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Santa Cruz

by Pedro the Lion

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Paul WH
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Paul WH It's been well over a decade since I listened to some Pedro. Found this album or it found me? Grateful either way. "It'll All Work Out" has the saddest synth I've heard in my life... Favorite track: It’ll All Work Out.
Dustin B.
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Dustin B. This is the most relatable album I have ever listened to. This is a deconstructionist / exvangelical bible for artist's hearts types.

AOTY short list 2024 Favorite track: Little Help.
Mikel Dji
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Mikel Dji On se brossera les dents en équipe.

L'envers sera notre confort.

Un adverbe qui inspire.

Toujours.
rocknation79
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rocknation79 Another gem in the epic journey we have been taking with Pedro the Lion since Phoenix! Beautifully sad and yet triumphantly resolute in a road to recovery from dark shadows of a past that was, or might have been. Only time will tell. Favorite track: Don’t Cry Now.
buffaloboobs
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buffaloboobs wish I could see p mccartney's face the first time he heard Little Help and Modesto, and the rest of the album, for that matter.
I know it's only June, and it's also been less than a week since the album's release, but I have a strong feeling... this is some fucking type of masterpiece, it's incredible: so impressively compact, yet richly detailed, sounds totally Pedro, and not a sound I would've anticipated... and simultaneously seems like most the perfect, obvious evolution. <3 Bazan 🤟
AtttitudeJacket
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AtttitudeJacket I thought I'd be sick of albums documenting the life and childhood of Bazan, but I think this is the strongest entry into the series. He's a master of the sentimental banger.
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1.
This won’t have to stay hidden forever But it has to stay hidden for now Maybe trading stories with a future friend If I lay it down And I keep my eyes on you It’ll all work out If I make myself friendly If I put others needs before my own Don’t let my heart be hardened If I make myself friendly Put others’ needs before my own Don’t let my heart be hardened, Lord
2.
Santa Cruz 02:40
First day of 8th grade The stupidest backpack Regretted it As soon as I stepped out of the car Neon green acid wash To last me the whole year I loved it in Phoenix at the mall with my Grandma So I’ll never be cool here It’s under the surface With skaters and surfers I crave an identity That I can’t buy at Mervyn's Escape to my headphones But christian rock worship Was starting to pale To what I was immersed in Magnetic vibrations One with the weather And the cold waves A sea and a mountain In their eroding embrace Forever Alone in my room with A haunted religion Wormwood and Screwtape And a witch’s invitation Tongues talking spirit Kneeling to listen A novel about demons That christians weren’t missing As kids we were taught By the blood they can’t kill you In this book they do And I need to know what’s true We live by the bible college Dad had a job at After school I would Ride my bike to the Spot Play ping pong with freshman Just hit it all back Don’t attack They'll make mistakes And start questioning everything My folks went to school here When they were just twenty Started their romance Waited til marriage A shining example Of what was expected Allowed to have sex then Can’t wait til I get there Magnetic vibrations One with the weather And the cold waves A sea and a mountain In their eroding embrace Forever
3.
Little Help 03:04
Saw a new friend from church at the mall Nervous he wouldn’t recall me Bracing myself to feel invisible That’s when he walked up and said something surprising His mom said I could spend the night Looking over at my folks They said alright Flipping through his dad’s LPs in his room Recognized one from the movie They showed us at camp about rock and roll If you play it on reverse it says turn me on dead man We got bored in no time So we played the record forward and set the needle down I couldn’t stop laughing It’s my birthday too yeah Treading water on the open ocean Then you threw me out a life ring All I needed was a little help from a friend Back at my school feeling more like myself Wandering the hallways in headphones Singing along to the fool on the hill That’s when this kid smirked What are you doing and do you wanna come surfing Treading water on the open ocean Then you threw me out a life ring I was getting pretty used to drowning All I needed was a godsend All I needed was a little help from a friend
4.
Tall Pines 02:57
Riding in a moving truck again Northern California dusk is barely hanging in They need a music pastor at a church in Paradise Here we come guys Keeping my eyes wide open For the long shadows In the tall pines Now what’s a winning twelfth grade girl want with a freshman We took our shirts off in my bedroom, french kissing Both lying to our parents Keeping my eyes wide open For the long shadows In the tall pines But it’s over now I like it here anyway Sunday church Friends in the pews What am I gonna do Follow in my father’s footsteps Or maybe music work I haven’t dreamt of yet I hope it’s drumset Keeping my eyes wide open For the long shadows In the tall pines Dad waited til school let out To confront his boss For doing wrong And it’s time to move again
5.
If I don’t cry now The trees’ll be sick If I don’t cry now The rocks will insist I'm pretending to be someone else If I don’t cry now My sister and I snuck through the strange church office Past the secretary’s desk In her eyes I saw it By “you poor kids” my face was set in a half smile Having learned by now that frozen cheeks Can sell my denial If I don’t cry now The trees’ll be sick If I don’t cry now The rocks will insist I'm pretending to be someone else If I don’t cry now Watching the interstate go by From the backseat window Heart still soft Eyes still wide Head still on a swivel
