Creativity Nativity Scene – Sometimes We Arrive At The Short Fall

Music has a way of finding us in our darkest moments, and Sometimes We Arrive At The Short Fall by Creativity Nativity Scene is proof of that. Created by Adam Lloyd Davis from his home in Perth, Australia, this EP isn’t just music—it’s a journey, a testament to resilience, and a love letter to the Wild West.

Davis, bedridden for years due to an unknown illness, found solace in music, composing through various apps on his iPhone. What could have been a limitation instead became his signature, giving his work an intimacy and raw creativity that sets him apart. With this EP, Davis takes us on a ride through haunting landscapes, sun-drenched plains, and hopeful horizons, capturing a lighter, more reflective tone than his past releases.

The EP opens with “A Son is Born”, a track that instantly envelops you in a cinematic soundscape. There’s something deeply spiritual about it—like stepping into a Western film where fate and faith collide. The layered melodies and sweeping instrumentation make it a standout, reflecting Davis’s ability to create vast sonic spaces from the most minimal of tools.

Then comes “The Prophet”, a track that carries a sense of urgency. Inspired by legendary composer Ennio Morricone, Davis weaves a melody that feels both ancient and timeless. There’s a storytelling quality here, a sense of movement, as if the song itself is galloping toward some inevitable destiny. This is where Davis’s love for the Wild West shines most clearly, evoking images of lone riders and endless desert skies.

If Sometimes We Arrive At The Short Fall has a heart, it beats strongest in “Ride Till Nightfall”. There’s an optimism in this track that sets it apart from Davis’s previous works. It feels like an invitation—to keep moving, to push forward, even when the journey is uncertain. The rhythms roll like wagon wheels over dusty roads, carrying a melody that lingers long after the song ends.

The production, entirely done through mobile apps, is nothing short of remarkable. While some might expect a digital sterility from such a process, Davis achieves the opposite: warmth, depth, and a handcrafted feel that gives the album its unique charm. It’s a reminder that great music isn’t about expensive studios or elaborate setups—it’s about emotion, creativity, and the stories we tell.

Lyrically, though much of the album leans on instrumentals and atmospheric storytelling, there’s an unspoken narrative throughout—one of struggle, perseverance, and transformation. This EP, compared to Davis’s previous work like Mobile Homes & Remote Villages, feels lighter, as if the storm has passed, leaving behind a calm but thoughtful reflection.

In the end, Sometimes We Arrive At The Short Fall isn’t just an album—it’s an experience. It’s music born from adversity, shaped by solitude, and delivered with a rare authenticity. Davis doesn’t just compose; he paints landscapes with sound, inviting us to step into his world for a while. And once you do, you won’t want to leave.