I can’t remember. Each time it slips right through my fingers. The eyes and faces of my brothers that never made it back home to their mothers. All I remember of 1943 December is Sullivan and I behind the line. We gathered the flock to hold a mass with the father and the smoke led the way back to death and flames, my disbelief in what laid before me. Bombed out with no warning, no hope, no hands to hold, no hands to pray for me. And I remember the prayers my mother’s mother taught her. And though I am no believer, I would be dead with my fellow men if not for the preacher. “If I should die before I wake, I pray the lord for my soul to take.” No hands to fold, no hands to pray.
Before this album I'd only ever really listened to Lament and Dead Horse X; I've never been -that- familiar with touche amore but this blasted them from being a band I enjoyed on occasion to an absolute favorite, one I feel connected with personally, intimately. I feel understood which is a rare experience. sleepy_foxie
The Philadelphia group sharpen their hooks and internal dyanmics for a fun and non-dorky take on power pop anyone can get behind. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 26, 2024
Musically this feels more experimental for La Dispute reminding me of their Here, Hear releases. Very atmospheric and easy to lose your self in. Perfect for the next time you’re contemplating your existence. (Also found out the guitarist builds his own pedals and used them on this record; neato!) Mikey