1. |
Eastside Spectres
04:47
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I'll ditch my band, float over land I love
Through sea, to be with you
I'll stay in hovels, labourers grovel
And scarlet girls, they talk so blue
I charm the knives but not the hands
A forever creep, postcoding gloom
I want a "yes", might get a "no"
Reverbed review, a Potts Point cue
But there's no two ways darlin'
Dredging your eyes for the germ
Of the way that we were in
Disco heights, sweaty palms
Laden tears, nothing years
Here I am and here you're not
You asked me to, if you forgot
Polestar shapes: me and you
Talkback musk, watch check bruise
And so if tonight I kick and scream
I'll blame it on "Dear Sydney"
But there's no two ways darlin'
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2. |
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Fear and trade mags upon my knees
Up ten on VA 523
Grids of lights, sent up to floor me
Agrarian darkness revolving
(But I have changed)
In tinsel dangled chemistry
Here's L-shaped sheet wrapped destiny
(And I am scared)
Those business cards sell make believe
(Of what I'll do)
That hand-to-hand duopoly
(Because I have changed)
Causation in Times Electric
By cemetery, that A.M. trick
(And then you will say)
With foot-to-foot, under new light and you
“Let's not break up”
Great Eastern slaps are awaiting for me
Wanton turns one finds in plural seas
From lip-to lip in a silent Camry
Devotion spawned in more familiar sheets
I'll be good until that one day that it's me
Pleading, "Let's not break up".
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3. |
Bored Autocratz
03:33
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A map upon your brow, a cross against my name
Bored Autocratz, with young drama to give
A soap-in-sock hour, blue lights upon some veins
An owner/builder, not a slave to narrative
In White Midnight, with jackals on the beat
A Como kid deprives your liberty
A phone call lost in a BPM marquee
Holding court in a cubicle
Shuffling ambered throes, blazing arteries
Fear of missing out; don't want it actually
On a floor of eyes, there's nothing to see
Sed said you were here, but you had to leave
One wants to hear their youth, touch and move and see
By the feet of that payphone talkin' breed
Too straight for dancing shoes, the best that there will be
Is Gidget if you will spend your weekend lust on me
When the morning is getting cold (Spend your lust on me)
When you come in with 1-2 blows (Spend your lust on me)
When the talkin' is growing old (Spend your lust on me)
When the news is hard to hold
Awake to the club shrug: stasis at 20
Pocket a lobster and spend it back to Ruby Street
Past a murder scene (I call you)
Yes/no in white jeans (You call me)
Blood and onion swill (I call you),
That shaking half-speed drill
Jewellery stores for dogs and beds where bimbo's bake
Muscle shops tweak at the activated teat
That idling Goethe hum, soft crush on real estate
Dwindling Nonna's sweep the porch on fading streets
In White Midnight, large "L" liberal deceit
A Highgate kid has deprived my liberty
A phone call lost in Dance dressed as Indie
Still holding court in a cubicle
Boxers promises, winding taxi strings
D&M corners, hand-to-head offerings
Blue and red and white, paginates the night
Another GBH at the OBH
The boys, they want her skin and if they can't get in
It's each others skin, that they will break in
Before that mortal dent, when you snort up all our rent
Gidget won't you bring me your weekend lust?
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4. |
Harmony Fields
07:57
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Cut it, let it run; hang-ups never heal
Highways usher death, by Harmony Fields
I'm driving to meet you, by Harmony Fields
Keep the motor running, Kitty
I promise I won't leave you here
Spectres hunt the past, coasting salvage yield
White grass, first and last, gravel seated zeal
I'm driving to meet you, by Harmony Fields
A full stop cast in matte, golden lowbell chills
Highways usher death, by Harmony Fields
I'm driving to meet you, by Harmony Fields
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5. |
Lake Grace
04:38
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Amongst ashen fleets and we are slicing blue metal
Hands at 10 and 2, kayfabe under the right pedal
Windsor knotted by the white, that's sometimes blue
Through a million leaves, rolling kyrie of much yearning
Over maize futures, not soon to be returning
By the lake, where you came
By the lake, where you lay
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6. |
565
04:44
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Moustache alive, at 565
"No, not tonight. But thanks for the invite!"
In Fred-on-Fred glory, lady can't ignore me
Until she's bringing it on
Through bridge and tunnel, then neon funnels
On magic corners, consigned to memory
Once you're a stranger at your own party
Gidget, she dinks that perpetuum moment cast
An organism, hermetic to breaking fast
"Why did you tell that story?”
