1. |
Soft Approach
03:04
|
|||
|
Welcome to the new Celtic Twilight.
Welcome home.
Welcome back to who you cannot run from.
Welcome back to yourself.
A February morning, walking towards the train, crossing Knickerbocker at pace.
I must have looked like a shoplifter...
With an entire history and identity tucked under my arm.
Enough to cloak myself in and insist it was my skin all along.
Down the stairs, through the turnstile, waiting.
Draught down the platform, frozen to the bone.
I must have forgotten as much as I ever could have in that moment...
Putting my head down, clenching with my entire body,
Thinking, "Only 5 more years".
Doing at 25 what I'd done at 15.
When I left, he left with me.
He used to be dismantled just like me,
But now he's perfect.
Not from a great height, but a great distance.
Rose-tinted memories, poison nostalgia for our hardships,
And the ways we come to miss them.
Our memories of hardship, and the ways we come to miss them.
|
||||
2. |
When I Retire
03:13
|
|||
|
Prefer to start my days late
That way there's less time to put down
I know it's getting useless
To debate your place in chance and circumstance
As talent in flawed men
Often bides its' time
To become wasted potential
I'm moving dates and months around
To help me better realise
Everything I've failed to see
As balance is a terrible thing to lose
Much too good too early
Far too much too soon
Kept me out of depth with my perception
Gave me a taste for untenable narratives
Which led me to find myself
Moving dates and weeks around
In the hope I'll realise
The habits that define me don't have to destroy me
Balance remains an elusive thing to gain.
|
||||
3. |
Gloss
05:15
|
|||
|
Snow fell slow upon the ground
The first winter in the Northeast
The first time I truly felt myself
Broken apart and open
A few blocks and a few lies from "Making It"
My first big fake
And learning about
A wealth of new sensations
Distracted and welcoming
Learning some new habits
How to tell a lie about yourself
And what you want
You're going to pay.
But you're going to afford it all.
She's on her throne, the queen of Alaska
I'm only here to have some distraction
To forget the name and the place that I've come from
And dreaming of all the new ways to impress you:
I pay more rent than you and I have nicer skin
And a higher ceiling and a higher girlfriend
And a higher income and a much higher
Rate of anxiety all just to get by
You will not defy me, nor will you deny me
Some people can just afford to tell nicer lies to themselves
And it lets them think
That this is a catalyst for their nostalgia
You've hijacked this aesthetic perfectly
But my love is infinite, my love will never end.
This is a catalyst for nostalgia.
You've hijacked this aesthetic perfectly.
My love is: infinite/will never end.
|
||||
4. |
Yellowrose
04:22
|
|||
|
Slept restlessly, rose sheepishly
Muted the memory,
Who gives a fuck about fantasy?
There's a havoc we wreak when we're lost
There's a chaos around us when we're lonely
The way you think when you try to remember
Can't be trusted or relied upon
When all that could have been done
Would never be of help to any one of us
Did you have to change your mind so suddenly?
Did I have to be so blind to what's in front of me?
Think of words I want to say
But only write them to myself
Fire escape, 4th of July
So hungry for a dream, I swallowed a lie.
The way you think when you try to remember
Can't be trusted or relied upon
When all that could have been done
Would never be of help to any one of us
Like how your voice rang clear to announce
The way you felt, that I could never quite pronounce.
There's no need for you to feign kindness
There's no cause for your concern
I'm just sitting here
Bracing for the impact
Of words I'm not prepared to hear
I hope you like fireworks because I brought the whole display.
|
||||
5. |
The Tennis Coach
04:33
|
|||
|
The key was broken
The lock still turned
We recollected and tried to walk
A mile in one anothers' shoes
The price we paid for what we sought
Attempts at humour to water down
How far we went in the wrong direction
Its dusking fast
I turn my mind towards this task
Something of but bigger than myself
I'm watching angles and trying to read
Where everything might fit
I turn my head and toward me
Walks all I'd ever want some day
The other path from which I chose
So I could have some time astray
It's just projection
I know I'm waking soon
So I make you thank me
For bringing the mother out in you
It's not cruel, just a reminder
That I'm not stuck here forever
And what I hope
To aim towards
I wake alone and far away
And years adrift
From meeting you
When you'll throw
A rope down from paradise
And pull me through
|
||||
6. |
Chester, CT.
