The thorns they scratch so silently
Reminder of what’s come to be
You’re gone, there is no turning back
My universe is turning black
Boston newcomers Burn Kit burst forward with their emotionally charged single, High Spirits Don’t Live Here, featured prominently on their debut EP, Fallen Rose. With this heartfelt anthem of despair, the band delves into the heavy emotional aftermath of loss, vividly illustrating the void left behind in spaces once filled with warmth and connection. Known already for their fiercely energetic stage presence, Burn Kit presents a more intimate side, exploring the intense emptiness and profound ache associated with mourning.
Listeners will find unmistakable echoes of post-punk pioneers: Joy Division, Wire, and Gang of Four, threaded through Burn Kit’s debut, with flickers of early R.E.M. and The Damned lending further nuance to their taut, emotionally charged sound.
High Spirits Don’t Live Here stares absence in the face. It captures how once-familiar spaces can turn hollow, how comfort curdles into unease, and how memory can sting sharper than silence. Valentino’s voice trembles with purpose, threading through the chiming, cutting guitars of Joshua and Frank. Twin bass lines from Padraic and Christopher create a slow-building pressure beneath, locked in step with Andrew’s deliberate, heartbeat percussion. The song blooms with striking imagery: fallen petals, thorn-pricked grief, and the suffocating stillness of aftermath. “High Spirits Don’t Live Here” transforms pain into presence with startling precision.
Directed by Austin Kranick and filmed in a historic cemetery chapel in Dover, New Hampshire, the accompanying video deepens the track’s emotional pull. Set against a snow-draped graveyard, it opens with tolling bells and mourners stepping from a hearse. Inside the chapel, the band performs in manic gloom, while Valentino prowls outside among the headstones, bouquet in hand. With its unexpected visual cues and cinematic flair, the video mirrors the song’s quiet devastation and sense of ritual farewell.
The chapel, unused for funeral services in decades, had since been repurposed as a cemetery office, though little had changed inside. Original pews and a dusty lectionary remained, lending a ghostly authenticity to the shoot. But what truly startled the band was the discovery of a chain-operated casket lift rising from the basement. As they recount it, the moment felt like a close encounter with the reaper himself:
“We oiled up the old chain crank and somehow got that platform functioning again,” Valentino remembers. “It hadn’t been moved in forever and was very heavy. On one of our test runs (fortunately with no one on or below it) the platform came off track and it fell to the ground from up high. Anyone below it would have been killed instantly. That was a good lesson learned for the first take. So we sent the casket up without me in it and I entered it for the first shot once it was already up on the stage and off the lift. We were cautious that the floor in front of the stage might give out and fall down 12-15 feet at any point. Luckily it stayed securely for the rest of the shoot.”
“The music video centers around death,” says Valentino. “It is obviously a symbolic representation…if you pay attention to small detail, you will see a clip where I’m sunken in the snow on my knees, singing to the gravestone of the person that I miss….The setting we chose sets the tone for the emotional basis of this video by letting the viewer in on this lightly-attended, frigid, dark funeral service for an unrevealed person. It is the listener’s choice who that person is.”
“One thing that will always stick in our minds is how unbelievably freezing this was,” he continues. “It was the coldest day in this area that I can think of in recent history. There was no heat or water in the chapel and hardly any working electricity. If the power blew, we would have been in trouble. We’re so lucky it didn’t. Our limbs were numb all day as negative temperatures haunted us both inside and outside the building. The snow-covered graveyard footage, the EP front and back cover… it was as cold as it looks, if not colder.”
Watch below:
Burn Kit exploded onto the music scene by performing 140 shows across five international tours in just their first year, including extensive journeys through Europe, North America, and even Hawaii alongside The Dwarves. Recently, they joined punk legends Dead Boys for an electrifying U.S. tour, with round two set to kick off this September. Driven by deep personal connections and a shared creative vision, Burn Kit channels raw emotion into their music, particularly highlighted by the presciently tragic song “High Spirits Don’t Live Here,” which ironically foreshadowed a profound personal loss experienced by the band’s songwriter.
Their commitment to authentic, physical music releases mirrors their ethos of human connectivity and a longing for genuine, tangible experiences—epitomized by releasing their EP on vinyl. Musically inspired by Boston’s vibrant punk scene, Burn Kit meticulously crafts their sound with layered guitars, chorus-drenched bass reminiscent of Peter Hook, and dynamic songwriting that prioritizes emotion and immediacy. The band draws heavily on non-musical influences, especially nature and real-world interactions, infusing their soundscapes with a sense of beauty, nostalgia, and existential depth, evident in tracks like “Fallen Rose” and “When You Know You, You Know.”
Listen to “High Spirits Don’t Live Here” below. The Fallen Rose EP boasts two more captivating tracks and is available for order on a 7” vinyl record here.
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