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II

by Seafarers

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Lydia
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Lydia A stunning follow-up to Orlando. Feels like a real range of light and shade to me, with some really beautiful lyrics to accompany the gorgeous melodies. Thank you. Favorite track: A Disappearing Act.
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1.
Resentful of the rental store, Dismissed for stealing videos and Butterkist, You crossed the road, And called me from a pay-phone. Sixteen candles, five foot nine, Struck matches on the bins behind the cinema, I felt your eyelash, Brush across my cheekbones, Your lashes brushed my cheekbones. And the shadows swim Across our abdomens, As our bodies twist Behind the multiplex, And the stars turn black, A disappearing act. We watched as it went up in flames And gathered reels of burning tape. Just modern teenage parlour games, Revenge can leave a bitter taste, But petulance is charming, And I can be so charming. Complete the form in ballpoint pen, Your name, address, provide consent, "Did you come alone or bring a friend?" "He stopped replying to my texts." "They'll call you when they're ready." And the shadows swim Across our abdomens, As our bodies twist Behind the multiplex, And the stars turn black, A disappearing act.
2.
Iris is a boxer, With fists of broken teeth, And Oisin's driving taxis, But struggling with sleep, And the streetlights past the window, Graze the bruises on her face, He tries for conversation, But the words have been misplaced. And I've been telling fortunes, To sugarcoat your scars, For wounds are often shadows, Who stay up after dark. And I'm thinking I should tell you, But the room's a carousel, And we're spinning like a summer, Shattered knees upon the shells. My fingers trace the line, Between the gestures and the signs, Unravel and collide, But maybe it's alright, To be a good beginner. Beyond the amber dragons, The watchmen drink alone, Concerned about the troubles That they've failed to diagnose. And there's comfort in the kitchen, Playing games with blunted knives, But the blindfold's started slipping, And I'm opening my eyes. My fingers trace the line, Between the gestures and the signs, Unravel and collide, But maybe it's alright, To be a good beginner.
3.
Newlyweds 04:19
Halloween, And we’re all getting dressed up In face paints and fake blood And hanging like bats from the trees. Watch it burn, Freedom looks like a boy in a skirt. But they ended up chasing, Pushed him to the railings, And forced him to stare at the sun. Intertwine, My hands 'round your neck, It’s warm and it’s wet, And it drips to the floor from your eyes. Like the ghosts in the park, Who look like my friends, Newlyweds too in love, To check under the bed, And I want you to panic, 'Cause I've seen what's ahead. Straightened teeth, Perfect smiles stained with nicotine. And you dance with a girl, 'Cause she likes the same music, But you’re never quite sure what she needs. Like the ghosts in the park, Who look like my friends, Newlyweds too in love, To check under the bed, And I want you to panic, 'Cause I've seen what's ahead. Like the ghosts in the park, Who looked like my friends, Newlyweds too in love, To check under the bed, And I want you to panic, Oh, I want you to panic, I want you to panic, 'Cause they’re stirring again.
4.
Nathalie 04:15
Do I look different? I’ve used another soap. And it’s unfastened The pressure from the tap Is running cold. And it’s your birthday That’s fallen on the roof. I spilt your drink, Manipulated On the pile of coats and shoes. Thrashing dogs held in a cage, And arms stretched out on rollerblades. Slow motion picture memories, Have started eating Nathalie. So, now you like me It locks from the inside. A heavyweight escaped, And climbed down from The ladder in your tights. And from the chimneys, We shouted at the moon. It started swelling, You know that fractured buds Will never bloom. And I’ve known heroes, With bloodstains on their jeans. Perhaps pathetic, I’m addicted to the way You talk to me. Thrashing dogs held in a cage, And arms stretched out on rollerblades. These all-consuming memories, Have you heard from Nathalie? Thrashing dogs held in a cage, And arms stretched out on rollerblades. Slow motion picture memories, Have started eating Nathalie. Slow motion picture memories, Have you heard from Nathalie? These all-consuming memories, Have started eating Nathalie.
5.
We lay upon the floor, Resigned to silent company, The television murmurs through the wall. Across the yellow dawn, The particles are tumbling, We crumpled like a cavity, And drifted when the stitches came undone. And innocence collapses, And fools us all until we fall. Oh, it collapses, And fools us all. You told me that you'd thought, Of voyages to galaxies, A graduate in make-believe, It's not the monsters you've been running from. And as you dance alone, I wonder what you'd do to me, A familiar kind of jealousy, Sprayed across the fields a perfect frost. And innocence collapses, And fools us all until we fall. Oh, it collapses, And fools us all. I'm sure I heard your voice amidst Protests for the environment, But desperation surged for you to turn. Even though those days have paled away To insignificance, Desperation yearned for you to turn. Could we return?
6.
The Curators 04:25
Light remains, So much brighter when it fades, And unlike what they say, Nothing stays the same. I carved your name, Just beside the felt-tip flames, On my high school pencil case, When we slept among the stains, Retinol and razor blades, Convinced that I was going to die, The first time that I came. Eyes ablaze, With your arms around my waist, And I knew it from your face, That things were going to change. Wide awake, Feeling something close to hate, Scrolling through the private page, Where the kids you said were gay, Often go to masturbate. And how long can you tell yourself That this is just a phase? We are the curators, And the keepers of our lives. Watched a starling’s soft decline, Amidst the shepherd’s lucky sky, Like the emptiness you find, When the chemicals subside, And I’m confessing my desires, Misdemeanours, and my crimes. The voices on the radio Continue through the night.
7.
The anxious winds that weave and wind, Your jumper on the washing line, A hand me down from mother’s side, But the threads are drifting apart. On the pitches where we scraped our shins, They’ve built a new development, But model homes aren’t serious. Still the locals disapprove. The crimson parts that drip with shame In locker rooms. I won’t evade This ambient uncertainty, But you can’t pretend in the dark. Remember when I cut my neck, Erupting plumes on milky flesh, They billowed like your cousin’s dress, Through market stalls in June. And somewhere on the crowded page, I saw your dad’s obituary, But never found the cemetery, So I sat and drank in my car.
8.
Submarine 04:31
Over time, The photos left their frames behind, But I, Lay shipwrecked in your arms. Silver ash, Clinging to your lips were chapped. The bath, Began to overflow. Darting like fishes, The rain fell in ribbons, I lost my hands about your hair. In awnings we glistened, Come morning, I miss them, And it's all in colour, And it's all in colour, Awash with colour. Idol eyes, Ticket stubs, and poster boys, Destroyed, The blazes scorched the lawn. Submarine, Soaking in another dream You seem, More vivid than you are. And it's all in colour.
9.
Shame Likes to hide In the voices of children Who shout when they're shy. All that matters is you're giving it a try. Shapes Flicker by. A quiet confession Disturbing the light. But all that matters is you're giving it a try. Lay Down beside A tender regret We awaken entwined All that matters is you're giving it a try. Rain, Crashing coins, They smashed every window And seeped through the blinds. All that matters is you're giving it a try.
10.

