Walking at noon, rapt and burnt
The crumbling paths and scorching dirt
The ocean all kinds of blue
Blackbirds and snakes on the bare peaks
Their tremolo screech from the hillside
Down below the beach is never low tide
Going along under a dazzling sun
To feel with sad wonder
How all of life will become this
Suspicions grow too easily here
Scavengers on the wing
Over surf, and over rock
And land’s end’s closing on in
We sit and watch the waves coming in
We sit and watch the waves coming closer
We sit and watch the waves coming closer in
We sit and watch the waves coming – land’s end’s closing on in
Bring the guitars with the rusted strings
Sit on the sand as some fool sings
Languid tales of eternal things
Gently rock while the tension sings
Bring the guitars with the rusted strings
Sit on the sand as some fool sings
Languid tales of eternal things
But I can hear a different clarinet that sings
Pretty avant-pop with simple instrumentation and gentle bite from New York's Garcon No.1 cleverly subverts the torch song. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 13, 2020
Nashville’s Passion Fruit Boys nail the effervescent janglepop of ’80s college radio with bright guitars and immediate hooks. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 1, 2022
More feel-good indie from Brooklyn's A Great Big Pile of Leaves, all bristling guitar tones and expansive choruses. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 18, 2021