At last I am free. I can hardly see in front of me.¹ A crisis of infinite trees—I can’t see the forest. I can only see the seeds grow over fences and flat headstones. They shoot out of the earth like bones to an everlasting giant they’re building slow. Fuck this. It’s just like you said, “We’re no different from the dead.” We lie horizontal for days and slowly evaporate from our beds. It’s a form of self-hurt, of self-care. Plus there’s nothing better to do than to seize up and get scared. At last there’s no choice. There’s no principle. There’s no point. A choir of infinite voices swells through the wires on the ocean floor. I don’t want to be touched. I just want to be loved, or preserved in the perfect distance of someone else’s thoughts, like, “Oh, I remember Brad. They seemed like a lot.” Fuck this.
This outstanding compilation of bands from Indonesia puts a focus on atmospheric pop and rock music, with hooks 20-stories high. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 3, 2022
Taking cues from Midwestern emo and early ’10 pop punk, this Leeds, UK outfit are full of heart— not to mention hooks. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 21, 2022