DESCRIPTION:
The first song to be taken from LC!'s forthcoming 6th album, Sick Scenes, released 24th February 2017.

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Los Campesinos! are on tour through the United Kingdom and North America in 2017.
Tickets: www.loscampesinos.com/live

20/2 - SEATTLE, WA, The Neptune Theatre
21/2 - VANCOUVER, BC - The Imperial (19+)
22/2 - PORTLAND, OR - Doug Fir Lounge (21+)
23/2 - LOS ANGELES, CA - The Teragram Ballroom
24/2 - SAN FRANCISCO, CA - Great American Music Hall
27/2 - DENVER, CO - The Bluebird Theater
1/3 - MINNEAPOLIS, MN - Triple Rock Social Club (18+)
2/3 - CHICAGO, IL - Metro (18+)
3/3 - DETROIT, MI - El Club
4/3 - CLEVELAND HEIGHTS, OH - Grog Shop
5/3 - TORONTO, ON - Velvet Underground
6/3 - PITTSBURGH, PA - Rex Theater
8/3 - PHILADELPHIA, PA - Theatre of Living Arts
9/3 - WASHINGTON, DC - 9:30 Club
10/3 - BROOKLYN, NY - Warsaw
11/3 - BOSTON, MA - Paradise Rock Club

27/4 - LIVERPOOL, Arts Centre (14+)
28/4 - GLASGOW, Stereo (14+)
29/4 - SHEFFIELD, Queens Social Club (14+)
30/4 - NEWCASTLE, The Cluny (14+)
1/5 - LONDON, KOKO (14+)
5/5 - BRIGHTON, The Haunt (14+)
6/5 - NORWICH, Arts Centre (14+)
7/5- BIRMINGHAM, Hare & Hounds (14+)

Gareth: “The song’s about battling with bad mental health, trying to comfort and reason with yourself over something you can’t control. Specifically it’s about how my main coping mechanism was to keep myself constantly drunk in the blistering heat of Amarante while being failed by a largely terrible international football tournament.”

Tom: ‘In March 2016 I went to Melbourne to produce a record for a band called Ceres. We went super deep on the details and textures for their album, but it was the songs themselves that left me with a hunger to do something with a similar energy. I’d had the chorus sitting around for years, but it was only when I had the idea to use it as a major-key payoff to a minor verse that it made sense, and played over a loop of a distorted bowed saw, it all came together really quickly.”

I found a home away from home as I broke up in Amarante
In the Campo do Carvalhal centre circle every day
Erratic kamikaze, I copiloted the swift
Dreamt I’m anchoring that midfield, like the anchor in my midriff

I drifted through a month alone as I broke up in Amarante
Nursed a two beer buzz for four whole weeks because it’s the only way to feel sane
The newspaper front on the counter top emblazoned spot kick miss
I couldn’t even hum in your mother tongue, just a thumbs down and raspberry kiss

(It seems unfair) To be a rotten horn of plenty
(It seems unfair) To be cadaver for a curse
(It seems unfair) To be an overflow for empty
(It seems unfair) To try your best but feel the worst

I threw an empty bottle from way up, it thudded into the maw
Truth be told I spent the afternoon, and I threw fifteen more
I’m woken by a honking horn, hungover, spread-eagle
Strength between the clicking crickets’ knees enough to crush my skull

You really can’t complain, it’s just a holiday
You fill a wall chart out, thirty-one days away