Husbandry

by Screen Wives

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      £5 GBP  or more

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    When bands mess up their vinyl orders, they panic and order a short run of CDs. This is that CD.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Husbandry via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 2 days

      £6 GBP or more 

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Crunchy 12" of our first album, pressed on black vinyl, artwork by Corey. Comes with download code.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Husbandry via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 5 days

      £10 GBP or more 

     

1.
2.
03:22
3.
4.
02:00
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
02:19
10.
11.
01:36

about

Thanks to our friends families, lovers, cats and nurses.

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Wayne Adams at Bear Bites Horse studios in London, March 2016

credits

released November 1, 2016

PERSONNEL:

Corey- Strings, shouting, totes masc
Tom – Banging, butch top
Muck – Shouting, strings, piano, femme queen

Alessia Lee – Guest vocals on “Trashboat”

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Screen Wives London, UK

Panic-ridden post-hardcore for fats and fems.

contact / help

Contact Screen Wives

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: Introduction to Husbandry
Final tour of duty for our decayed body, swing it second pilgrim, sashay to shadow city. The audience has left, well I'll be damned! Play it again [REDACTED], I’ll be my own husband. No-one else will sing for me, bring your cowboys and cavalry.
Track Name: Husbandry
The drinking stopped so did time I'm not everyone, everyone was right. Why can't you be alone tonight? Do you have to be a widower/a dutiful wife? [REDACTED] could have stapled me shut when he pulled back out, my hull is breached and my insides secreting pink champagne for a ship that's sinking. [REDACTED] could have taken me for walks so I didn't get fat. Half-senile and pregnant, I can taste the salt in everything, but tonight I discovered I'm my own evil twin. I tapped his phone, but nobody calls, no-one at all, no…
Track Name: Well Grooomed
I’m so bored of you big strong boys.

Legs splayed wide for incoming tide cursed and charmed, spread coastlike, wet eyes dried by sunrise with a bellyful of sea. Kindness and luxury. Send xxxmas cards, [REDACTED] and dark arts, wide eyed and wowed, unsafe, unsound, braindead and proud. Aching hands and mouth dip into the hive, hearts all rot but the Queen is still alive.
Track Name: Soft Lad
"Son did you try? You chose a sad and diseased way to die". [REDACTED] was right, my head's a burnt forest nothing gets out alive. Kept it from your eyes, lived on nerves, stomach acid and spite, tell me the first time you gave up, failures clearly outlined. (But my voice lisps high and close to God, though my belly's swole and my tooths are bucked). Adversity won't make you strong, kind or pretty, thirty years to find the body, silhouettes in shadow city.
Track Name: For Emma blahblahblahblahblah...
Like Russian dolls you’re full of yrself, cheap shots in [REDACTED], his name’s in lights and comic sans. All guts, no glory, a failure of nerve. Betrayed, it’s all on our fucktape, replayed on CCTV. He wrote songs all about me, a dull male revenge fantasy. His life’s soundtrack is all sighs of resignation, a Greek chorus of ex-lovers yawn in his ear.
Track Name: Stained in Love Divine
Horse hairs in my throat, fingers greased for wedding bands. Diamonds on his paws, count them as they disappear. My love takes my hand in the street, where Jesus won’t he walks with me.
Track Name: Desert Father/Acid Mother
…and [REDACTED] came with a sword, I've just got acid and a shot gun, stuck in the desert fully sunburned, with a fading sense of humour. I left the sands fully loaded, I left the desert with a passenger, I left the dunes with a suntan, head like a fully loaded rickshaw. [REDACTED] was right, there's no love in the corrupted world, there’s no love until the kingdom come. I left the sands with blistered hands.
Track Name: Millions in Prizes
Are these diamonds that I see or glass inside my feet? Is this silver that I see or fillings from my teeth? Where I’m from the world is small and it’s pancake flat, you can't see the land when you're staring at the map. Dreams of [REDACTED] burning down and making swift escape, sing(ing) "I miss your love back when the going was good". Now the going's going's gone, where do we go next?
Track Name: Divorchestra
Ran out of songs so I wrote a list, to keep me sane and keep me here about how your arms are like coming home to: my favourite film on loop, a deconsecrated church, returning to a ransacked house, an abandoned hospital, a burnt down tenement, a hall of mirrors and a severed head. It’s like: steering a ship towards a lighthouse burning down, the last night train to [REDACTED].

I have lost a lot of blood, but that's long since stopped being enough. It’s like coming home. It's like sleeping nearly alone. I only sleep to dream of sleep, to put a shine on the wolf's sharp teeth as it devours us from below.
Track Name: Trashboat Deluxxe (feat. Alessia Lee)
M: I’m all smiles can’t you tell from my jaw?
A: Let’s eat trash and get hit by a car.

Both: Oh sweetheart, what hideous creatures we are!

M: Our bodies will be hubris and debris
A: A spacious carapace for a hell of a drag race.

Both: Aspartame will kill us but no quicker than the road, so let me bury myself there, tic-like in yr unwashed chest hair. Breath is fresh from the morning. Being in your arms is everything, Trash mouth!
Track Name: Grandeur
Nowt to say but it takes you all day to say it, You’re yr mothers son (ALRIGHT!), make out but won't stay the night. Speak our language, pulled teeth and mute tongue, each ear we lick is deaf, come kiss our heads clean off. We are fixed for our close up, fit to be crowned. Oh that bloody mess we left in [REDACTED]. All the eunuchs in [REDACTED] from station to station will sing for our coronation. A string section, a brass fucking band, now hear an orchestra, not 3 cavemen, clubs in hand.