The muted applause of rain
Sleeves wrapped like licorice on the back seat of a train
Splintered driftwood half moons on my tongue
And other things
The backs of leaves
Should have warned us from
Like laying down in piles
And laughing all along
Jackets sewn like an American Quilt
Jackets sewn like an American Quilt
In a smile the patience of sea salt
smoothing the shards of a bottle
Reminding us that we’re here
Reminding us that we never left
Reminding us that we’re on our way home
We made sand from a shaker
Previously lent to the beach by us
We were palm brooms finally learning to stomach their salt
That’s when she said there are so many things I would thrown in the ocean when I was younger but
Underneath couch cushions seems a less obvious good bye
I agreed and continued to build her an ash tray in the sand
The muted applause of rain
Sleeves wrapped like licorice on the back seat of a train
supported by 34 fans who also own “American Quilts”
The best word I've heard to describe Maps & Atlases is bouncy. Their wildly technical instrumentals weave seamlessly into Dave Davison's warm, folky recollections and really bring their music to life. Ryan McDaniel
supported by 26 fans who also own “American Quilts”
The more obnoxious math can be, the better. Watching the opening song played live for the first time I literally spat out, "Oh, come on." Pretension without arrogance, this album gives many of its performances not out of ostentation, but out of sincere interest and expression. amwhoam
Michelle Stodart’s folk music captures hope in melancholy, addressing the transformational aspects of the most challenging times. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 3, 2023