BBC Radio 6 Music With Lauren Laverne
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Little Dragon - Ritual Union

“Chelsea Hotel” is a hauntingly poetic song that walks the line between dream and memory. Set in the legendary hotel, the narrator checks into Room 22 and is swept into a world of echoes—ghosts of lost songs, smoky laughter, and fading footsteps. With lyrical nods to Cohen and Janis, the song pays tribute to the creative spirits who once walked those halls. But at its heart, it’s a personal reflection on the thin veil between past and present, presence and absence. A timeless ballad for anyone who’s ever chased meaning through the corridors of art, longing, and city nights.

“Chelsea Hotel” ist ein poetischer Song voller Sehnsucht und Atmosphäre – eine Reise zwischen Traum und Erinnerung. Im legendären Hotel bezieht der Erzähler Zimmer 22 und begegnet dort den Geistern der Vergangenheit: verlorene Lieder, rauchige Lacher, verblassende Schritte. Mit Anspielungen auf Cohen und Janis wird den großen Künstlern der Vergangenheit ein stiller Gruß gesendet. Doch im Kern ist es ein ganz persönliches Lied über das, was bleibt, wenn alles andere verschwindet – ein zeitloses Stück über Kunst, Verlust und das Flimmern nächtlicher Großstadtträume.

Chelsea Hotel

Checked in with a suitcase, the key felt like a clue
Hallways breathing stories the paint couldn’t subdue
I heard a whisper rising through the thin blue wall
It sounded like a hymn, it sounded like a call

Downstairs in the lobby, the night was wide awake
Shadows drinking whiskey, talking art and fate
Janis laughed like thunder somewhere on the floor
I followed her echo, but never found a door

In Room 22, the past came flooding in
Every song I’d ever lost echoing again
I wanted to believe it, I wanted to be true
But in Room 22, I was just passing through

A poet’s breath of ashes curled around my bed
Dreams were stitched together by the words they left unsaid
I saw Cohen in the mirror, a song without refrain
He winked and disappeared into the falling rain

In Room 22, the walls began to sing
Every ghost I used to chase was whispering within
I wanted to believe it, I wanted to be true
But in Room 22, I was just passing through

The ceiling kept its secrets, the walls refused to speak
I followed fading footsteps, the ground beneath me weak

In Room 22, the night broke open wide
Every dream I thought had died was burning back to life
I wanted to believe it, I wanted to be true
But in Room 22, I was just passing through

Checked out with the sunrise, no one at the desk
The key lay like a relic, the city held its breath
And I walked into Manhattan, but something wasn’t true
Maybe I’m still sleeping in Room 22


The Mating Game

Bitter:Sweet