You should go to Fluff Fest.

Chatting with Adrian Leben.

Title FightFloral Green

2012

1. "Numb, But I Still Feel It"

2. "Leaf"

3. "Like a Ritual"

4. "Secret Society"

5. "Head in the Ceiling Fan"

6. "Make You Cry"

7. "Sympathy"

8. "Frown"

9. "Calloused"

10. "Lefty"

11. "In-Between"

Pianos Become The TeethKeep You

2014

1. “Ripple Water Shine”

2. ”April”

3. “Lesions”

4. ”Old Jaw”

5. “Repine”

6. ”Late Lives”

7. “Enamor Me”

8. ”Traces”

9. “The Queen”

10. ”Say Nothing”

Pianos Become The TeethThe Lack Long After

2011

1. “I'll Be Damned”

2. ”Good Times”

3. “Shared Bodies”

4. ”Such Confidence”

5. “Liquid Courage”

6. ”Spine”

7. “Sunsetting”

8. ”I'll Get By”

FrameworksSmall Victories

2013

1. “Ida”

2. ”Sewn”

3. “Model Homes”

4. ”Old Chokes”

Ruined FamiliesBlank Language

2013

1. “Only Need Is Real”

2. ”To New Parents”

3. “208”

4. ”Easy Livin'”

5. “Human Fence”

6. ”Nature's Worst”

7. “Definition In Paradox”

8. ”Books As Weapons”

9. “Pedestal”

On 31/1/15 I got the chance to see one of my all-time favourite bands. Pianos

Become The Teeth are a 5 piece Baltimore rock band. You could argue that

Pianos Become The Teeth (or PBTT) are a concept band. All 3 of their LPs

revolve around the Frontman’s (Kyle Durfey) struggle and acceptance of the

death of his father that suffered from Multiple Sclerosis. There is a sense

of progression through Kyle’s emotions through their discography, with their

first LP “Old Pride” focusing mostly on the effects of the sickness on his

family and the relationship between him and his father. At this stage the

sound of the band was not fully developed, sometimes reminding the listener a

little too clear of their influences, but the emphasis was mostly on the

brutally honest lyrics that has made PBTT stand out from the crowd. Their

second, harsher sounding, LP “The Lack Long After”, we find the sublime agony

and despair after Kyle’s father passed away. This album features some of the

saddest lyrics Ive ever seen on any album. The pain is addressed directly

with heavy usage of words such as pain, agony, sick etc. The album’s cover is

a representation of the bed that Kyle’s father died in. The Album ends with

the ironically titled “Ill Get By”. Their third LP “Keep You” we find a

calmer sounding PTTB with the screaming being replaced by clean vocals and

more melodic guitars. Here Kyle is revisiting memories he spent with his

father, and even asks him questions, he knows are going to be left unan-

swered.

To put it simply. I fucking love this band.

The concert kicked off with “Ripple Water Shine” and carried on with almost

all of their 3rd release “Keep You” LP, with some of their old songs in

between (Hiding, Ill Get By, Ill Be Damned). Kyle presence was ethereal and

all of the members seemed to enjoy the show as much as the day before in a

different city. Now, At this stage I was reminded why I love going to these

shows. It’s so hard to find genres that are humble and honest these days. Let

alone the shows themselves are being masked with dancing bodies, giant moving

robots or shit like that. We have musicians turned to gods. With 100 lights

focusing on them, and two megascreens for you to experience his experience

through the experience of watching a show through a 4inch screen.

Shows like this are a ritual, a pit of deep soul cleansing, a primitive

dance washing away the stress and misery. We stop celebrating individuality

and become anonymous ragdolls full of energy. We jump, we fall, we hold, we

hug. It is a baptism through sweat and tears. It is a safe haven, where

honesty is a headlight and we deers. I could be going on for 4 pages full of

metaphors, and examples on how to describe the feeling of a show like this.

But the bitter through is that you have to go to one to know.

A RiTUal.

Some Natures Catch No Plagues

Saetia

[I]

Smiled that kind of icy blue smile of a noonday

Reckoning, the tied together two of tell-tale pictures

I've sketched in sand castle plots and plans. similar

Starting points, both for sin and shooting blanks. but

It's always the unseen sharp pang; the awkward rhythm

Of the dance like a tick-tock clock in that heart of

Hearts repeating, "there is no happy here, there is no

Happy here..." devil may care touches trickled down

Spine, thigh, and breast may never truly illuminate

The finer art of heartwork.

[II]

I was turning over with the sheets, and facing the

Arched back thinking of how my eyes, half-opened,

Caught her arm moving from side to side, but never to

Me. it's all connected by blank words to tell empty

Promises of clumsy miscommunication. so we say what we

Will, to see what we may, to find a Biblical knowing

Enfolded within the next few hours. it's too bad, too

Tragic... I spent myself choking on the motions

Leading up to said misfortune.