Another Tuesday

Another Tuesday - Alistair Finch

From his spare room studio in Swindon comes "Another Tuesday," a soundscape blending spoken-word observations with melancholic melodies and atmospheric electronics. It's a journey through a rain-slicked, neon-lit urban night, exploring the quiet moments and fleeting connections of city life. Think less a song, more electronic poetry.

Lyrics:

Another night unwinds beneath a fractured, urban sky...
A thousand whispers rise, then fade – another untold sigh.
The city's breath, a siren song, for those without a home,
Still searching, ever onward, though the path is yet unknown.

What hides behind the practiced smile, the careful, measured phrase?
Another mirrored masquerade, where truth in shadows stays.
We move as one, yet separate – these shades the moonlight spills,
Tracing circles on the cold, hard ground, pursuing phantom thrills.

Streetlights hum a weary tune, a static, droning song,
Reflected in the oily streams, where midnight's ghosts prolong.

And we’re chasing echoes down a hollow hall,
Tuning into frequencies before they fade and disappear.
Neon murmurs, concrete sighs, another fleeting, borrowed glow,
Caught in the reflection—where do all the dreamers go?

Within the crowded bar, a light, like distant, dying gold,
She sits enthroned in shadow, a story to unfold.
Drawn in close, like moths to flames, a warmth that cannot last
Another night of reaching—doomed to swiftly pass.

The air is thick with longing, a crescendo starts to build,
Faces blur to watercolor, with unspoken yearning filled.

And we’re chasing echoes down a hollow hall,
Tuning into frequencies before they fade and disappear.
Neon murmurs, concrete sighs, another fleeting, borrowed glow,
Caught in the reflection—where do all the dreamers go?

Is this the price we pay for hope—this city’s gleaming lie?
These endless, empty nights repeat, beneath a watchful eye.
The skyline's steel embrace surrounds, a comfort cold and vast,
Lost, seeking any signal, in reflections of the past.

And we’re chasing echoes down a hollow hall,
Tuning into frequencies before they fade and disappear.
Neon murmurs, breaking sighs, another fleeting, borrowed glow,
Caught in the reflection—where do all the dreamers go?

...Shadows... echoes... silver light...
...Another night... another night...

About Alistair Finch:

Alistair Finch crafts electronic "soundscapes" using vintage synthesizers and a found drum machine. Influenced by electronic pioneers, post-punk, and the London Underground, he creates atmospheric, melancholic pieces. He prefers the term "sound architect."