1. |
How Do Happy
01:52
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How do happy?
I wanna write the kind of songs that make the queer kids
Recognise themselves when they look in their parents’ mirror
I wanna write the kind of songs that you could cry to
When you’re overwhelmed in the supermarket
Would that be a purpose?
Would that be enough?
In the pocket of big sad
What would it mean for us to feel OK?
Sword hangs above us as every ocean boils
Alone in the gloam
But what if we kissed?
Haha just kidding
…Unless?
How do happy?
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2. |
JD Sports
03:46
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Dust burns my bloodshot eyes
They run as he starts to cry
Goon squads with glowing minds
He killed her in the street
Mourning lost futures we’ll never get to see
Momentary beauty between the wounds
Are we all broken or are we just doomed?
Is there a difference?
I think there is
Photos of me in drag, smiling
Death cults say it has to be
This way in a lake of fire
I don’t wanna be a jerk, but the world is ending;
Can you please talk about something beyond your ex-girlfriend?
I only want the best for you and I know you need to hurt
But in time the heart will heal, the blade scrapes the throat
King of shame, queen of whatever
Nostrum monarch, sleepwalking at desire’s altar
I hold your hand, you touch my face
The body disappears
So, so briefly
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3. |
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A style, a taste, an aesthetic, forget it!
An empath, a healer, a glow, nah
You said I must’ve hit my head
I didn’t feel anything, my nose was bleeding
A function, a product, a design, a desire
On object, a healer, forget it!
An empath, a lover a revealer, a desire
A glow, redemption, nah
So I got some tissue and I cleaned it up, that’s all – this story doesn’t go anywhere, I just had a nosebleed at a friend’s house, that’s it you know. I’m kind of sick of this self-obsessed white guy indie-emo thing where this kind of mundane shit you pretend’s got any symbolism, or greater important to other people’s lives, rather than just some fucking tedious self-involved nothing. Anyway, I guess I should play the rest of the bridge or whatever.
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4. |
Drunk In The Universe
02:17
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Now that I’ve had time to think
Burning thoughts seem so peculiar
Preparing for migration years
Space opens up, cautiously clear:
I don’t want to die anymore
And sometimes that terrifies me
Lying half-awake in an unmade bed of the cosmos
Mud and dirt in your hair
In sickly room, confused
Look to you for explanation
Shameful guidance in midst
Of pitiful convalescence, but you disagree:
You don’t mind, “This is needed,”
“The world can wait, learn just what you are”
A mess but not one that moves with the ominous certainty of plants
Roots unnoticed erupt from dirt, soil devoured in ecstatic reverie
Bursting out of a bloody chamber, you are still so ashamed of yourself
But after a terrifying fallow year, you just want to spend more time with your friends
And I would never mind, this is what you need
The world can wait, I’m proud of who you are
Falling gently drunk onto your best friend’s bed
The universe always wants whatever you want
I love it when you tell me all about the things you like
I care if you care
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5. |
Everything Just Sprawls
03:12
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With an intelligence, like networks of mushrooms
I am learning how to breathe deeply
Yoga With Adrienne, the everything just sprawls
As always, I don’t know what to say
Strange armour, a petal rosary
I wish I knew how to cry
Phil Elverum sings and David Berman’s dead
What relief is found in ritual fires?
Bodies of water wind: a vulgar gesture like
When you say that it might be OK
Strange armour, a petal rosary
A blissful kingdom, all things forgotten
Some days it’s hard but some days it’s just a painting
I wish I knew how to cry
Run and run, gold in the eye
Blue on the lip, at piece for a while
We say our goodnights, I start to cycle home
Get hit by a car and break my teeth
But beauty is a wound or just, there’s a kind of charm
In carving out a person from their youth
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6. |
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No dicks, no twats, only innies or outties
No boys, no girls, only thems that yearn for death
Tell me I’m worthless!
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7. |
Violence And Stupidity
06:10
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Maybe if I just try hard enough, nothing bad will ever happen again
I do not want to think, therefore I do not want to am
Space is an imposition; I am just a new market ready to be plundered
Time is a punishment, a flat circle we ride forever
Cos the weather says it’s gonna be grey
I don’t know what I want, I don’t know what we’re allowed
Searching for a break in the sky
Or even just some rain, any sign that things might change
With violence and stupidity, sometimes in my dreams you hurt me
I guess I just want a figurehead for things too big to see
What use are parallel hells when our sentences never collide?
At the dawn of everything, did you know the word for world is forest?
