1. |
||||
|
Heavy limbs to be carrying around
So how can you not levitate?
How do you stick to ground?
It’s quite risky to be awakened so early
You can cry and run out of tears
Just remember the ritual ‘cause rerun is after tonight
It’s quite nice to see the sunrise
I’d rather baptize the afternoon as
my time to rise
This system does not support this version
of cruelty and emotional abuse
Since our birthday the first of them all
life grabbed us by the neck, life grabbed us by the neck
Always tight on, always tight on breath
Slowly strangled until death
Burning eyes and dead cold stage
The struggle lies in dragging each word (Once I wasn’t sure if hypnotized or too tired x82)
to its place
Morning a sadist she’s thrilled by our
masochist selves
We all now hell and
everybody secretly wishes a comma
just to sleep well
|
||||
2. |
About the Landscape
05:09
|
|||
|
Why do you smile at me?
I don’t know you
Why does the sun stalk me?
It’s cold wherever I go
Is it just me or is it too bright?
Even before I wake up
Why would you know?
Why would you know?
Why would you know?
About the landscape
Why do stare like that?
I don’t know what it means
Can I be a part of you people?
I could fit just right
Could you make this easy?
I’m just so busy these days
How could I learn?
How could I learn?
How could I learn?
About the landscape
About the landscape
|
||||
3. |
My Red Door
03:23
|
|||
|
The past had its wood
but now we got steel
Until I fell sick
I used to drink beer
then steer the wheel
Bamboo doesn't just
fall on people's heads
It falls on the floor
its underground roots
can't pull through
Making my way through a red door
I know I'm dead
These serpents in my bed
are just decor
Carved in wood bathed in gold
I love gold
but MY RED DOOR!
It's crowded out here
I faint from these deals
If it's not the smog
the same air I breathe
is the one you steal
So many of me here...
don't know how I feel
Imagine your friends,
when they talk to you,
now think you're two
Making my way through a red door
I know I'm dead
These serpents in my bed
are just decor
Carved in wood bathed in gold
I love gold
but MY RED DOOR!
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
I’ll go deaf
to the sound of your
soaring voice
a gleam of light
Hug me now
hug me guitars
I’m cold
Take me far
get me high
If I’m gonna die
I’d wanna die right here
There’s no other place
I’d rather die than here
Shelter me in your waves
pushing through the air
is being bent
soundstorm’s here
Wrap me in fuzz
Blankets of god
for myself
And only for myself
only for myself
If I’m gonna die
I’d wanna die right here
There’s no other place
I’d rather die than here
|
||||
Assassin of Youth Brooklyn, New York
fell on a dump of toxic waste and got perfect pitch and super fast guitar fingers
Assassin of Youth recommends:
You've never heard music like this before
go to albumIf you like Assassin of Youth, you may also like:
Into the Light
by Franklin Gothic
Rich and rococo indie pop songs define this LP from Franklin Gothic, a light psychedelic sheen washing over all of it.
go to album
California (Remastered)
by The Lassie Foundation
This late ’90s shoegaze record gets a full remaster on the advent of its 25th anniversary, its woozy melodies brighter than ever.
go to album
In The Marigolds
by Jim Nothing
Slashing and hooky, this LP of guitar-driven pop is just as heavy on scuzzy riffs as it is on beatific harmonies.
go to album
Hazy, jangly, a little bit mournful—Bay Area indie pop one-man-band Orange Dots channels the spirit of Sarah Records on his latest.
go to album
These four songs from Melbourne-based Market are low-lit and soothing, soft vocals swaddled in tender guitar lines.
go to album
