? Did you fly too high? Did you see too much with your eyes open wide? I’d rather “yes,” be our reply, than have as epitaph, “Too afraid to try.” So we’ll dance like wild beasts, charged with disturbing the peace. And when it looks like things can’t get any worse, we’ll sing until our hearts burst. No compass, no maps. We’ll find our own way back.
And when things look bleak, I’ll kiss the tears from your cheek, and watch you clench your little fists in your sleep.