THANK YOU for supporting this new album. It could not have been done without your help. And while we are all in this together, a few of us - me, Steve James and the “Dream Team” - have actually been though The Best of Times – not one bad vibe in any of the recording sessions! NOT one single ONE! However, many of us have had to endure The Worst of Times – yes – the collapse of PledgeMusic.com and all the subsequent outrage and heartache. But we have got this far, and hopefully now there can be good times for all. These songs are meant to be shared – as music is meant to be shared. Please visit the special website for further “Victim Advice”, Individual Credits, Lyrics, Gossip and Happy Snaps. Thank you ALL!
Tony got the bug for bashing things aged about 15. Since then he has played with Big Bands, Jazz Orchestras, Hip Hop, Funk, Rock, Soul, Blues – even Folk! He is versatile! He is tireless. He has toured Australia, USA and Canada, collaborated with a wide variety of musicians and
recorded with many top producers – including Steve James. All of which have made him the Master Craftsman he is today – a King of Feel and a Tower of Timekeeping. An absolute pleasure to work with in the studio – a great guy who knows his stuff!
Malcolm was the backbone of the Rutles second album, “Archaeology” – another inspired choice by Steve James. When Malcolm saw my vintage Gibson bass – fell in love with it - and made it sing! He has “been around the block” with the Pretenders and Simple Minds – to name but two rather top combos - and contributed to many a hit session. He is a musician’s musician and (under the watchful eye of Carolyn) makes a mean watermelon, feta and toasted pumpkin seed salad. He now lives with Carolyn in New Zealand.
Warwick is Steve James’ “go to” guitarist. And what a joy he is to work with! A man who truly understands “less is more”, clean as a whistle, sublime tones and a sense of humor!
After the briefest of conversations about guitars - and “styles” – there he was, slipping in delightful surprises and ticking the box on every track. What is so wonderful about his playing is that you want to hear it again – and again. A true genius – it’s just a shame that he wears the most appalling socks.
Bostjan is Slovenian. He lives in the most musical city in the world, Ljubljana – which no one can spell without looking it up – but everyone should visit. I first met Bostjan more than 10 years ago when he was part of an excellent quartet of musicians called “Terrafolk”. He left the group to finish his classical studies on clarinet. He is a concert soloist, a virtuoso, he can do Circular Breathing – i.e. play a note for about 20 minutes or until someone shoots him. He can also play any tube or piece of plumbing you can blow into. He is inspiring! Thanks to Peter Uhan for the great pic!
Ashley is one half of a duo called “Rag Mama Rag”. They are English but live in France, about an hour away from me. We are neighbours. I was in Cahors market when I heard some very “tidy” slide guitar wafting across street from the Vinyl and CD stall. I really thought it was John Lee Hooker. I asked the man who it was – he said Rag Mama Rag, they were English and local. I bought the CD and later sent an email to say how much I enjoyed it. When Ashley replied, it turned out he had sold me a banjo in Ipswich – back in the ‘80s…
Debbie is the other half of the duo – in fact it was her banjo Ash sold me! Debbie now plays washboard and harmonica to Ashley’s stomping slide guitar – and blues hollering. When I first saw them live I immediately wanted them to play on a couple of my new songs. I have always loved “roots” music and when it is played really well I find it irresistible! Alors, when Steve James came over to France last September with some posh microphones, Ashley and Debbie dropped by and we recorded them in my little home studio. Simples.
Sela was born in Tonga, grew up in New Zealand and now lives in Brisbane. Lucky for us! Not since the Innes Book of Records have I had the luxury of working with “backing singers”. Some of the songs were crying out for the “20 Feet from Stardom” treatment. Tony McCall had heard of Sela and put us in touch. She has a fabulous voice, quite distinct from “hard” Motown Soul or US Country “flat” singing – her voice has a quality all of her own – strong, tender, perfect pitch, her harmonies are so natural and so right for these songs. Pure joy.
And just when we felt we had used up all our fair share of good luck, these three guys walked in. Because of our limited budget, we had tried all sorts of brass “sounds” on various “synths” but they were not convincing. Again, Tony McCall had heard of some local brass players who gigged together regularly. We tracked them down not knowing what to expect. They were/are superb! And their combined ages are still younger than me! Such cool guys – humor too – the icing on the cake! The photo may not be the best – but the fun certainly is!
Steve is the chief architect on the “Dream Team”. He and I have been in and out of touch over the years since the Rutles: “All You Need is Cash” - the “Innes Book of Records” - and the second Rutle album: “Archaeology” – largely because he moved to Australia and the Time Zone stuff is unfathomable. But as the idea of doing a new album – in a studio, with good people – began to take shape I just knew I had to get us together again for this project. We’ve always enjoyed a “shorthand” understanding when recording – we seem to hear the same things at the same time – and we watch each other’s backs. We have really interesting backs – no – I jest – we make a good team and we immediately found we were happy to be in harness together – do I mean that? What do you think I mean? Enough! Just listen to the songs and the really clever bastard recording!
