We put together a video for our song “Someone To Bring You Light”, off the digital EP, dig it Al, and our split 7″ with The Evil Eye, conjoined. Hope you like it. And if you do, please share it with your friends.
Here’s a sneak peak at our new video for “Someone To Bring You Light” off our EP dig it, Al.
The album can be downloaded here:
I’m writing again. Here’s a new short story. -mike
Originally posted on punch key drunk:
Ray walked along the crackled cement sidewalk, clutching his open paperback book in the fingers of his right hand, uninvolved in his surroundings of tall buildings and men coming home from jobs and sunglassed women swinging shopping bags determined in their gait. He didn’t understand them. They weren’t alive like the characters in the stories. His feet hit the ground and clopped with each clumsy step of his battle-scarred walnut chukkas. The rain drops fell hard and cold like his eyes onto the pages, hitting the words and dampening them, until they were blurred enough his glasses couldn’t make them out. The clouds had rolled in suddenly. You could still make out God’s fingers slightly breaking through behind the grey. It would pass. Everything does. Gently sprinkling, the rain felt good on his arms and cheeks and secretly balding brown hair—soothing the metropolis, not in this world, but in his head, breaking up the static even as the electric streetlights turned on in front of him one by one. The grey slacks he wore were old, dingy, his muted purple button-up unironed, the collar uncrisp and lacking stays, sleeves rolled up machinist’s forearms to the elbow, tight around them, almost unable to give with their bend.
Ray had been a good husband, but Stella left his efforts unnoticed. Roses wilted waiting for her on the pillow next to his. Silver necklaces with their little pendants and charms went unworn. Love letters penned during his lunch breaks remained folded, unread and unanswered by her actions. Maybe it was all his talk of needing other women—feeling afraid of commitment and the distress of never again touching another breast or the touch of another pair of accepting lips on his. The desperation of it all had come out in their pillow talks, so now hers was undented. Even though he never acted on these things, it was selfish of him to disclose his needs and Stella took it to heart and her heart to the bar, and her body, to the beds of the men she met in the bar.
Crossing the street, Ray followed the smoke from his cigarette. He wasn’t a quitter, but he spit the butt with its half-burned paper out of his lips anyway. It was a start.
Here’s a new song called “Saturday Night’s Alright For Writing” off our forthcoming LP, St/Art A/N r/eVoLuTIOn. It’s unmixed and unmastered. In other words, it’s fucking rough. But you can listen to it anyway.
This week, we’re giving away dig it, Al for FREE. Donations are gladly accepted though, as we’re trying to record a new LP.
Hope you like it!
For a limited time, when you buy a t-shirt, you’ll get a FREE download of our new EP, dig it, Al.