03:09
|
|||
|
Eyes open for detail
Scan the walls and faces for later
I cannot see, I cannot stand
I cannot read, the notes in your margins
Eyes open, what to put where
Never special, never rare
I ran to here, I run from me
I live by my opaque transparencies
I cannot see, I cannot stand
I cannot read, the notes in your margins
What's not there, what's not right
Absorbed in every wasted night
I run toward hunger
I run from comfort
Irving Avenue, 3am...
My walls are my walls, and they're none of your business.
|
||||
7. |
St. Albans, WV.
03:36
|
|||
|
_ords fai_
|
||||
8. |
How to Be A Fake
03:06
|
|||
|
And when you grow up, nobody knows you
Because you never will let them see you
Perfectly rehearsed, you know what to say
With the right setup, you keep them all away
And when you reach goals and still feel empty
You learn to go back, to invisibility
The years that fucked you up, will also be
The years that make you, if they don't kill you
Memory selects childhood vacations
Our jokes and our games, how tall you seemed then
If I could go back, I'd see it different now
Instead I'll strive to meet you someday
Up on the ceiling of this sound
Or on the shoulders of the giants
I never feared once for falling
Only going it alone without you
When roles are reversed
And it comes my time
Can I be present?
Compassionate? Aware?
And when you're finally happy
You'll have some perspective
And you can tell them what they really mean to you
I love when we talk, but I've got no time to chat.
|
||||
9. |
How to Be Afraid
06:58
|
|||
|
Living happily and hidden
Attempts at gaining perspective
After you've been burned by the bright lights
And nauseated by the height of your hopes
How does a narcissist speak about their problems
Without falling into a self-indulgence?
With music for the modern man
You're fooling no-one
With your edifice of stock composure
No matter where you are
There you'll always be
A lesson you keep on repeating
Revelling in your greatest tragedy
And burning up in unrealistic anticipations
And sickened by unrealised expectations
So far you ran.
But could not hide.
Your shame.
In yourself.
Terrified of being exposed
You proved the architect of your undoing.
It is what it is, as it is.
And that's all it ever has to be.
It's all one.
It's all the one.
It hurts how it hurts, like it hurts.
Because of you and the way you let it penetrate your skin.
Catharcissist committing again
To behave differently, but vowing never to change
Endpapers blank, nothing left
But to admit that I see
That I am lonely,
But I am free.
WELCOME TO THE BEST OF WHAT'S LEFT.
|
||||
Sad Adults Galway, Ireland
Jackson Cage - Guitar/Vox
B.D Lorde - Bass/Acoustic
Guitar
David Fooster Wallace - Drums/Engineer/Mix
"How to Be Afraid" Mixed and Mastered by Christopher Vandeviver at Brass Palace, Rochester, NY.
... more
If you like Sad Adults, you may also like:
Under The Surface
by Nameless Ghost
The wrenching songs on the latest from Nameless Ghost tackle loss and grief amidst toothy indie rock.
go to album
An easy-to-love combination of emo and jangle pop, the first full album from Spirit Night in eight years feels bathed in a golden glow.
go to album
Safe Under Water
by Oliver Divone
A concept record about hiding under the ocean told with dreamy synths, buried vocals, and soft programmed drums.
go to album
Searching, anthemic post-rock centered around turbulent crescendos and mournful vocal melodies, with tasteful, proggy touches.
go to album
This may be Nate Kinsella's "dad record," but the array of experimental sounds and soulful songs on offer evidence a new creative peak.
go to album
The Gainesville emo band work through grief and mental illness with honest, empathetic hooks and dynamic guitars.
go to album
We Can Live Here Forever
by Barely Civil
Sweetly sincere Midwestern indie rock that balances an intimate approach with moments of big emotion.
go to album
