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lyrics
Ancient police
They’re taking your older brother back
They’re decking the stack
Are you going where the good ones win
Waving your freak-out flag
Are you waiting for radar and leaves
They’re always the ones I count on least
They ripped up your jeans
Are you breaking down a final court
Cooling your skin by force
Are you noting the garden I seized
I took out the lamb that stole your hat
I crippled the bat
I was moving with electric rings
Trading each bite for stings
I was counting on angles and grease
To give me the signal to release
The sycamore’s keys
Are you climbing up a redwood wall
Daring that smoke to fall
Are you kicking with ancient police
They’re taking your older brother back
They’re decking the stack
Are you going where the good ones win
Waving your freak-out flag
Are you facing the season that seemed
To be seven years of only lean
Well, this is your theme
For you champions on a far-off slope
Know that this jaw’s not broke
There’s a dad I saw all alone
All alone
Calling Mt. Moriah on the telephone
All alone
All alone
Calling Mt. Moriah on the telephone
Why, ancient police, there’s no hero left for your knives
This is undoubtedly my single favorite album of all time. It feels like such a perfect culmination of all the themes and ideas Fleet Foxes has been working with since 2008. It answers many of the questions found on both Helplessness Blues and Crack-Up, and represents an incredible maturation and growth in Robin Pecknold's perspective. Their other albums are certainly masterpieces, but this, in my opinion, is their magnum opus. I doubt it will be recognized as such in its time. isaiah_stuart
A hushed and low-lit EP from this Melbourne musician, where dreamlike melodies drift across a bed of tender guitar. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 19, 2023