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The Offer's Dead, It's Fiction

Published Friday, May 26, 2006 by Laura | E-mail this post

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The Essex Green-Snakes in the Grass

Skipping stones. Green grass figures flickering back and forth, bouncing in cheerful unison. Tamborines, jingles, wishful thinking. Mysterious signs and warnings. Punch, lift, punch, lift, the skipping rope line of melody. Enchanting rituals, fairies and creatures leaping about in general pleasantness and slight confusion...

So this has to be the most un-Friday like Friday in a really long time. And you know what we do here on those messy, odd days? We post wonderful, wonderful indie pop and dance around a bit. It clears things up by a lot, really.

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