Read My Mind

Restons simples 
Laisse ton bolide
Baisse ton flingue 
Cesse ton faux lead 
Fais tomber le masque 
Sans t'es solide 
Zappe ces frasques 
Ton for est flasque 
Ouais j'te connais par cœur
Homie 
Faut pas que tu t'écartes 
On s'étais promis 
De rester dingues 
Sans faire de folies 
Arrête, mon athlète 
De courir à ta perte ...

HOMIE (Feat Issam Labbene et Samuel du Fontbaré)

was IT something I said 
that made you wall off like this
was it somethiNg i did
that made you step back in regret

tell me why i should stay here
you're talKIng yourself out of us 
MAking lies and faking love
oh, i just neeD you to lEt me know 
should i keep on wanting this 
or, should i just let it go

we used to wear each other like skin
now, we're oceans - oceans apart
i couldn't tell where i started and you'd end 
now, we're oceans - oceans apart

did i hold yoU too close
Suffocate what i wanted most
did yoU think leaving through 
rationing out what i didn't mean to you

tell me why i should stay here
you're talking yourself out of us
making lies and faking love 
oh, i just need you to let me know 
should i keep on wanting this
oh, should i just let it go

we used to wear each other like skin
now, we're oceans - oceans aPart
i couldn't tell where you started and i'd end 
now, we're oceans - oceans apart

don't let me go, don't let me go 
just hold me close, just hold me close

we used to wear each other like skin
now, we're oceans - oceans apart
i couldn't tell where you started and i'd end 
now, we're oceans - oceans apart

we used to wear each other like skin
now, we're oceans - oceans apart
i couldn't tell where you started and i'd end 
now, we're oceans - oceans apart


Ocean

Schubert -  Ständchen in D minor - Balázs Szoko - piano

The Easy Way b/w Animals

Animals

This is the first of a three song triptych written in a friend’s cabin upstate.  I took myself on an eight day self created residency with some gear, big speakers, my dog and a commission deadline.  I lost myself there, listened to so much music loud in the house, David Bowie felt like a visitor on the day of the big eclipse.  I listened to old country, and to soul music.  I started a playlist called “For now, Forever” which became a bible over the course of making the record.  I needed a sonic home to rest in when i’d gone too deeply into my own rooms of making.  I read in a camping hammock out by the pond in the woods each day.  I tried to meditate.  There was no such thing as silence.  I was in the company of gods — mortals who make things with their hands and bodies and voices, Immortals who know how to live and die in a harmony like breathing.  The woods spoke to me each night when the bugs turned out, giving over to their desires, just like they should.  I wrote.  I cleansed myself in baptism of song each day.  And each day the wildness I’ve learned to quell made its way up through my belly, into my chest, my throat pressed.  And each day I encountered a form of friendship with all those who had been artists before me, all reaching out to touch this thing we don’t name unless we call it god.  You heard the cry and you want to cry back.   The “friends” are artists and what they’ve made…  it’s just there for us.

Creep No Filtre

Fabian Finkels