Time's a pitcher
That is made of clay
To pour tomorrow
Into yesterday
Born of fire
But to break anyway.
It all leads to this hillside
Where the land is sore for eyes
This is what we waited for,
walked our days to find
Easy mind,
Easy mind.
Getting lost in iridescence
Flying in the pine
I've been living as a crescent
This whole world in disguise.
It all leads to this hillside
Where the land is sore for eyes
All that searching, all to find
On this harmonically rich LP, the Scottish singer-songwriter contrasts gorgeous soprano harmonies with strident folk-rock instrumentation. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 26, 2023
Incredible psych-rock with an undertone of grunge and a focus on tight songcraft gets a well-deserved vinyl pressing. Bandcamp New & Notable May 11, 2023