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'Prayers' by Slaves is a 2019 track from the album 'To Better Days'. The lyrics cast a wary eye on a relationship built around appearances, parties, and repeated remorse. From the start, the singer observes someone who looks beautiful yet feels alone, and questions why they present themselves in a way that invites distance. The perspective turns sharper, with the narrator resisting the cycle of apologies and beginning to suspect that, when they are not there, they are being given lies. The refrain cuts off before any further detail, but the emotional thrust is clear: distrust, fatigue, and a plea for something more honest.
"Prayers" is a track by Slaves, from the album To Better Days, released 22nd November 2019. Full lyrics are available below. Dork has published 3 articles about Slaves.
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Slaves are back, and they’re shifting gears. With a new focus, a more concentrated form and actual proper choruses, everyone else should probably take cover.
The duo wander into unknown territory, with incredible results.
With their debut collection 'Sugar Coated Bitter Truth' turning five years old, Slaves head back to their Royal Tunbridge Wells roots to throw a party to remember.
Darkness descends upon Tunbridge Wells Forum. As the lights flicker across the stage and each letter cuts through the black, eventually forming one word, the crowd erupts. It's a palpable excitement, the kind that can only come from a hometown show. Two figures take to the stage - Isaac Holman and Laurie Vincent; aka Slaves. And these are their people. This venue is hallowed ground for them. It's where they played some of their first shows and even recorded their debut EP, 'Sugar Coated Bitter Truth', which is the cause of tonight's celebration - its fifth anniversary. Returning to play the EP in its entirety, bonus tracks and all, they're joined by a lucky hundred or so fans who managed to snag tickets to this last minute announcement - and not a single body is stationary. This celebration of Slaves' beginnings proves to be one for the lads' history books. The eleven tracks that make up ‘Sugar Coated…' find themselves brought back to life with a ferocity like never before, with the five years since its birth having seen the duo achieve more than they ever thought possible. Even the stories feel fabled at this point; ‘Girl Fight' has an introduction almost quadruple its brief fifteen second runtime, while absolute corker ‘Debbie, Where's Your Car?' sees its tale of Big Foot scares and late night wanderings feel all the more striking as the places these songs were influenced by are right outside the venue door. Barrelling through the EP, they also treat the thirsty crowd to a few newer cuts; ‘Fuck The Hi Hat' is quickly becoming a staple in their set, while the final one-two of ‘Spit It Out' and ‘The Hunter' turn the venue from a busy sweat box into a downright anarchic affair. As the last note rings out, and the ‘Slaves' lights turn off, the people of Royal Tunbridge Wells pour back out onto their now immortalised streets, having spent the evening with their hometown heroes.
"I love you more when you're angry with me," bellows Isaac Holman. "You're so boring when you're nice." It'd be easy to spend time skirting round the obvious elephant in Slaves' room, but one thing's for sure, they're not. Royal Tunbridge Wells' foremost proto punk provocateurs are hitting Reading like an unrelenting whirlwind, and it's going down a storm. A couple of years ago Isaac and Laurie were playing tiny stages. Now they're on the biggest of the lot. 'Sockets' rattles the bones, 'Do Something' stomps with heavy soled shoes. By any sensible logic a two piece with one album of mainstream attention to draw from should struggle, but these two aren't even considering the possibility. A giant rock launching itself into a series of sizeable puddles, they're here to make a splash. For a band who, on the surface, might seem almost two dimensional, there's a special kind of depth to Slaves too. As polarised and brash as their music, subtlety would miss the point. The blunt instrument is often the most effective, and with new tracks like 'Rich Man' ("I'm not your bitch, man"), their weapon of choice is a roughly lobbed half brick. "Fuck Brexit," shouts Laurie. He's got a point.
★★★
