Your alcoholic father died when the vessels in his throat, they capsized, and drowned him in blood: his own. And so your despondent mother tried to fill in all the gaping holes in her life with escalating addictions, alone. You left home when you turned 16 with some people you met and admired, because they denied the vices that plagued your home. But their aggressive stance began to seem an abusive form unto itself, so you took flight. You hitchhiked out of the city alone. You tell me what you've seen. You imply the in-betweens, and leave searing red ellipses at the end. You think your friends won't understand. Yeah, they just won't understand. They can think they'll understand, but they won't. They won't. One day you'll wake as dusk creeps in, and strip off all your filthy clothes, stained with wine, and take them to a Laundromat far from home. You'll watch rows of gleaming machines spin, but cycles of another sort won't touch your mind. They're communicated through blood: your own. You tell me what you've seen. You imply the in-betweens, and leave searing red ellipses at the end.You think your friends won't understand. Yeah, they just won't understand. And if you think that, well, then, yeah. We won't. We won't.
Tamar Berk pairs trenchant autobiographical lyrics with brittle guitars for songs that will win over fans of early Liz Phair. Bandcamp New & Notable May 8, 2022
Providence, Rhode Island artist El Valerie delivers nine tracks of pure, blissful bedroom pop with an electronic twist. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 14, 2022