I Am the Landslide

All the troubles that I know, seem to me like little heavy stones,
And all I want to do,
Is slowly push and pull,
'Til they rock, 'til they rock, 'til they rock, 'til they roll.

Tired Pony. Oh my dear sweet beautiful heavenly Jesus. Oh my dear sweet golden Adonis carved by Eros for Zeus himself.

Beats the fuck out of OMG, that, but let us not get cocky.

So, Tired Pony. They're what happens when you put several utterly brilliant songwriters in one room (Gary Lightbody, Iain Archer, Peter "R.E.M" Buck for chrissake) and just let them create for the unyielding hell of it. But the end product is so far from unyielding hell it puts that phrase to shame and makes it all modest and guilty. The Place We Ran From is full to bursting with unexpected surprises, but it never loses its innocent simplicity, and never once does it outstay its welcome. It also sounds like an album, a functioning body of work, rather than a bunch of songs from a bored side-project.

In short, love, love, love, love, fucking love. Sure, let's make it fun- fucking and love.

To you all (:
S.xxx