1. |
In the Middle of Things
00:19
|
|||
2. |
Savagery in Indigo
04:29
|
|||
|
Dangerous decisions,
Backed by complicated memories.
Belie the ease of my decision
And the clarity of what’s to come.
All the tragedy,
The savagery in indigo.
Terrible heights, violent sights.
Seething bodies in the pulsing light.
Fourteen stories of indifference and quiet pain.
All the tragedy,
The savagery in indigo.
Daybreak.
Curtains inch their way across the ground.
Nearly every soul is asleep. Make the way out of town.
All the tragedy,
The savagery in indigo.
|
||||
3. |
Misdirected Ghost
05:39
|
|||
|
Urgency:
A misdirected ghost. Haunting
The empty halls of now.
A flickering, a buzz, a chime.
No time
Or inner life of mine.
More, more, more.
Count it all and die.
A flickering, a buzz, a chime.
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
Another Sunday morning in a world all on fire.
Clouds flee for shelter under Choking Tree.
A yellow star is still the light that keeps us breathing.
But now, it scalds and suffocates.
Wading in the wide green water, It all feels less divine.
Forever: On a timeline.
Crowds: Transfixed by the end of days.
Or, disenchanted, they will the world away.
Captured by the Rapture, Quarantined in Instagram.
Some things end, some things
begin again.
Will the river’s green endure When the singers are no more?
I feel so big, I feel so small: Nightmares of the fall.
Am I just in time or just too late?
Some things end, some things begin again.
Will the river’s green endure When the singers are no more?
I dream so big, I dream so small: Nightmares of the fall.
Am I just in time or just too late?
Another Sunday morning in fiery Freedom Summer.
The streets are our wide water, Our feet are marching hotter. Simple chants, enchanted dance. Love and hope demand:
Is this our last chance?
Some things end, some things begin again.
Will the river’s green endure
When the singers are no more? Some dreams live and some dreams die.
Am I?
Am I? Am I?
|
||||
5. |
||||
|
All the buildings still stand;
No roads or bridges are blown out.
A small miracle of light comes When I flick a switch.
Though the streets are not strewn with rubble,
So many bodies are pulled from the wreckage.
We are bloodied, we are gutted, Weeping through a fog of dust.
The tragic shame, The mounting pain.
No good comes from Adding loss to loss.
After the bombs
We rebuild the city.
After the plague
We have nothing but tomorrow.
Weeping through the fog to tomorrow,
Tomorrow,
Nowhere but tomorrow.
|
||||
6. |
Postcard
05:52
|
|||
|
Morning’s hope,
Trapped beneath an evening’s frost.
Sun’s radiant fingers
Reach out across a yawn.
The air is cold.
The frost is tight.
The melt’s pushed back to another time.
Will you rest or will you fight?
Does the sunlight kill you or give you life?
|
||||
7. |
Sandpiper
02:48
|
|||
|
Imagine a sunset careening across the sea.
Imagine your weary feet sliding up next to me.
Mirrored glass—a mast shoots through.
It rolls and tumbles like we used to do.
|
||||
8. |
Cold Shower
04:22
|
|||
|
Why do cold showers remind me of you?
It’s not that I held you there—
Though I thought about it once.
And it’s not in a memory of rain or fog or snow.
Just a glance that passed between us,
Or maybe I just dreamed it.
And we didn’t find shelter off a lonely road.
Or move to Brooklyn to sell our souls and
We couldn’t pay the rent.
Just a voice I overheard down the hallway,
Decrying the heat: “To the cold, cold shower!”
Maybe I saw her feet.
Details are fuzzy
But the memory’s set in stone.
It’s the middle of the day and I’m sitting in a room alone.
Surrounded by people
Who have no names,
have no faces.
Wondering out loud if it will feel like this forever.
Why do cold showers remind me of you?
It’s not that I held you there—
Though I thought about it once.
And it’s not in a memory of rain or fog or snow.
Just a glance that passed between us,
Or maybe I just dreamed it.
Maybe I just dreamed it.
|
||||
9. |
Infinite House
04:34
|
|||
|
I am limited Now
In what
I can see.
But worlds are opening up Inside me
Like doors to rooms
In an infinite house.
I do not go
Now
Wherever I wanna go.
But I never did and
We never could.
Things didn’t go
Just like we’d hoped.
In these quiet days,
Heart aching days:
I walk this infinite house.
I meet people,
I hear sounds.
I hear stories,
And I see forgotten places.
I see beautiful things
And I laugh.
I see terrible things
And I weep.
I recover and lose
Things upon things.
One day becomes
Its inverted image.
Hallways that run forever
Over icy seas of grey:
In this infinite house.
I am limited
Now.
And I meet the limits that are me.
This infinite house is
Mine,
And I am an infinite explorer.
But mostly it remains
Unmapped,
Unknown
Even to me.
Still, the walking is good.
Seas don’t feel so cold:
In this infinite,
In my infinite house.
|
||||
10. |
No: Resolution
06:38
|
|||
Thomas Catlaw Tempe, Arizona
Thomas is a sound recordist, audio engineer, musician, and researcher living in Tempe, Arizona.
If you like Thomas Catlaw, you may also like:
Lichtenberg Figure
by Sculpture Park
Sprightly chamber-pop melodies commingle with sprawling, post rock-esque sequences across the UK band's debut.
go to album
Delightful and delirious shoegaze from this NYC group, with syrupy guitars and dreamy vocals.
go to album
A fascinating mash-up of jazz sensibility with Krautrock motorik on an album that mesmerizes with repetition.
go to album
But the Weight of Comfort Pulled Me Back Down
by Glasshealer
This Austin group surrounds sturdy vocal melodies with stargazing guitars and electronics.
go to album
Kill Your Memory
by Heaven For Real
Nostalgic indie rock on this Pavement-tastic debut from Halifax with a video about what happens after hours in an office building.
go to album
A Thought Is Not A Feeling
by Tiflis Transit
Smooth, sophisticated pop with neoclassical flourishes from the Berlin-based duo of Fabian Till and Birk Buttcherey.
go to album
Me Chama De Gato Que Eu Sou Sua
by Ana Frango Elétrico
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 22, 2023
go to album
