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Crooked Mouth

from Telegrams by Tariq

/
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about

I read Cormac McCarthy’s book The Road (and saw the movie) a few years ago which got me thinking about a post armageddon world. As much as I would never want to see earth destroyed by some catastrophe caused by human carelessness or folly, it’s also hard not to imagine or gawk at scenes of post armageddon destruction, even when they’re just special effects in movies—the statue of liberty up to her chin in ocean water? It makes for riveting fiction. It’s also entertaining to imagine what life would be like for humans if such a catastrophe occurred, to imagine ourselves foraging for food and shelter, thinking only of basic survival rather than why a lover didn’t text back this morning. Technology, or the failure of technology, plays a part in this lyric too—suddenly the radios pick up only static; computer passwords cease to work. I imagined two lovers when I started writing this song. They’re coming home after a night out. One of them stands at the sink and runs the tap over her finger to cool off the water before filling a glass, a seemingly mundane action, and then, in that precise moment, everything shifts. The air starts boiling, electricity races underground, melting wires. Communication is lost and the world plunges into chaos. In the end, everything is returned back to nature. Once she has us, she will chew us up with her sharp teeth and swallow us down. Then she’ll wait for the next inhabitants of earth to come along and try to screw her over again, and when they do, she’ll be ready.

lyrics

It’s last call for the moon, so we crawl towards the edges of the light to stand in your apartment and wait to fill our glasses at the sink. You run the water for a minute over your fingers pointing downwards at the drain and in that minute I’m afraid that you might disappear like shadows in light rays.

I think this radio is broken, can’t find a signal or a sound. Forgot the letters to the password, I guess I should have wrote it down. So, bring on the sharp teeth of the morning, let’s crawl inside its crooked mouth while the flames shoot down the wires to circuits shorting underground.

It’s last call for the moon, too soon to be returning to the place where your shadows meets the light rays in a perfect chiaroscuro in a frame.

credits

from Telegrams, track released March 29, 2019
Composers: Tariq Hussain

Performers: 
Tariq--vocals, guitar
Sam Davidson--keys/synths, woodwinds
Skye Brooks--drums
John Walsh—bass
Micajah Sturgess—french horn

Studio--Afterlife (Vancouver, BC)

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about

Tariq Vancouver, British Columbia

Tariq is a Juno nominated singer/songwriter & recording artist. He releases music as himself and w/ the critically acclaimed band, Brasstronaut.

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