Please wake up, my souls obscured in death’s blight
I feel times standing still you’re all I know
Accursed into this ache, I feel so hollow
In their latest offering, Please, Wake Up, DECEITS shape a tale of longing with the same quiet gravity that settles over a room when confession finally breaks through the throat. The song moves as if written by someone kneeling before the edge of their own dusk, hands trembling, heart thudding like a stubborn engine that refuses to die. Its first breath arrives with a hush, yet somewhere beneath that hush, you hear the faint churn of hope.
The band draws from familiar lineages yet tilts them toward their own lived world, letting the Chicano pulse of Los Angeles seep into the bones of their arrangement. Bass moves in low, steady strides, as though tracing the ground for a lost path. Percussion swings with a dancer’s patience, steadying the song even as its voice quivers. Guitars glow, clean and spare, while keyboards drift above them in soft arcs of smoke. The music feels built from breath and recollection, stitched together with care that is more devotional than decorative.
At the center stands a measured, wounded, and almost prayer-like vocal. The lyrics speak to someone who is, perhaps, gone or unreachable, begging for a return of light in a life grown dim. It’s not grief in the grand, tragic sense; it’s the grief that grows slowly in the quiet hours, that lays its hands on a person and makes their thoughts move heavy as wet cloth. The plea is constant, circling, near liturgical. “Wake up” becomes less a request to another person and more a lantern held toward the singer’s own spirit.
As the song progresses, its pace tightens. The bass grows more insistent, the drums take longer strides, and the guitars widen into a slow burn that edges toward release. The bridge offers a moment of suspension – an inhalation before the plunge – held aloft by keyboards that ring like distant bells calling across a field. Then comes the swell, a crest of sound where voice and instruments rise together, not in fury but in something like exhausted yearning.
Listen to Please, Wake Up below:
DECEITS began as a pact between lifelong friends Kevin Moreno and Francisco Saenz in late 2021—two kids from Los Angeles who grew up with Spanish-language rhythms in their blood and post-punk in their bones. What started in bedrooms and borrowed rehearsal rooms has since grown into one of the city’s most steadfast underground forces, a group whose songs feel pulled from late-night sidewalks and half-forgotten memories. Their following didn’t arrive overnight; it gathered slowly, like a circle of candles around a stage, drawn to the way the band lets longing and lift coexist in every measure.
Their debut album, If There’s No Heaven…, arrived in November 2023—an independent release that moved through the scene on word of mouth and worn-out shoe leather. Tracks such as “Drowning in an Empty Sea” and “Mi Amor, Mi Vampira” became quiet staples, the kind of songs traded between friends with the promise that they would land somewhere deep. The acclaim carried the band across the U.S., into a sold-out night at the El Rey Theatre, and eventually onto the bill for Cruel World 2025.
Rooted in devotion to groups like The Cure, New Order, Motorama, The Chameleons, and Caifanes, DECEITS shape their influences into something unmistakably their own—brighter in color, heavier in heart, guided by the pulse of the communities that raised them. Today, the band moves forward as a trio: Kevin “Puppy” Moreno on vocals, bass, keyboards, and guitar; Francisco Saenz on percussion; and Skylar Francise on guitar. Together, they build songs that feel like messages left on a doorstep at dusk—quiet, urgent, and meant for whoever needs them most.
Catch DECEITS live. Tickets available here.
- Dec. 5 — Fox Theater Pomona, Pomona CA
- Dec. 14 — The Roxy Theater, Hollywood CA
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