The sun won't gaze on our navels anymore
Given up on marching, what was it for?
A fashy front's coming through
It's time to wake up to clear the air, blow it out, grip the wheels in our minds
Turn 'em hard, swing 'em round
Look, the cliff! It's the cliff!
Remember how our friction made fire
And how we made strangers understand?
We've got to back the facts so we can clear the air, blow it out, grip the wheels in our minds
Turn 'em hard, swing 'em round
Look, the cliff! It's the cliff!
Come with me, we'll walk the edge, it's a wire
Shout ourselves down at the church of the liar
Or we can rouse ourselves again to clear the air, blow it out, grip the wheels in our minds
Turn 'em hard, swing 'em round
Look, the cliff! It's the cliff!
Looking down where the buffalo flew
For a moment, that'll be me and you
credits
from The Cliff,
released October 25, 2019
Words and music by Stanton Hall
Stanton Hall - voice, bass guitar, organs
D. Ricardo - voice, guitars, percussion, synth vibraphone
Max Curry - drums
Daniel Coble - voice
Do you like melodies and intelligent lyrics? Do you appreciate well crafted songs played amazingly well? Then check out this gem. You can't go wrong with a Bye Bye Blackbirds album. They could make bigger t-shirts though. ;-) John Ashfield
Having a predisposition to power pop, plenty of these songs clicked on first listen for me - relating hard to karaoke first dates (“In Love with Everyone”), ethernet-based romances in Oceania (“Jas from Australia” - Nick from NZ here!) and annoyance with Portland’s sterile, monolithic hipster-activist culture: “so many different kinds of white people” nails it, really (“Lucky Devils”). Mo’s tunes are real earworms, but you’ll welcome their tunnels - also, he has great hair. erinmack