BST is the third single off ‘Expressions of Interest’, the debut long player by Melbourne/Naarm post-punk band screensaver. The third single from the highly anticipated debut album 'Expressions of interest' out on Heavy Machinery (AU) and Upset the Rhythm (UK). 'BST' is a blend of krautrock infused electronics and new wave aesthetics. Full of swirling bass synths and pounding motorik drums, lead singer Krystal Maynard explores notions of stolen opinions and baseless facts, as we all struggle for relevance in an overcrowded collective headspace.

Recorded by Julian Cue and Christopher Stephenson and mastered by David Stepford.

Buy/Sell/Trade

Passerby

Outlier

Donzii - Rightway Highway

Cameo

Real Estate

Hold My Hand

Here I am again,
Here I am sitting in the waiting room
Waiting for an appointment
That I had booked six months ago
I’m feeling very low
Yes, I was shitting bricks
At the prospect of existence without you
And so I gave it one more go

But the story didn’t stick and something didn’t click
Some allergies you tolerate and some habits, you just have to kick


I saw you on your back
Amongst the peanut shells
That were scattered on the floor of the big top
Right next to the overwhelming sense
Of impending doom, but no one even asked
Or mentioned anything to me about the
Elephant in the room when suddenly it clicked
Some allergies you tolerate and some habits, you just have to…

You gotta bite the bullet, you gotta get it fixed
You gotta get it seen to (so see to it)
That the story sticks

You always said that you’d both met and fell in love at the circus
And that’s why you loved animals so much
So much so that you’d bought a big dog
With little ears and called it ‘dumbo’
Which was a joke that got less and less funny every time
Obviously you brought the dog along that night…
When you showed up otherwise alone, to my dinner party,
Having already rang ahead, to ensure that all of my dishes
Had been prepared in a completely nut free environment,
Now quipping that it was for the sake of your ‘imaginary’ husband,
Because several years on from the wedding
That none of us were invited to
We still hadn’t met him, even though you always said he was coming,
Before suddenly he couldn’t make it
Because he travelled a lot with work, but mainly
Because he didn’t really exist,
You broke down in tears in my kitchen,
certain he was seeing someone else.
How reckless we’d all been to tolerate your fabricated reality
But until then I didn’t have the guts
To put an end to the ever maddening scenes
So instead, with a solemn nod and totemic silence,
I walked over to the cupboard
where I kept the snacks,
took a pinch of dry roast dust from the loose pegged bag
Sprinkled an inch into the upturned palms of your trembling hands
and said
'If you just rub some of this
Round the rim of his can then no one will know,
but we’ll all understand’
It takes real guts to fake being nuts
And it takes real nuts, to break fake guts

You gotta bite the bullet, gotta get it fixed
Get it seen to (so see to it)
Because stories that don't stick
Mean someones bound to twig
If your alibis cooperate then they will be
Fed to all the pigs

Peanuts

Pre-order options for Dark Days/ Peanuts 7" here : https://smarturl.it/yadarkdays

The truth was sold
That's where the trail goes cold
My shoulders shudder at the thought 
Of puffing my chest out as I walk home alone 
Under the arches, there’s this bloke 
With car boot full of stolen phones, knock off cologne and mink carcasses

Near mint condition from Selfridges mate  
I see arsonists with business rates etched on the back of empty match boxes
Police officers getting their truncheons polished off in the bushes
Wondering what all the fuss is about And what I’m looking at

But If looks could kill,  
My vacant gaze wouldn’t even pierce the skin
I’m not lazy, ambition is just something I have no interest in
At least when I meet my maker, I’ll embrace my mistakes
As I descend to the bowels of hell with a shit eating grin on my face

Dark days
It’s a never ending cycle of abuse
Dark days
I have the blues and I can’t shake them loose

I was skeptic due to how the media had depicted ya
Though getting to know you better
We clicked and so we stuck together
Turning the corner of the burning cenotaph 
Those coppers clocked us 
Stopped us and shook us up and down 
With no grounds to and no due process
They started discussing 
whether to let us off for doing nothing 
Or maybe pop us just for ‘looking like’
We might be hiding something
But then the Radio buzzed in, 
‘they caught carboot man with the lot’
Thank fuck I bought you enough time
Not to get shot.

dark days
It’s a never ending cycle of abuse
I had the blues I can’t shake them loose

My best ideas are borrowed, but they’re never half baked
They’re hard to swallow, Hey! Life’s an acquired taste
And if you wanna climb the ladder of success in this world
Take my advice and reinvent the reel completely, believe me

It’s London

Dark Days

Welcome your future. Where's My Utopia? out now

Peanuts

Yard Act