Apologies to the Queen Mary

Fancy Claps

White Reaper

Cool

We've had a bit of a break punctuated by moving house and our 6th birthday at Knee Deep Festival but today we're back with the debut single from Holiday Ghosts, punchy paranoia fueled garage pop.

Having dug up this treasure from within sadly otherwise lost tape sessions at Troubadour in Falmouth, Stacpoole (The Black Tambourines) and fellow Kernow stars Katja Rackin, Ben Woods (Lost Dawn and Charlie Murphy (The Red Cords) bring the melodic erudition of their other projects together into a melting pot of loose pop and timeless malaise.

Under the haze of Stacpoole's relatable charm lie dynamic harmonies and vivacious rhythms, spaghetti hooks under the floorboards moving a knee or two as the Holiday Ghosts frontman waves off the anxiety of a night under the influence and life itself and just exists. The pin comes with a download code and backing card and is available from our shop now: http://artishardrecords.limitedrun.com/products/580793?preview=true

The Pin Pal Club

Buy 1" pin single

Holiday Ghosts - Paranoia

NEW PETITE LEAGUE SONG "PULLING TEETH" OUT NEXT THURSDAY (3/9) 

Just a little acoustic version of the original song I recorded for the No Hitter record! You can hear the original here:
https://petiteleague.bandcamp.com/track/down-that-road

Down That Road (live & acoustic)

Sweet '17 Singles

Come for Me

Death Lens ~ 1991

A little black, a little blue, a bit of sadness pulls me through
A bit of sun, a bit of shade and all our sweet songs fade away
A little time inside your head, it left me wishing I was dead
Your shotgun eyes will always leave me wanting more

She reminds of The Smiths indeed
I love her face to bits you’ll see
It might get awkward if at first you fail to swipe her off her feet
Her face was made for magazines, her lips are laced with something sweet
Imagine me and you, an empty room and tonnes of chemistry

A little blue, a little red, I’m rocket ships inside my head
Spent seven weeks there chasing that and now I’m back to being like:
You weren’t my type I’m just craving the ecstasy 
I’m not that kind when I run out of dopamine
How do they call when you miss being sad and just want to be alone

She reminds of The Smiths indeed
I love her face to bits you’ll see
It might get awkward if at first you fail to swipe her off her feet
Her face was made for magazines, her lips are laced with something sweet
Imagine me and you, an empty room and tonnes of chemistry

And it wasn’t to waste your time
And it wasn’t to waste your smile
I feel the pain, you know
distill your thoughts and drink alone and die

Drink Alone And Die

GET WELL

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