Hit Zero /// Route 500

There’s a fuzzy reel of cinema, dilated and streaming down a ripcord that seems to almost abandon us at just the perfect moments. Combing through the dense wafting hotel rooms with a traffic of empty bottles, and a mouse trail of cigarette butts.

We find the music of Route 500 spanning the years of our lives as though clandestine devas in the world of upheaval, where we cover our eyes at the worst moments and find the dancing ballerinas bleeding angel tears of mascara. We can describe Route 500 “Hit Zero” like a montage of Father John Misty’s Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings and Vincent Gallo’s Buffalo 66, all the while in a seedy womb of sun kissed rapture.

“Hit Zero” is a song that drags you along to the innermost country of temptations, it’s rhythms are a hypnotic sandstorm somewhere in New Mexico perhaps and Route 500’s vocals charm you into oblivion.

If you have a penchant for the love torn and obscure, the rare invocation of impossible things, then you’ve come to the right place! There’s mystery behind those vocals like a lyre revealing it’s crimson teeth or giving you a knowing nod. There’s an emotional ire in the delivery that drives the song like it’s spiraling into ghost towns meeting strange faces without memory or language, only the tongues of pierced, rising smoke passing from lips like a telegram of Morse code.

You notice the airs change while Route 500 “Hit Zero” reverberates like a slow drawl of eternities plunging briefly, touching down onto the dour eyes of undressing bodies, a shock-thrill like a flight of herons while we are pulverized by the weight of the world passing by in mounds. All the while we collect valuable days of pleasures amounting to endless years Route 500 “Hit Zero” is a song for many things, we try to reveal its spirit which amasses depth and speed like vertigo- This is not a song to pass up. 

Written by Hari Palacio





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