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 - Out April 25th
Pre-order the album and merch: https://tennis-music.com/pages/mercha...

ON TOUR - tickets: https://tennis-music.com/

All things Tennis: https://linktr.ee/tennisinc

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