1. |
History of the Night
03:23
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2. |
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Limbs adrift on rusted swings
Morning waits for our landing
Jesting in our patchwork tongue
Weaving autumn lore to come
Those years we shared a shadow
Nights bound to a single echo
Stored all of our Novembers
In basements and vacant diners
A trail of midnight talks
Past secret monuments
In towns preserved in amber
Snared by days half-remembered
A caffeinated night drive
On an inky stretch of turnpike
Palms hit the roof in concert
Drowning out our weary mantras
Safe in this weightless state
From all my future mistakes
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3. |
Heavy Knees
04:21
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4. |
Late Fiction
03:40
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I need to mislay history
To hold the sea within my veins
For nights measured in distortions
And lines that veil the weight of morning
Until the sea drains through my palms
And envelops the fiction I led on
I need my father’s drink
To calm my mother’s nerves
Quell these shaky knees
Let weather guide my words
I make my order neat
To halt my cowardly whims
And the click lets me retreat
Into a stranger's skin
But the quiet always finds me
In a 3 AM staredown
When I realize I’m seeing me
But hoping for someone else
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5. |
Hiding
04:08
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An indoor voice, a roaring head
Days cradled in grass beds
Sharing secrets with the weeds
Safe from grownups questioning
Hiding all afternoon
Hiding in empty rooms
Shroud in tapestries
Seen by only me
I’m hiding so I can be
A shaken spine, a sanguine guise
A nervous laugh to hide behind
When silence weight rests on me
With words caught in reverie
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6. |
Shy in Mind
04:12
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Rapt by the laughter across the hall
A span that feels miles long
But asking is not innate
When you hesitate to take up space
But you won’t find your city if you hide
They didn’t have the shy in mind
When they built these skylines
To the crowd of unlocked eyes
I’m just the wind brushing by
Took the train to nowhere just to get outside
Thought of calling friends I left behind
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7. |
Your Window
04:27
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8. |
Birds of Dawn
04:51
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Mother wit begins to slip
As anhedonia sets in
When side effects from these tonics
Eclipse the shivers they deaden
Hiding birthmarks
Behind cue cards
An arms-length from my words
While eyes glaze under
The birds of dawn are singing taunts
While I shrink on curbs of sidewalks
Friends restore my lost hours
To lull my morning nerves
Their patience is my chaperone
In the city’s undertow
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9. |
Get Home
05:19
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Slow Riser Chicago, Illinois
Slow Riser is a Chicago-based dark indie-pop project comprised of two longtime musical collaborators, Ian Young and Claire Watkins (Scout Ripley, Morning Arms).
Contact: slowrisermusic@gmail.com
Slow Riser recommends:
Ian, Claire, and Connor play in this band as well!
go to album
Ian and Claire used to play in this band!
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