“After the teases, the singles, the late night PR pushes, the new album frm Fritch has arrived… “
“Once again, not so much a review, or I’d smack of the taste of my trumpet. But this is news of the new double A-side – the music of Rats on the Run…”
“Out on Other Voices Records and all streaming services, with love from Russia, UK and Berlin, this is ‘We Lose Our Cool’. The music of Rats on the Run…”
The songbook, the wordbook, the lyrics.
Black and ivory vinyl, ready to take home and own. The music of Rats On The Run – Out now on Other Voices Records.
My name is Dimitry Fedotov Vitienko, forgive me the spelling if I got those words wrong, I found out only my name a few hours back…
Mamma Fay waves off her green gypsy dress,
Pulls the next cigarette to her humming bird lips,
Picks through the cards and the beads in her bag,
Fingertips through her voodoo and prayers…
Mamma Fay walks to the water
Lovers, hold on to your loves
Fathers, hold on to your daughters
Mother’s, keep hold of the ones kept indoors
Typewriters clack with their meat cleaver keys,
Stamping their feet in red letters,
White ribbon scriptures hang cracks to the walls,
And I cant catch a break of a word.
Fragments hang backs to the rafters,
Sheets pass their last owner’s best incantations
Up into my skin with precision.
Every daytime we get closer passes fine / It’s in darkness were it tears the tear inside / Each twenty-four hours closer that we get / I sleep less and I re-measure my regrets…
If a Maybe’s all the will or won’ts
And Sometime’s as good as any
Or it’s not
If Perhaps is all the promise
That you’re after
Maybe Someplace, hurting hurts
But not a lot.