Private Choirs

Ghostly downtempo art-pop listens for the village voice inside a million private soundtracks. Vinyl crackle, distant piano, and soft sub-bass let a late-night ache swell toward the simple invitation to take one earbud out. LYRICS: We took the drum from the center of the square And tucked it in a bedroom with fluorescent air Put the choir in a wire and the wire in a wall Now everybody's listening and nobody's there at all We used to lean into the same unruly sound Now every little kingdom wears its own crown A million private soundtracks, a billion sealed eyes A thousand tiny heavens where the common body dies We call it freedom We call it choice But something happened to the village voice We take music A social miracle And make it solitary Personal, spherical A pulse made for bodies Now trapped between the ears A feast made for the firelight Now rationed out for years And these machines Built to carry love Built to bridge the distance Built to rise above Turn into little fortresses Polished, bright, and sleek The more that we can message The less we seem to speak The headphones fit like modern halos do A private liturgy for me and you Except there is no you here, just the ghost of being known A holy little algorithm humming through the bone The phone was sold as contact, communion, reach But it taught the tongue a new and thinner speech We send the shape of feeling, not the blood and breath and heat A hundred perfect symbols where a trembling touch should meet We got connected Thread by thread Then built cathedrals for the living dead We take music A social miracle And make it solitary Personal, spherical A pulse made for bodies Now trapped between the ears A feast made for the firelight Now rationed out for years And these machines Built to carry love Built to bridge the distance Built to rise above Turn into little fortresses Polished, bright, and sleek The more that we can message The less we seem to speak I miss the room I miss the bleed The off-key uncle The drunken need The shared mistake The shouted line The way a chorus used to turn a crowd divine I miss the glance That said sing louder I miss the floor The air, the power When song was not consumed But entered like a weather And left us less alone Because we bore it all together We take music A social flame And cool it into product File and brand and name Then wonder why the silence Gets heavier each year When every lonely person Has a concert in their ear And these machines Could still redeem Could still become a meeting Could still become a dream If we remembered what they were for Before the walls grew thick A way to bring us nearer Not just make the signal quick So take one earbud out Come stand inside the sound There is still a human rhythm Buried underneath the ground Roots Roamer Records