You’re dressed like you’re from LA, and I can’t fucking stand it. You’re dressed like you’re from LA, and I can’t fucking take it anymore. Understand that there’s a water that you swam in, understand that it never goes away. Learn to die in the town that you were born in, learn to make a monument to something, anything. But you’re dressed like you’re from LA, and I can’t fucking take it. You’re dressed like you’re from LA, and I no longer call you my friend. Who’s the one who will get to mark your record? Who’s the one who will get to mark your name? Will you pretend you’re the one to make things different? Will you admit that some things never change? Oh, it’s all good. It’s all fine. It’s like it should be. All that time. All those days. The longest one of the year comes this way. Holding tight, carefully keeping your section, developing a cult, a language and a hearth. Will you celebrate each new change of direction? Or redirect your hands into the loamy earth? Suddenly, it seems to be fine either way, I’ll comfortably lie here someday.
The enigmatic Frank Ene's solo record lives in a magical world where Serge Gainsbourg fronts Yellow Magic Orchestra. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 17, 2022