Playing a unique blend of raw, soul flavoured surf, garage rockers Desert Fevers fuse old school reverb drenched jangle and lo-fi psych pop.
Produced by Jake Rutter, mastered by Callum Lloyd Williams.
This track features on our first EP 'Delusions'. you can find it here
https://desertfevers.bandcamp.com/

Desert Fevers

Shadow Of A Man

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- Raw Indie Psych Pop from the Welsh Coast -

Hailing from North Wales, Desert Fevers combine roaring indie pop with lo-fi psych grooves.
Gaining traction on the road, playing a collection of small heartfelt shows, Desert Fevers honed their sound and performance into a dynamically sharp live act. While a DIY home recording approach has lead to a dedicated online following.

The current lineup stands as,
Jake Rutter - Vocals/Guitar
Josh Roberts - Vocals/Guitar
Marcus Rutter - Bass
Sam Roberts - Drums
Joe Roberts - Guitar/Harmonica
Matthew Nash - Keys

Catalan amateur musician with lots of ideas.

5 year fathom watches watches,
stillborn every second second,
every biding breath it botches,
every burden bares it's beckon,

"time's the cup that drinks from you,
the carvened starvened quaffing challice,
press it to your lips anew,"
-Virginiana Hammemalis,

5 year fathom weighs the way,
in 1/16th of ever after,
kindle-clocks counting decay,
in oft regurgitated laughter,

"every thought's a treason plot,
a handle hewn in cares grown callous,
picks you up to smash you down,"
-Virginiana Hammemalis,

5 year fathom rode the road,
it's pressures poured into impostures,
each angle set to explode,
in seamy seams of dream imposters,

"drown your druthers cupid-careful,
find no fears and make no malice,
still you simper for a stareful,"
-Virginiana Hammemalis,

5 year fathom rolls the roles,
the marrow-masks that try to wear him,
tumblings take of tithing  tolls,
their irredeemers
set to scare him,

"dampen drove the bridal bridle,
purity's your pleasure pallace,
phallacy's your idle idol,"
-Virginiana Hammemalis,

i bore to you a houndly frolic,
every rise and fall,
my backwords barkened by the rollick,
unheedy my call,

you gouged my grip, in scented slip,
for every phantom sniff,
and all that was, was lost because,
of wandering what if,

I bore to you a houndly frolic,
every fall and rise,
where winter whittled worry,
and unheedy went my cries,

your absence cast my echo,
in collide-a-scope collapse,
and all that is, was fleeting fizz,
for petulant perhaps,

so you tottered in a circle broken,
down on widdershins,
to engrave what must be left unspoken,
save by bitter grins,
upon the insides of my eyelids,
whence now even shorn and shuttered,
doth the vision of derision,
that the bitter grins have muttered,
cast it's kindling, sharp and spindling,
on the clenching of sightlesson,
so I'm sealing every feeling,
just to keep my keep from guessing,