*is's listening history
Cover of Bruce Springspleen...er Springsteen. Please take as a whole and listen through...
Tom: vox, guitar
Kat: vox, keys
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Yours was the soul
footsteps and breath and river all drone
memories lash
I trudge alone
trails turned foreign
paths unknown
since I don't have you
distant dog barking drifts by on the breeze
emptiness crushes
I fall to my knees…
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The last couple of years have been soaked in sadness, numbness and loss, and it's not something I've tried to hide, even when making music. But I've come to realize that it's my own responsibility to lay forth the effort to find new happiness…
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Now that 2020 is hindsight* and we're probably on the cusp of civil war, I decided to resurrect my Covid-era song written in June 2020. It seems to have new meaning. Hopeful? Resentful? Inspiring? Deeply pessimistic? Maybe yes.
Kat: lyrics…
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Because y'all like weird crap. Thanks, Tom, for the idea of writing from the perspective of a dead person watching their body decompose.
Kat: lyrics, keys, vocals
Once I was composed
eyes of stars, lips like a rose but
what am I worth…
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The beginning soundbite was my attempt to record a seething pile of maggots nom-nom-noming on a critter of indeterminate identity off the side of the road. Cleaned it up, slowed it down. It's not that effective, I know, but you get the picture…
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