Rifle Strangers from Hearthscrap by Curbfolk

The air cracks with the sound of incoming trouble. This track unfolds a confrontation at the Splay's edge, detailing the unsettling arrival of outsiders who carry old-world ideologies like worn banners. Aggressive guitar jabs and a relentless, quick-fire drum pattern paint an aural landscape of immediate tension, capturing the gut-knotting anxiety of a community braced for conflict. The song’s unique structure, shifting perspectives between the vulnerable residents and the threatening strangers, builds a palpable sense of unease, letting the listener feel the adrenaline and the desperate, wry humor of those trying to avoid a fight. This development over the track, from initial threat to a quiet resolution, is central to what the artist aims to convey: the strength in de-escalation, the radical act of choosing peace when armed. Homemade percussion clatters like weapons readied then reluctantly set aside, underscoring the delicate balance between survival and violence. It's an exploration of how external pressures shape the Splay’s defensive but determined spirit, ending not in chaos, but a hard-won, almost exhausted, calm.

We're the ones you find on busted porches, scraping stories from concrete, tin-can percussion in our bones. When the streetlights flicker, our three-chord revolution blooms between broken bricks—fighting for rain tanks and neighbor bread, howling against the cold with patchwork hope.