6.
Remembering 02:51
In Seattle Feeling settled for now Got a guitar On my lap on the couch I hear piano From my sister’s room Dad wonders if I know how to tune He doesn’t really play guitar But he showed me several chords So I could use em to write a song of my own Remembering a good friend From a couple towns ago I sat trying to strum the chords Started humming along Feeling several emotions That I usually try to avoid Under the spell of your own sad song Oh joy Drumming in a band Makin funny friends Breathing oxygen On the landline Friend from Paradise Is wondering if I'm Just gonna disappear And it hit me right then that I was Told her I'm not proud of it But I had to keep moving
7.
All I know I learned from failure All I know From eternally fuckin up The teacher I go back to Over and over One more thing All I know I learned from wonder All I know From wandering in the darkness But I won’t be overcome by it How smart do I have to get Before I'm allowed to graduate Desperately I don’t wanna be Teacher’s pet Couldn’t focus on nothing but drums and guitar Couldn’t keep up with the homework Dad tried keep me from falling too far Said earn a 3.0 or wear a collared shirt Wouldn’t dream of going all the way But I still went too far with my girlfriend Tell me you love promise you’ll stay Treat me however you want then I drove her mom's car without asking Unlicensed I crashed it in traffic I asked my friend to trade places Cost all my savings Years of payments How smart do I have to get Before I'm allowed to graduate Honestly trying to give myself to this Praying that I can get away with it Desperately I don’t wanna be Teacher’s pet
8.
Parting 03:27
Breakfast shift in the dish room Sorting silverware Through heavy tears I missed a buzzer The boss came back to scold me Then he shifted gears My family’s in a uhaul right now Moving away from here But I finally got some roots down And I can’t leave senior year I thought it would be different I know we all did Dreaming together again Never knowing when it’s the last time In several hefty garbage bags I packed up my whole life Loaded them with mom and I For a rainy all day drive Graduated yesterday Said a hundred more goodbyes You sweetly slept in the passenger seat I gripped the wheel Messed up inside Dreaming together again Never knowing when it’s the last time Never knowing when it’s the last time
9.
Modesto 03:53
Modesto isn’t boring like you thought it would be Modesto it’s not bologna like you thought it would be Modesto isn’t lonely like you thought it would be At first I got a vacuum cleaner salesman job For men I later recognized in Glengarry Glen Ross I only sold one She couldn’t afford it She wrote out the check And burst out sobbing After work I hung out with my new church friends and traded stories We decided I should quit and then we laughed and carried on til morning Next day I got a part-time job at the local guitar store Modesto isn’t boring like you thought it would be Modesto it’s not bologna like you thought it would be Modesto isn’t lonely like you thought it would be I heard the perfect song at work today Having asked if there were bands to see and spots to play Jim said hell yeah then he handed me a tape What I heard in my walkman headphones Pacing by the speakers and PAs Was a beautiful hilarious tragic mess That sent tears streaming down my face Grabbed me by the lapels, stood me up, and put a 4-track in my hand and told me son Make all the messes you can manage to make And move back to Seattle Be the drummer in a band There’s a girl from there that fridays on my lunch break I write letters to And I think she likes me too And I'm gonna find out I'm gonna go to bible college on my cousin’s dime In my volvo wagon Speeding up I-5
10.
Spend Time 02:36
Spend time with the energy Spend time with the energy Spend time with the enemy At college I started my own band Then I dropped out to play shows Found me a room where I live and rehearse I'm pretty excited to see how it goes Is what I would’ve said To the cousins I love At Christmas dinner when they asked me what I was up to If I had courage left Instead I told em I was teaching drumset I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let myself let it in I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let myself Spend time with the energy Spend time with the energy Spend time with the enemy Then when my mother pulled me aside Looked me in the eye Said why you saying that You’re really doin the band Don’t be ashamed of it Back in my room Drumming with Paul He can rip it up like an animal But when it when it was my turn I couldn’t let go Or get out of my head Or into the flow I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let myself let it in I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let it I couldn’t let myself Spend time with the energy Spend time with the energy Spend time with the enemy
11.
Now you’re looking up But that’s a very lonely decade in the rear view And it feels like only yesterday Still trying to shake it off But memories have a way of sticking with you They ache like only yesterday You try I know But you haven’t found connection to hold on to And it haunts you So many places where you don’t belong Can’t fight this feeling like you’re almost home It won’t be long You found a way to put it now And your grief is not a burden, it’s energy That burns like only yesterday You got around to finding out And you feel it more than ever She’s the one for you And she likes you too So many places where you don’t belong Can’t fight this feeling like you’re almost home It won’t be long A lighthouse and a satellite Are making plans Holding hands Spinning wheels I finally feel Some sunlight on my face

