(The Future) Kayo Dot gracefully smash your windows

Far back on a rocky crag amid black twisted boughs of thorny pine and gnarled oak, a chapel lies discarded. Wind creaks around shutters, clattering them against the livid daggers of once-windows. The forest crowds in close to rake its narrow fingers over buttresses and dismembered statuary. These sounds make up an inhospitable dull roar that submerges any footsteps climbing the walk outside. Inside, however, there is an unearthly stillness in which each glittering drop of water slipping from the...

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