I was born here in Central New Jersey,
In a hospital in Middlesex County,
Mom wrote for the paper, I'm the son of a banker,
We sought refuge in the winter of 2015,
The year that Manhattan blew.
Found shelter in Somerset County,
Our neighbors moved west to Kentucky,
Six feet of metal shielded us from the missiles,
Our kitty cat wasn't so lucky.
When I came home, you were no more. (x4)
We looked for old Jersey City,
Found nothing but ruins and packs of stray dogs,
So we set out south for Union County,
And we made a camp along Route 22,
In the town of Mountainside.
We made ourselves a new city,
And my daddy croaked from dysentery,
Mom and I mourned, and we hoist up the body,
And burnt it at sea on the Staten Island ferry.
The neighbors made deals with the Devil,
They hired some bandits to pillage our town,
They killed both my sister and mother,
All because I told them things I shouldn't have.
When my turn came, it was too late. (x4)
So I returned my key to the city,
And I sold the deed to my home,
I was told some big secrets that I never meant to keep,
It was a beautiful day for the Lord. (x3)
In Charlie's words, this record is like travelling "all around the world (and the Mid-west) in just 36 minutes!" He's not kidding. I can't identify half the instruments he used, but they sound great. Kenny Hoffman
I often consult Ryan about my own recordings. Listen to his most recent EP to find out why. The arrangements! The humungous synths! The layers! The songwriting! I couldn't do any of it. Great stuff. Kenny Hoffman
The Australian folk-pop singer tackles deconstruction, her Christian childhood, and sexuality on her infectious sophomore album. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 14, 2023