“It's the wrong time of the morning!!"
When you're bringing it on
"I've got no Carl Cox", "Got no Hanoi Rocks"
I hardly know you, yet you're talking at me
While all the kids are all falling down, on Beaufort Street
“And mate your stars, they are not my stars”
“And mate your scars, they are not my scars”
Yet you're talking at me, under moonlight and then sun
On Beaufort Street, birthing “never was”
A John Sands frieze: first blush skims golden ponds
The path of least resistance until it's gone
Lisa, go to bed. Steven, go to bed
Houston, go to bed. Maciej, go to bed
Grab your things and then go long
'Coz we're passing, ligature dolts, actinic masts
After-after-after party and they're chasin', good luck with that
Draped on curbs, ass at 90 degrees
Decanted handbags, extant portals
Licked bag lips on denimed hips
When you come to on Wednesday
Hey, we'll be on our way.
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7. |
Dianetics Jerk
05:52
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(Darling, you and me)
It's everywhere, on everything
In Tudor moss, geometric cling
Hand-lead hallways, where I've lost my name
To rotoscoped, crescive dismay
Through soft-Left weaves, I've lived, but cannot place
Upright to grim truss on your face
Before all that I've loved does slip away
To death and it's singular gaze
I've gotta let you know that you are a star to me
So Kubrick white, 4/4 pretend
As Googie beeps Morse out the end
Although nothing will ever be the same
It's ours to make loss into gain
Through deeds and feats and demonstrated grace
When warmth glissades from face to face
I've gotta let you know that you are a star to me
When does breathing resume?
When does lilt ghost trajectory?
Empty seats in hearts and tables, filled by progeny?
Ebbing circuity, I long to be in the city
Dada runs up aching Murray; Bronx fade dazzling
Dianetics Jerk trimming marks, pallid pitch hurdling
Molly, if we get through this, I'll give you all of me
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8. |
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From the fronds of Africa
They took two for their zoo
And now there's three more chimpanzees
For me, to wrestle over lichens
That are suctioned to the high rise
That used to house the upward
Now only rats and mice
And eels, circling Jacuzzi's
It's the hills, where I chill
In neon scarp with my double-storeyed Tabby
Ride a wave along the terrace
Hang ten with a pink porpoise
Deny what it's to be (That's when you came)
Bodyboarding on a tortoise
With all that came before us
Dropped-in waves and hearts, Cindy
To rest under the cat's tail with you
Back in salt-stained, low TPI
Oscillation lanes give rise to cinema for tired eyes
Like these, which are aching to forget when then comes
Pelicans from Double Sunrise
Scooping up loose limbs and then taking to regal flight
Through gates, of tunicates a'throbbing
Ghosting hills, where I chill
In neon scarp, so chromatophoric, baby
And I'm sure you miss your Mama
And I'm sure you miss your Papa
And I sure do miss the Dockers (That's when love came)
But we've only got each other, due to that reign of error
Paddling out to Devil's Terror
To rest under the cat's tail with you
Oh, the breeze when I sleep
And you sweep, your giant tail above me
Cindy, meet Geoffrey, my double-storeyed tabby
And it's the hills, where I chill
When everywhere ocean glare
Puts a line through me
And I never thought that I could be alone with you
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9. |
Of Morose Limousines
04:49
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Hugo, I think that you'll know of what I speak
It is futility, asleep next to me
It's concrete I bleed, that skin-on-skin beat
Shaded by the ruins of Stalinist goons
Aroused when six deep
Made shills in brick hills, all filling the brief
Under crimson caged heat Which holds nothing for me
There in staid interviews, by panel of two
Of Morose Limousines
Swimming in grey suits, new flesh on the teak
Sounders do as they please
In their quantitative ease
Under the gnashing of palms, over bitumened calm
Those Morose Limousines
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6s & 7s Perth, Australia
6s & 7s are an indie-rock band based in Perth, Australia, centred around the songs of the enigmatic Josh Fontaine and
currently featuring Stu Loasby, Pete Guazzelli and Aidan Gordon.
Fontaine formed 6s & 7s in 2008, releasing the critically acclaimed LP, Choose The Sentinel Blooze, in 2010.
In April 2023, they will release a new single, 565, with more releases set to follow.
... more
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