Tennis - 12 Blown Tires (Official Video)

On a cross country drive at the end of tour, our van and trailer blew four tires in quick succession. That particular stretch of highway was a tire graveyard. I counted the shredded remains of twelve tires from where we sat on the side of the road, swapping out our last spare. Our bad luck was heavily contrasted by the good night we’d just had in Houston. The highs and lows of tour are unnatural, disorienting. On the shoulder of I-40, I began writing the lyrics to 12 Blown Tires. It is a constellation of memories from the road, and of our marriage, two endeavors that are completely, hopelessly entangled. When we recorded 12 Blown Tires a few months later, I had the sense of distilling the past fifteen years into four minutes of music. It felt like the end of something, though I wasn’t sure what. Patrick and I spent most of our twenties and all of our thirties focused on Tennis. It has been the most joyous, bewildering, challenging, humbling experience. After finishing Face Down In The Garden, it became clear that we had said everything we wanted to say, and achieved everything we wanted to achieve with our band. This will be our last studio album, at least in this configuration as Tennis. We are ready to pursue other creative projects, and to make space in our life for new things. In that light the upcoming tour feels more poignant, like a concluding thought. These two kids from Denver who only ever dreamed of playing a few house shows are very fulfilled. We'd love to see you on the road on our farewell tour. If your city isn't listed on our current tour, we are working on that. As always, thank you. xx, A From the upcoming album, Face Down In The Garden - tennis-music.com Credits: Coloring and Editing by Steve Voss Directed by Tennis Lyrics: Making excuses looking back I’m getting good at ignoring the past    Seems like our luck was all we had Hold me so long without having to ask For me again, I go on counting Press my desire to the margins I’ve been face down in the garden You’re quick but time moves faster   Love like a natural disaster When I walk I’m barely touching the pavement You smile and laugh while you’re waving To me again, I go on counting No flower withers No flower withers in your hand, in your hand I know you are the golden son                        And where you walk new life has begun          Waiting for fate to make it fast Hold me so long without having to ask 12 blown tires in under a mile 12 blown tires in under a mile Looking for a stone in a dust pile Counted 12 blown tires in under a mile              Swaying backstage at terminal five Fleshed out kissed up I’m feeling alive Looking for a storm in this weather    Couldn’t even rub two dimes together When I walk I’m barely touching the pavement We smile and laugh while we’re waving Cycling down the drain to the basement Hang on to the time that I wasted For me again, I go on counting I see our fates go on colliding