Cricket Spin

Cricket Spin


Cricket Spin is the words and music of Ben Yonda performed with the help of a handful of well-wishers.


From a secluded basement in Brooklyn, an assemblage of folk singers,punk rock kids and classical musicians come together under the collective name of Cricket Spin. Fueled by a mixture of red wine and brightly colored sweets, the group creates lush arrangements, adorned with orchestral swells and thoughtful melodies. Each song is built upon humble and intimate folk structures. Cricket Spin's live performances consist of six to ten players weaving rock guitars, piano and woodwinds to create a symphony of bipolar pop music.


Our One Day Lives

Written By: Ben Yonda

scratch me, bleed me,
my heart is weak from pumping.
but i'm all alive,
mouth full of lies to live by.
the air holes gasp,
encased in glass and you are,
you are something apart from time,
the partner i've envisioned,
on my only day.

to my everything girl:
"take this shaking hand,
and tonight lie dead as darkness"
to escape this jar at last,
my firefly romance.

oh firefly!
our one days lives are those of prisoners.
awake enclosed,
same world we've always known.
this air has always been the sky.

just stay near me,
these wilted leaves will hide us.
from the second hand,
that its certain path will wander.
the moments slip, the bell jar tips,
and our world pours like water,
and to the night our quiet light surrenders.

Vanishing Point

Written By: Ben Yonda

treat us like the only two,?at the vanishing point of the room.?the orphan asleep to my west,?has firework burns on her neck,?and i'm holding matches, i'm holding matches.??awake me for i'm falling snow,?make this frozen raindrop your new home,?as your hair sets fire to the sky,?lighting our way through the night,?and on 'til the morning,?on 'til the morning.

To Talk Like

Written By: Ben Yonda

you're poison! poison! the mirror's man,
to be chosen, frozen, born again.
the sprout, the seed, can't start clean like me.
to spring from dirty memories,
to make love like broken machines,
but mend me. hold me 'til i'm warm,
like your slender legs across the skin,
this slowly over-thinking means:
"it's a backwards life, it's a first night"
for the finding stranger coming home,
give me your past, give me your voice,
to memorize, to talk like.

and we'll talk like this...

" i followed you to the rooftop,
singing songs that brave men sing
...but ... i don't sing,
and i don't sing,
and i don't sing,
and i don't' sing ... anymore."

in a gilded frame, left unfulfilled,
hung crooked by the window sill,
it's canvas torn, it's warning pours and spills,
the scars from here to june 16th,
the needle and the thread beneath,
where the naked, shaking, aimless orphan lies,
a poet, his prose numb from drink,
composed as an apology,
to the plaintive maiden, lacing up her gown.
collapse ribcage! these weighted breaths,
the weary winds at the window ledge,
where you kiss the bird who's breaking his own wings.

and the bird said...

" i followed you to the rooftop,
singing songs that brave men sing
...but ... i don't sing,
and i don't sing,
and i don't sing,
and i don't' sing ... anymore."


"Cricket Spin" EP 2004
"You Are My Home" LP 2006
"Grains of Salt, Grains of Sand" LP 2007
"Cricket Spin/A Wonderful" Split 7" 2007

Set List

Ghosts on a Summer Night
Last Night Lovers
Treasure Map Mistress
Melanie Wonderful
So So Cinema
Murdering Hug
Our One Days Lives
Falling Down Everything
Sunny Afternoon (The Kinks)
Love it When You Call