about

Early into Santa Cruz, the poignant third album in David Bazan’s ongoing musical memoir of his sometimes-uncanny life, he discovers the Beatles. He is the new kid from Arizona in a new school in the famous California coastal town where his dad has accepted another post at a Bible college. He and his first friend there, Matt, are sitting on the carpet in Matt’s little bedroom, flipping through the records bequeathed by his father, when Bazan spots a familiar cover—The White Album, known only from a church documentary that warned children of the Satanic secrets of “Revolution 9.” Play it backwards, the propaganda said, and it would offer a command: “Turn me on, dead man.”

So, of course, the kids played it forward and were fascinated by the sound, by the imagination, by the act of consecrated creativity far outside of Christian rock. Bazan was 13. “Treading water on the open ocean/Then you threw me out a life ring,” he sings, the smile obvious just through the sound as the beat picks up like a racing pulse, more than three decades later. “All I needed was a little help from a friend.” That is the moment where, in many ways, the remarkable songs of Pedro the Lion begin to take shape.

In 2019, after a 15-year break filled with solo records and side-projects, Bazan returned to the moniker under which he had become one of indie rock’s most identifiable voices and incisive songwriters, Pedro the Lion. He sort of stumbled into 2019’s Phoenix, a charged chronicle of his childhood there, while spending the night with his grandparents during a tour stop. But he soon understood that unpacking his peripatetic youth, where his music minister father shifted around the country like a Marine moving bases, was helpful, healing, and maybe even interesting. The gripping Havasu followed in 2022. Bazan was onto something, untangling all the ways his past had both shaped and misshaped his present inside some of his best songs ever.

That past truly begins to become the present on Santa Cruz, the most fraught and frank album yet in a planned five-album arc; this one covers a little less than a decade, from just after he turned 13 until he turns toward adulthood around 21. These songs ripple with the anxiety and energy of teenage awakening—of hearing rock ’n’ roll, of understanding that independent music exists, of making out with an older schoolmate in deepest secret, of falling in love, of finally starting to understand that in order to be yourself you’re going to need to be something other than your parents’ vision of you. It is the rawest, most affecting and affirming album Pedro the Lion has ever made.