about

The photograph on the front cover is one my mother took of me aged four, standing in front of the enormous rhododendron bush in my parent’s garden.

I don’t remember the photo being taken, or what I was feeling, but I suppose I was on the cusp of change, about to begin school, make new friends, gain new responsibilities, and fade away into adolescence. Now that I’m 30 I often look back at where I’ve come from and feel like I’ve lived so many different lives, in different places, with different relationships, urgencies, and needs. Perhaps when I write I’m trying to get back to these past lives, to inhabit the memory of the person I once was. I feel so far removed from the boy in the photo, it’s funny to think we’re the same person.

credits

released February 4, 2022

Lauren Kinsella – voice
Tom Taylor – piano, synthesiser (1, 3, 5)
Matthew Herd – electric organ (1, 5, 7, 8, 9), synthesiser (4), synth bass (2), handclaps (3), saxophone (9), voice (7, 9)
Arun Thavasothy – electric guitar (1, 3, 4, 7), acoustic guitar (2, 5, 8 ,9), voice (1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 9)
Tom McCredie – electric bass
Dave Hamblett – drums, percussion, voice (9)



Donald Grant – violin
Triona Milne – viola
Ben Cashell – cello

Kris Drever – electric guitar (3, 5)
Euan Burton – electric guitar (2, 7, 8), voice (9), handclaps (3)
Patrick Phillips – handclaps (3), voice (9)
Siobhan Miller – handclaps (3)

Euan Burton – producer
Patrick Phillips – engineer
Katie May - engineer
Ioan Hazell – assistant engineer

Mixing by Patrick Phillips at Real World Studios
Mastering by Patricia Sullivan at Bernie Grundman Mastering

Mat Martin – design
Chloe Rosser – image optimisation

Jana Herd – cover photo

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Seafarers London, UK

Seafarers are a London based group of musicians uniting some of the most prominent voices in contemporary folk and improvised music.

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