Demo 2016

by Latchstring

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Recorded by David Sloan at The Unit, Portsmouth on the same Sunday in March 2016 that Southampton beat Liverpool 3-2 and Tottenham did Bournemouth 3-0. Jack snapped a metal kick-pedal beater stick thingy. That seemed noteworthy.

Photo by Kristianne Drake.

Thanks to those who deserve it (particularly Dave). No thanks to those who don’t. You know which camp you fall into. Yeah. You.

Available in CDr format from us at shows for £1.

Circle House Records of Exeter did a limited run C60 which is now sold out.


released April 9, 2016

Latchstring are the following averagely nice people:

Cat – Top end
Funcrusherrr – Low end
Jack – Hits things
Phil – Monotone
Stu – Top end, again



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Latchstring Southampton, UK

Southampton five piece. Revolution Summer/Emotional Hardcore/Youth Crew vibes.

Email: latchstringpunks [at] gmail [dot] com.


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Track Name: Consensus
Born into this world, no meaning beyond what they gave to me, no ambition but what was taught. Left with platitudes, this world no longer ours, assumptions we bought raining down as ash on us all. It was always war; consensus, stability, fake partnership with raging hate underneath. All those hopes for us turning grey in the flames; the truce that we lived stolen, fading as we watched. There is no map. There is no guide. But what I make myself. There is no hope. There is no dream. But what we make ourselves. I look for a new path, new ideals, new ideas, to survive this world.
Track Name: Reminder
It’s like a half brick chipping one way glass; we don’t even live in the same world. You rush past eyes blank wondering if one day it will be your boot stood upon my throat. So pull your world in, wrap it close around you. More than we’ll know tight in soft white hands. But: don’t you forget, politician your strength is our strength. Don’t you forget, Wall Street man your gains are our gains. Don’t you forget, pretty boy, your moves are our moves. Don’t you forget.
Track Name: Ghosts
We’re hungry, we’re spectres; throats thin, ash black fingers. We’re unfed, we’re craving. Empty. We’re never full. There is never enough. Lives chasing God-like roles. False visions we fall short of. Goals we set but can’t reach. Scorched earth of premade hope. I am not employment. I am not possessions. I am not expectations. But I can’t let go.
Track Name: Untitled
The name ‘Latchstring’ is a Kurt Vonnegut reference from the book Player Piano. We aren’t mega fans or anything; it was just something Jack suggested that we liked the sound of. It seems though that Vonnegut did interview pretty well and have some stuff to say - which is why we’ve sampled him on this song. Just don’t quiz us on his collected works, okay? Even if Phil has Breakfast of Champions on the go at the moment.
Track Name: Medicate
I have no right to tell you what you should do; your body is yours to do with and it’s your pain - not mine - your hurt that you control. And I hope you find peace. And I hope you find some relief. But I once was lost in blackouts, walking dead ends with no way out. And in the end that bottle just stops giving and starts to eat you up inside. Cos I am still haunted by what I’ve seen, by the safety nets no longer there, by what I carry with me. And if this resonates stop whatever you’ve got to stop to get by, to survive.

*We aren’t a straight edge band. This song is about how we’d prefer it if you didn’t drink/drug yourself into a big black hole. Thanks, well appreciated.
Track Name: Horoscope
TINA, your predictions tell us about the present, not the future. TINA, don’t you know the stars foretold the death and birth of tyrants? As below. It is above. When you look up what do you see? When you look up? TINA, the night skies tell us your expectations not what will be. TINA, why set sights so low as when to talk or hold your tongue? The foretelling of an endless present when once comets signalled worlds would turn.