This song landed late last night like a down comforter stuffed with French goose feathers after a pretty loud and raw and late show with friends and anachronisms be damned, it was the closest I’ve ever gotten to feeling like an extra in Contempt or some pulpier New Wave affair.
At least I have this tape from Pigeons, recorded in the Lower East Side this past winter along with live tracks and some covers. You can order the c28 from The Curatorial Club here.