Santa Cruz begins with a prayer that feels like a dirge, a synth-led funeral march to another town where Bazan knows no one. “If I lay it down/And I keep my eyes on you,” he moans, steeling himself through self-sacrifice. “It’ll all work out.” But when he arrives in Santa Cruz to begin eighth grade, the self-flagellation comes quickly, Bazan lecturing himself for the lameness of the neon-green backpack he picked out in Phoenix and the Christian rock that is his lifeblood. For decades now, Bazan has been known for his music’s deliberate pace, often linked to slowcore. Here, however, he renders detailed images in rapid-fire waves, his voice stapled atop the quick rhythm like never before in order to capture his nerves as he learns there might be life outside of his family’s Christian fiefdom—apocrypha, whispers of sex, mere games of ping-pong.

But every time stability seems to appear during these 11 songs, the family is off to another job. By ninth grade, amid the metronomic mile markers of “Tall Pines,” they are headed for little Paradise, where there are dreams of drum sets and clandestine shirtless make-out sessions when his parents are away. With the stirring “Don’t Cry Now,” as close to a dance track as Pedro the Lion has ever made, they’re bound for Seattle, where Bazan found his own fledgling music scene, deepening friendships, and the dawn rays of what would become his future.

When his family splits for California yet again, he stays behind, living with a friend just so he can graduate from the place where he’s become so invested in drums, guitars, and songs that he’s barely maintained his grades. The day after he graduates, he stuffs everything he owns into plastic garbage bags and heads south with his mom, returning to the family flock, now in Modesto. “You sweetly slept in the passenger seat/I gripped the wheel, messed up inside,” he sings of his mother during “Parting,” his voice a true-to-life admixture of love and longing, of devotion and doubt.

The six-month stay in Modesto, though, would prove to be among the most transformative moments of his life, the slow-motion catapult that sent him into right now. After he quits selling vacuum cleaners to sad women, he nabs a gig at a guitar store. That’s where he hears a crisp piece of lo-fi wizardry from a local Modesto band, a moment that feels almost like a Beatles-sized revelation, a permission slip that says he can, in fact, make music on a scale as small as he wants. He writes the first Pedro the Lion songs there, and, in the cathartic and gorgeous climax of “Modesto,” vows to return to Seattle, to be in a band, to fall in love, to be himself. Its successor, “Spend Time,” feels like some skeletal and celebratory arena-rock anthem, with incandescent harmonies and sharp harmonics and slicing riffs. Back in Seattle, “back in his room, drumming with Paul,” he is on the precipice of the rest of his life, the life that you now know as a listener.

When Bazan began considering the times and the songs that would soon become Santa Cruz, he thought about fictionalizing it all. He could break with the narratives of Phoenix and Havasu to give himself and everyone else in the story some critical distance. These events are not old news, after all, and he worried about untangling the active threads of the rather recent past from right now. And would it seem like he was scolding his parents, two people trying to raise kids the best they knew how? The result does not feel like blame. It feels like redemption, like finding the way forward for yourself, however it happens. “Your grief is not a burden,” Bazan beautifully sings in one of the final verses. “It’s energy.” And it’s currently powering one of the most real, riveting, and powerful song cycles in memory, happening right now.

credits

released June 7, 2024

Produced by Andy D. Park & David Bazan

Lyrics by David Bazan
Music on all tracks written by David Bazan with Erik Walters & Andy D. Park
Track 5 music written with Andy Fitts
Track 7 music written with Charles Chace
Synth, drums, & vocals by David Bazan
Electric Guitar & backing vocals by Erik Walters
Bike by Sean Lane
Some keys on track 5 by Andy Fitts

Recorded, Mixed, & Mastered by Andy D. Park at The Crumb
Art Direction by Jesse LeDoux
Cover photos by David Bazan
Studio photo by Ryan Russell
Management: Bob Andrews at Undertow
Booking: Trey Many
Publicity: Nathan Walker at Riot Act Media
Publishing: Jeff Pachman at Domino Publishing Co
Legal: Richard Grabel

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