My Unborn Children

"If lyric poetry is, as Czech novelist Milan Kundera recently wrote, 'the most exemplary incarnation of man dazzled by his own soul and the desire to make it heard,' surely the pop song is the highest incarnation of all-consuming love and its fundamental need to be shared." - Mark Hogan



Foolish is for real! It is My Unborn Children's first record, and you can find it at these Athens locations: Wuxtry, School Kids, and Daily Co-Op. You can buy it online (and stream the whole record!) from CD Baby by clicking here:

The best way to get it is straight from me (Talia). It costs ten dollars.



This is what Foolish looks like:



There is also a neat booklet stitched in that folds out to a screenprint:



The Flagpole says this:



Probably the most accurate thing one can say about Foolish is that it sounds like what it is: a self-released, home-recorded CD-R by a singer-accordionist. (The singer-accordionist in question here is Talia Bromstad, a member of local band the Ice Cream Socialists.) The vocals are up-front, largely untreated and shakily if winningly harmonized. The fakey-fakey drums are way back in the mix so their fakeness is largely unobjectionable, and there tends to be a lot of reverb. There are many cheap-sounding keyboards, and there is no bass. Nothing sounds polished, but nothing sounds really rough, either; just plain. It would sound good played at low volume in an older car after something small and pretty, like Electrolene. It would sound bad played loudly around a bunch of intense, bearded dudes who just finished listening to Deerhoof. Foolish seems to demand a certain restraint, but if you're relaxed and in the mood for little love songs, it's just right.



Even "Ramona," a song about drowning a baby, doesn't break the mood. It's not creepy in its juxtaposition of cheery music and grotesquerie, but a sincere expression of loss. The singer really is sad about the baby that she drowned, in the same manner that you'd reminisce about a lost love. That dislocation is so in character that it works as a wistful pop song, contextualizing its horrors as banal to the person expressing them. On a seemingly predictable album, it suggests that different ways of listening might be rewarded. --Michael Barthel, Flagpole Magazine



The First Thing



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some days I rise

like a painted pony

remember my cowgirl dreams

knots I swallowed untie

echo of quiet hooves

expanse of blue sky