i love your sound so much guys! keep it up!!!!!

really cool vibe here.  Nicely done with the instrumentation and vocals.

@jaydaanderson: we'll be rotating the songs that you can download soon!

amazing composition. incredible production, would expect nothing less from mr. loh. great work! 

GREAT track! Really, really well done. Definitely following :)

Love this song!!!!!!   Hope you don't mind, I embedded it on Dante's Alt Rock Inferno.

https://spritzer420.bandcamp.com/  
new album! available on vinyl at that link above!
Kyle Olson - Drums
Ryan Weiner - gutiar ripping
Brian Betancourt - Bass riffs
Paul Hogan - melty key boards
Matt Meade - vocals / guitar / bar tab

Made good / recorded by / mixed by : Sam Owens
Mastered by Josh Bonati

Melt

King Cyst - Rubbing Soul

Fuck the world, am i right ?

Kyle Olson: Drums
Brian Betancourt: Bass
Ryan Weiner: Guitar
Paul Hogan: Keys
Matthew Meade:  Vocals / Guitar 

Engineered & Mixed by:  Sam Owens
Mastered By: Josh Bonati 

Photo By: Akiva Zamcheck 
Photo of:  Steph and Joel hammered in the flower beds after a wedding

FUk W0rld

Innerbloom comes from our 2nd album titled, Bloom. 
Worldwide release of Bloom on Jan 22. 
Pre-order the album to download Innerbloom today: https://sweatitout.lnk.to/bloom
Artwork by James Hunt and Jack Vanzet.

Innerbloom

Written by Sean McVerry

Co-Produced by Elite and Sean McVerry

Mixed by Hanan Rubinstein

Hourglass Switchboard 1- 1/22

Kerosene

Hey, haven't written anything new in a while, so here's somethin. Hope ya like it, download it for free.. Danznznznz

Computer Magic - Lonely Like We Are

Nausea in Paradise is Plastic Picnic's debut single.

Recorded:  Room 17 Studios / Brooklyn, NY
                   Brent Nettles: Vocal Engineering
Engineer, Mixing, Producing: Ted Young / Brooklyn, NY
Mastered:  Jessica Thompson / Coast Mastering / Berkeley, CA
Artwork:  Emily Seguin
Song written by Plastic Picnic all rights reserved. 

SHOWS:

AUGUST 20th @ BABY's ALL RIGHT / Brooklyn, NY
SEPTEMBER 16TH @ Sofar Sounds

INSTAGRAM: instagram.com/plasticpicnic
TWITTER: twitter.com/plasticpicnc
FACEBOOK: facebook.com/plasticpicnic

LYRICS:

I should of known.
It's the reason that you’re living alone.
Concentrated on how they feel--
about you through a glass eye wrapped in steel.

It’s your foley, like a fake sound
added to your film to make you feel more profound.
It’s your body on a fallen night—occupied with the same blind view of life.	

That simple little feeling of a sterile kind of love       
Your eyes kept shut until the glare becomes the sun. 
                                                                                      
You should of known,
but the same sand's under your skin now.
Grain to grain as they watch you go---
sink into a place that you won't know.

That simple little feeling of a sterile kind of love
Your eyes kept shut til' the glare becomes the sun.
                                                                                      
And it keeps you warm
As you fall into another lie,
that keeps you wrong,
Nausea in Paradise.

The Simple little pleasures that will keep you far from light.  	
They're crawling up your back
So you shut it down,
Like the mill on the hill you're silent now.
No timber left to burn,
so you blend in with surroundings now.
You're looking back.

It keeps you warm 
As you fall into another lie,
That keeps you wrong,
Nausea in Paradise.


Nausea in Paradise

One step, one breath, eyes close, door opens...

Natalie Mack - Vocals, Uke
Gavin Price - Guitar, Vocals
John Gasper - Bass, Keys

Written by Major Magics
Produced by Ariel Loh at Stone Studio

Strange House

American 

Inside my house we had forgotten now
Inside my house we had forgotten how
To live in the country with three white stones
Surrounding a flag of branches and bones
Of mirrors of contracts and signed armored clad
Of the ways we play circus to hide what we had

They won’t tell me what I am to be an American
I’m here but my hearts at sea, oh they won’t speak for me

And someone spoke too soon they got caught again
And the kids they lost their breath in the revolution
They settled for houses and for small kids
To tell them the stories of when they were young
The warriors they thought they’d become
Now hide in the surface like the roots from the sun

They won’t tell me what I am to be an American
I’m here but my hearts at sea, oh they won’t speak for me

I will stay up late and dig my own trench
I’ll ask all the questions they never present
And it’s sick and its vain and it’s hard to explain
To question the role or the play of the game
Not for your founding father or for the new born threat
Not for your radical breach that you tend to forget
Not for your good mother or the weight of her debt
Not for your children at sea, but your own way to

Tell what you are to be an American
I can’t live by your words and remain the person which I came
They wont tell me what I am to be an American
I’m here but I’m loosing my cool, no I won’t wait for you.

Buy on iTunes

American

Cell Phone

General inquiries: stonecoldfoxcontact@gmail.com

American

STONE COLD FOX

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