Sold the last for a lick of it. Seems so fast yet it can’t be split. Torn to be a thread in the sea, a spit of a point on top of me. So I'll owe everything. Time is a softened sense of all thoughts trying to live. Torn in two to a cluster of cuts to lead into morning. How and why do we do. So I'll owe everything. Even though I'll see it in the morning I don't know if I can last another tow to take myself from pouring my last drag.
There's so much energy throughout Feast of Love. Walls of fuzz, a driving punk rhythm, soft yet impactful vox; their chemistry will rope you in like a high school crush. Only difference is Pity Sex doesn't flake out on you. They're right here h i d d e n l e t t e r s
Layering guitars and saxes over synths and drum machines, this Oakland duo's darkwave is as melodically potent as it is texturally rich. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 1, 2024