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A split cassette with our Sonoran desert comrades, OHIOAN. Both EP's were recorded in the same time period, in the same studio, with some musicians in common, so it felt like these two pieces of music were related by blood and conception. So now they live together in a tape. Double-sided screen printed Stumptown Bradpak case with lyric sheet, and gold-on-black high-bias cassette. Comes with free download for each side. Only 200 copies made.
Includes unlimited streaming of Embers at the Foot of Dark Mountain
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
Benjamin Blake: Guitar, Vocals
Julia DeConcini: Vocals on "Trail of Tears"
Mike Barnett: Guitar
Samuel Christopher: Guitar and Keyboard
Michael Huerta: Bass
Adan Martinez-Kee: Drums
Matthew Baquet: Drums
Ryne Warner: Single-note guitar solo
All songs written by Benjamin Blake and arranged by Young Hunter.
Abandon those around you, do not be afraid of the sun as it rises at the end of all days.
Descend to the place where nothing is known, ascend to where the landscape is shown.
We arise in the morning with dreams stuck in our heads.
These are the songs the living sing to the dead.
Welcome back to the void, welcome to nothing,
We've always loved you here.
We are so glad that your remember where your home is,
where your roots drink deep.
This is your mirror, a piece of black paper.
This is your home now, a city swallowed by sea.
So welcome back to the void, welcome to nothing,
your home is always here.
The shrines of the earth paved by the altars of man.
The cities we built buried in sand.
Our lives are minute, a word lost in the wind,
but the statements we make will stand till the end.
Track Name: Trail of Tears
Father, where are your children? You've been gone a thousand years.
Mother, why are you weeping? I walk your trail of tears.
Nothing left to eat here, nothing to drink now but our tears.
Dawn comes like a hunter, we hide our souls for a thousand years.
Track Name: Dreamer
I am not a dreamer, I have torn living things up by their roots.
I am not a dreamer at all.
I am not a dreamer as I watch the fading of my youth.
This is not a dream, I know.
See the bones left where the spirit wakes up,
another life spent chasing paychecks,
a pair of ears deaf to the sound of a world dying.
And if the earth sees through our eyes,
then when we're gone, will the world be blind?
It doesn't matter, unless a million years is a long time.
When are you going to wake up?
Are you going to wake up when you die?