I told her I cannot remember now,
The memory is lost.
There was a flash and a fog,
And voice calling out.
But sometimes so familiar
I can almost recognize.
Kneeling at the base of a tree.
Reaching back into the night.
This isn't right.
And sometimes when I close my eyes,
It flickers like a star,
A sudden splash of imagery,
When everything was young and free.
And sometimes so familiar
I can almost recognize.
Far away and long before
Reaching back into the night.
This isn't right.
And far away and long before
The fields were wrapped in wires,
Before the land was burned,
Cut and carved, scraped away,
Skin peeled off,
And fitted then with boundaries
And names and roads and interstates
An eye peers through a visage cracked and scarred.
It is bloodless; it is cold.
This isn't right.
A time before the history was replaced,
A time before the memory was stolen and erased,
A time before before the song began to fade,
Before the faces pressing hard against the bars
Became permanently changed.
I used to know a golden age.
Rosa Mae,
She said it all comes back around again in time.
With its gradually-unspooling grooves and danceable beats, the debut effort from Swedish psych band Hollow Ship entices with every listen. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 8, 2020
Extra-riffy guitar rock gets dosed on this psych-tinged release, straight out of Southern California’s still-kicking garage scene. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 30, 2016