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Mystic Hotline

by Latitude

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1.
Vertical highway, don’t you take me right away It’s not so easy when you say you’ve The right of way Vertical, vertical ride Permanent, terminal rites After your shelf life, don’t know if it’s Up or down Post-expiration, salvation or underground? Vertical, vertical ride Permanent, terminal rites On and on, the streets are empty Just these static goalposts creaking On the cul-de-sac is quiet Just unfinished dreams still sleeping On and on and on and on… Vertical highway, won’t you wait another day It’s not so pleasing when you say you’ve The right of way Vertical, vertical ride Permanent, terminal rites
2.
A motor pops Jumping out of my skin Wish I was inside The telephone blinks And the new news things Got nowhere to hide Spit in the wind Well you can sink or sin Turn your nickels into dimes It’s easy to read Anything in the leaves If it’ll sweeten your tea time You can’t break it anymore Your right to try You’re right to try Your right
3.
Thursday’s the new Sunday Cuz all I wanna do Is lay around with you Call me up honey This dirty old city It’ll grind us to the bone And all I seem to wanna do Is lay around Bad news at your doorstep It’ll seep into the seams If you don’t keep your head on Then you might start to believe it We can drown in the same drop Or keep on running like a stream But all I wanna do Is hang around The chorus dies by attrition (until) And every sound and opinion (recedes) And the noise it falls to oblivion (until) Until it’s just you and me Got gum on your shoes now But it don’t mean a thing I’ve got my neon sign on I’m on your mystic hotline Thursday’s the new Sunday And even Wednesday afternoon Cuz all I seem to wanna do Is lay around
4.
Remember the good times Living was so easy No typeset, proper penmanship Remember These locomotives got me down They desecrate our perfect towns When will we ever come up for air? The telephone’s a devil’s scheme To split our families by the seams When will we ever come up for air? Come on, you keep me racing on, running Let’s go, let’s go back The radio will rot your head It surely is a passing fad When will we ever come up for air?
5.
Rising 05:13
This spectral town Washed up on the shores again Low tide on the floodplain Treading holy water A trick of the light Swept into the copper rain You thought you had more today You thought you had more You can’t see through the blinds You can’t see through the spotlight You can’t see through the blinds It caught you up It caught you off guard Rising in the wind Your picture book has gone to grey Rising in the wind Pictures of you Caught up in the news wave Are traded and X-rayed Digging for someone to pay A trick of the trade We’re on to the next page No time for the mess we made We’ll show you the door You can’t see through the blinds You can’t see through the spotlight You can’t see through the blinds It caught you up It caught you off guard Rising in the wind Your picture book has gone to grey Well your lifeboat’s gone and sailed away Rising in the wind
6.
Tick Tock 04:40
Staring at the second hand Mister, mister, mister You got me on the run You got me on the run Counting every grain of sand Whisper, whisper, whispers You got me on the run You got me on the run Swapping spit for alibis Don’t you wish ya wish ya You got me on the run You got me on the run Aberration overdrive Check your sys- your systems You got me on the run You blew my cognition He said Dark times call for dark measures Pulse check, another clue Searching through your chemtrails You got me on the run Hit by your smoking gun Tick tock, the second hand Mister till I see you You got me on the run You got me on the run
7.
Caught playing London Bridges Snapped every last wire And now you’re selling stitches To every gun for hire Bye bye, I’ve got my foot in the door It’s only 23 floors down from the window Send me to Caledonia Under the sleepy Portlethen moss And I’ll stay a hundred years or more Until the gilded age is lost Bye bye, I’ve got my foot in the door It’s only 23 floors down from the window Baby, the drooling dogs at your feet They’re on your scent of dead meat So keep on trying Looking for a brand new galaxy Caught playing London Bridges Snapped every last wire And now you’re selling stitches To every gun for hire Bye bye, I’ve got my foot in the door It’s only 23 floors down from the window Baby, the drooling dogs at your feet They’re on your scent of dead meat So keep on trying Looking for a brand new galaxy
8.
Checkmate 03:29
I see your face I steal your place now, checkmate We trace the dust of hours We count the endless mistakes You took the bait You played the stakes now, checkmate To mend the cuts of minutes And sacrifice the end game We’re chasing the tides Your face, your disguise You praised the stage You pawned your claim now, checkmate Just for a fleeting minute Your records purged, your surname Erasing the lines Your face, your disguise A race against time Your face, your disguise Stacked up beneath the glass
9.
I love the radio and all the girls on the waves They make my feet go Skip a beat night and day Turning every stone Charting every sea Up in the studio Penelope’s on her game, she’s on her way Sue’s got the ratio and Ruby has got a thing for cabaret Turning every stone, we’re right here Charting every sea I love the radio and all the girls on the waves Me and my Jane Does Skip a beat night and day Turning every stone, we’re right here And charting every sea I love the radio I love the radio
10.
Fantasy, you got me reaching for the brass ring One step higher Third degree, I’m getting dizzy in the heat of Your crossfire Gravity has got me spinning in your jet stream Draw me in tighter Chemistry, you put the diesel in my cup of tea Humming like a choir Fantasy, you got me reaching for the backseat One step higher Third degree, I’m feeling dizzy in the heat of Your crossfire Gravity, you got me spinning in your jet stream Draw me in tighter Chemistry, you put the diesel in my cup of tea Purring like a tiger Holiday, what a daze

about

..."An alternate universe where Brian Eno produced "Rumours" and Alex Chilton wrote songs with Blondie..."

San Francisco 5 piece Latitude's sophomore album "Mystic Hotline" builds on the foundations of their acclaimed 2017 debut with a triumphant foray into 21st century power pop.

Although often drawing comparisons to such pop heavyweights as Blondie, The Nerves, Nick Lowe, and The Pretenders LATITUDE are far from revivalists, as this album testifies. "Mystic Hotline" reflects the present darker mood of the country, veering from carefree 60s/70s pop into more angsty 80s territory.

That sentiment is evident in "Damage Control", a sonic bristling at a grotesque new Trump reality. "Rising" testifies to the senselessness of the Ghost Ship fire in Oakland, and the media blame game that followed. Vertical Highway is a deceptively happy ditty about death. Those are counterbalanced by songs like Thursday Is The New Sunday's praise for lazy love and I Love The Radio, a tribute to the many talented female musicians in the Bay Area.

Also available from Emotional Response Records: emotional-response-recs.bandcamp.com/album/mystic-hotline

credits

released October 6, 2020

Songs written by Amy Fowler, arranged by Latitude
Recorded and mixed by Phil Manley at El Studio, SF, Ca
Mastered by Myles Boisen
Cover art by Sarah Mazzetti

Amy Fowler: vocals, guitar
Josh Miller: guitar
Justin Frahm: keyboards, vocals
Rob Duncan: bass
Joe Z. Armin: drums, vocals

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