Maybe nothing good will ever happen again
But that’s not so crushing anymore
Patience with the garden
Our seeds will grow in time
A winter is not an ending
All will bloom again
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8. |
All Those Feathers
03:20
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9. |
In My Garden
01:39
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In my garden I read books about planned economies
In my garden I read books and think about personal space
I lie down on the grass and watch the pendulum swing
In my garden I am taken by old brutality
In my garden I am transfixed by decrepit weaponry
A little bit of violence still stains my skin
A broken razor blade, always asking “is path warm?”
But despite all this I know
Someday we’ll be alright
With care and gentle consideration
We’ll feel safe to call this home
In my garden I read books and wonder how you’ll cut your hair
In my garden I read books and think about personal space
I lie down on the grass and watch the pendulum swing
I lie down on the grass and boys, boys keep swinging
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10. |
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Spring has sprung on the hospital concourse
Brown lines on my hand, an unread message
Force numb fingers to click the link
Cute little lamb just makes me feel needy
In endless Year of the Jest, there are structures you can’t change
But there’s always agency, power in knowing when to leave, when to stay
Half dead, hopeless, I’m ready, I want you
Burning minds, I’m ready, this time, I hope so
No thoughts, no wants
It’s cool
No self, just love
It’s cool, it’s really cool
Summer sun burns the remains of empire
Blank looks, paper faces, staring at phantom limb
“If we didn’t know you, we’d be terrified”
What can I do? It’s only me
To be completely alone for a spell
Cast upon sleepless architecture
Sudden flash, success! By myself in the woods
I move as if unseen, drone flies overhead
End of century sale
They call it a cycle
So it just repeats
But I see a stranger smile
In evening air, there is a shift
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11. |
Skejbyparken 2, St.
01:03
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All the strange trees that rot in her mind
She’s throwing up all of the time
Is she going to be OK?
I hate strangers looking at me
Sometimes I wanna be a she
Would that be OK?
You kept tearing out my hair, I don’t know how much was planned
Crying at work, holding my boss’s hand
I know that I was complicit, I don’t know how much I wanted
You said you hoped I’d die, I still think about it some of the time
Is she gonna be OK?
You know she’s been so ill
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12. |
Talking To Plants
19:00
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Talking to plants I am stable
For the first time in years there’s no possession in my head
Outside a birdhouse, waiting for 3am
Hysteria to come but until then I just enjoy the quiet
Talking to plants I am fearful
There’s nothing they won’t take, they even commodified recovery
Were you hoping I could be more than just friends?
Were you hoping we wouldn’t need so much time alone? [bad luck!]
In gentle orchard, unravelling in soil
Gauze covered heart, bursting through ribcage
The sun begins to set, you start to breathe
Feeling exists outside the body
And I have no dream job, I do not dream of labour
I dream of hiding in the tall grass, waiting for the thresher to come
And in grey pool: I’m the best! The body reforms again and again
Staring at the soil, miles to go
Staring at the soil, miles to go
Another way!
[Summer’s bit]
Focus on love!
Staring at the soil, miles to go
With nothing but a bag of cans
And a crippling sense of shame
But I don’t look in mirrors any more
Full of tired smiles we buried the moon
In an unmarked box at the bottom of your garden
I still wear your old jacket you gave me most days
Men always scream at me in the street, but I don’t mind
Feeling gentle and glad to be alive
I am scared but glad to be alive
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13. |
Stop To Be
00:38
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I wanna hold your hand, and never breathe again
Splayed out across the infinite, or maybe let’s just kiss
Away from our disgusting bodies, away from the world below
None of this means anything, but look how far I’ve come
Cos you make me forget myself
You make me stop to be
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Mumbles Manchester, UK
inhalercore, baroque bunk, labourwave, mess
jacob (they/them)
tristan
(he/him)
oli (he him)
and you if you want, get in touch
good luck have fun do yr best
... more
Mumbles recommends:
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by Tape Runs Out
Our besties new ep!! I've heard a million different versions of it and it still upsets me how dang good it is!! How dare they be this slick!!
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Jethro's band!! They fucking rip!! The nicest people in the world, a major inspiration both musically and for involvement in The Scene At Large!!
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My droney solo stuff!! I hate it!!
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by The Caretaker
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Actually astounding and emotionally moving, creating a community that I have been proudly a part of for 2 years
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This Is Not The End
by Spielbergs
The Norwegian band deliver hard-edged and melodic 90s indie rock on their first full-length release.
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