It’s been exactly one month since the release of both emotional and thunderous second LP from Madrid based post hardcore act BONEFLOWER and it’s high time we give it a nod, take advantage of the quarantine and celebrate it properly, with one more thorough listen and some additional thoughts from the band. We asked them to share their thoughts about the concept, the importance of touring, and some thoughts on their local scene.
The whole record’s concept is about the incapability of feeling something meaningful and strong, the absence of love and its rejection when it arrives. Also feeling lost and misunderstood even surrounded by people who care about you. We often talk about these topics in our lyrics as they flow naturally and they fit with the music.
As a band touring is always the final goal for us and what we enjoy the most. It’s something that gets reflected in the music and how we feel playing it and composing. We’ve been working really hard on everything related to this album for the last year. Although we love to create and record music, we need to start enjoying everything fun that it may give us, specially touring and hopefully sharing it with many other people who may enjoy our music. Sadly, this coronavirus crisis came in and ruined all our plans, we’ll try to reschedule it for later this year.
Madrid screamo / post hardcore scene
The scene in Madrid is pretty active. There are a few collectives that set up awesome shows like Caleiah, the guys from the band Meeky or Bent Nail. And some cool local bands like Crossed, Altair, Monteperdido, Ordesa, Nogato, Meeky, Svdestada, Chloral, …
Other bands and artists worth a check
So far, we’re enjoying Demersal album “Less”, Chivàla Split with Suirami, Crossed new album “Barely Buried Love” (Desan, our bassist, plays guitar in that band), Slow Fire Pistol new song is amazing too, hope they release some new stuff soon and the Obroa-Skai/Ysidro split.
Recorded the album with Borja Pérez at Ultramarinos in Saint Feliú de Guíxols.It was mixed and mastered at Ultramarinos by Santi and Víctor García. Vinyl via Dog Knights. Casette via Zegema beach. CD via The braves records.
There is a treasure buried down under an island. You never tell where to find it cause the past makes your heart feel sad for moments you would have never had. But from time to time, you allow the hunt to start, knowing the wooden chest is covered in saltpeter and its iron is rustier than a horseshoe, fragile as thin glass.
Starting to read your insecurities and masked weaknesses as if it was a map, knowing the red cross is far, the journey through water will be worth the time passed. Lungs full of hope that the box is filled with pure gold but tired of the fact that the tide goes up and down,
making sure it’s not an easy quest to dig the shovel and realizing it will be fully hidden once again the morning after. People have limited patience.
And you know it better than anyone. So, after these last sunsets, if I find your treasure, don’t force me to throw it off board, for I’ve lost many things (but none of them thus far will ever feel so close to losing everything).
Hey, nothing feels the same. Without you, nothing feels the same.
“My son, this is where your father wants to eternally lie. If I die before you, throw his ashes all across this wonderful site and remember him as a child diving in its waters with a smile.”
Don’t let me do what you say. Wait until I’m drowning in grief. Blinded by your honest intentions no one ever meant like you did.
With words unspoken you’ve called the wind to show its worth. With words unspoken you’ve called the sun to brag about its warmth.
Turn the page and smell the pages (like you always do) that I’m writing with precious care, hoping your lips truly read a reason to stay.
At night awake, wonder if it’s something you’d let go. At night awake, do you fight for those who you’d never let go?
If the path I walk is beside you, I don’t care if there are highs and lows as long as you’re there and show me you care with time and affection. Time and affection.
The blushings again. You ask me in bed if I would be able of being part of someone some day. If able or willing, I don’t even know if I want the life I am living. Do you also hate being all alone as much as you miss being on your own? I’m afraid that you won’t be here one day but maybe I won’t be me one day.
I wanna be part of a love that’s real. So magic and sincere it would bring me close to tears. But tell me how, if I’m old enough to think but I’m young enough to dream. Tell me why every day that goes by and I try, this love looks more like a coffin to me.
One step closer to death, I’m terrified to meet someone that loves me one day. One step closer to death, show me how to be us and also me anyway.
It pains me to feel everything as debris, as if temporary. Novelty gets old, it’s hard to accept. The older I get, the clearer it gets: a life by your side is the reason I care.
Screaming at a starless black sky, praying for planes to crash.
Surrounded by uncertainty, like the abyss seducing me, awaking the desire of the fall.
It’s been so many fucking years that I’ve become numb to the indifference I project to the rest of them. Endless stares at my reflection on the shop’s windows, looking back at me like through a deformed lens. Swaying lines of light cast a shadow on the wet floor. The street becomes empty, maybe it always was.
Everything comes, everything ends.
We are golden when our old ours die. We are golden now.
We’re all searching meaning amidst this existential chaos, looking for a warm hug, a hard drug. Wanting to feel everything at once and nothing at all.
This calm peace is suffocating me, like drowning in oxygen.
Where the fuck did the pain go?
Did I shed it away, change from blue to grey?
I feel nothing,
Everything I feared before.
It’s not the past what haunts me or the future what I fear. It’s the present where I can’t live in. Prisoner of time and space.
She said “I saw the moon in flames and didn’t feel a thing”. She put her hands on her face and started to loosen her knots with tears of rage. “My mother wants to die. She says she’s in pain and hates her life, so that’d be killing two birds with one stone (or three, if you count me)”
I’d see her ghosts in the room every time she opened her mouth. “She started weak but when the cancer started to leak, she said she had ants beneath her skin. And I’m happy just because, but when I go back home I feel those ants hatching and making our house their own.”
You left me but your smile will always be with me. You left me, your kindness is still watching over me.
“When I sleep I picture Nemesis: my mother blows her head out with a fucking 12-gauge. I try to stop her but the ants are eating me alive. And I hope that one day we’ll be able to forgive, but until then, I’d rather hold hands by the bed. Much so, I’ve become both the lion and the lamb. If you want it so, mom, go. Just go. I’ll keep the burden and tell everybody well: the world will be a darker place for those who remain.”