I used to think I could think things through
Now any notion I fancy will do
My Life times False is divided by True
Old Age becomes me
So many memories to recall
Good times, bad times, big and small
Now like New England, after the Fall
Old Age becomes me
The Sycamores and Willows
Stand tall down by the stream
My blanket is a Jacaranda Blue
Among my extra pillows
I still know how to dream
Some day I’m gonna run away with you
I know Life is much more than
My limited Attention Span
Now all I do is all I can
Old Age becomes me
Across the Universe is
Where all of us must go
Sooner or later, by and by
But what is far, far worse is
All those people in the know
Who claim they can explain the Reasons why
I’ve had my fill of all the Ballyhoo
Enough of Soft Shoe Shuffler too
And as for the Young and Beautiful…
Well, you know what they can do!
Old Age becomes me…
Track Notes:
I’ve reached that certain age where it’s almost impossible not to have done quite a lot. I wrote this song for my 65th birthday – inspired by a newly acquired (now my favorite) ukulele. 10 years later, it’s even more poignant. Funny how the longer you live, the older you get. It’s the kind of song they used to play on the radio – when I was a child…
Said the Broth of a Boy to a Slip of a Girl
You are the Flowers, the Forest
and the Birds that sing
But how can I ask you to marry me?
When I have no Gold for a Wedding Ring?
And she said:
Though you say all God’s gifts are in me
I cannot give myself to you
Your words of love bring me no comfort
Said the Slip of a Girl to the Broth of a Boy
And she turned he head away
And made no sound
As the Stars shone down
All the Stars shone down
On the Slip of a Girl
And the Broth of a Boy…
Said the Broth of a Boy to a Slip of a Girl
You are the Flowers, the Forest
and the Birds that sing
I will sail the Seven seas and seek my Fortune
When I return I’ll give you Everything
And she said:
“Though you say all God’s gifts are in me
I cannot give myself to you
Your words of love bring me no comfort”
Said the Slip of a Girl to the Broth of a Boy
Once more she turned away
And made no sound
As the Stars shone down
All the Stars shone down
On the Slip of a Girl
And the Broth of a Boy…
Said the Broth of a Boy to a Slip of a Girl
Though you say you cannot be my wife
You are still the Flowers, the Forest
And the Birds that sing
I will love no other for the rest of my life
And she said:
“Though you say all God’s gifts are in me
Now I can give myself to you
Love has no need for Gold nor Silver”
Said the Slip of a Girl to the Broth of a Boy
And as he took her hand
All the Stars shone down
All the Stars shone down
All the Stars shone down
On the Slip of a Girl
And the Broth of a Boy
On the Slip of a Girl
And the Broth of a Boy…
Track Notes:
A Ballad, traditionally, is a Song with a Story and if the story is “romantic’, then it’s a Romantic Ballad. A traditional “Boy meets Girl” love song, “Folk Song” was written in the 20th Century. I have no idea why it’s taken so long to record it properly – but, as always, it’s thanks to Danny Barbour – keeping copies – that the original demos were not lost!
”Whatever is in your mind they call:
“Psychological”
But what about Love?
Don’t say it’s just all
“Biological”
I don’t know what to think
Throw in the Kitchen Sink
I’m losing my mind because of You
You and your Different Ways
Are part of these desperate days
What is it that makes me so crazy
For you? For you…
And your Different Ways
Your Different Ways…
There’s got to be something deep inside
People never share
Maybe we’ve all got something to hide
Yeah, like how much we care?
Life’s University
Has no Diversity
It’s all about Me and not about You!
You and your Different Ways
Are part of these desperate days
What is it that makes me so crazy
For you? For you…
And your Different Ways
Your Different Ways…
” Whatever is in your mind they call:
“Psychological”
But what about Love?
Don’t say it’s just all
“Biological”
Maybe Humanity
Has never known Sanity
You and your Different Ways
Are part of these desperate days
What is it that makes me so crazy
For you? For you…
And your Different Ways
Your Different Ways…
Yes, you and your Different Ways
Are part of these desperate days
What is it that makes me so crazy
For you? For you…
And your Different Ways
Your Different Ways…
Different Ways…
Different Ways…
Different Ways…
Track Notes:
Written around the same time as “Folk Song”, it was Steve James who pounced on this one – because of the chord changes. The original lyrics were a bit “meh” and I wasn’t sure – but the track came together well and so I started re-working the lyrics. Now I think they make more sense – in a kind of You and Me sense – a You is just another Me – who isn’t You? Sense?
Surly in the mornin’
I am a Man among Men [x 2]
Honey please forgive me
I’m hungover and horny again
Last night I was alone
With all my troubles and my cares [x 2]
Honey I bought each and every one of them a drink
They’ve been my only friends for years and years
They say there was an Age of Enlightenment
Back in the Somethin’ Century
But somehow all that Truth and Wisdom
Did not rub off on me
Surly in the mornin’
Black Dog howlin’ in ma head [x2]
Honey you know I ain’t no Boy Scout
But there’s a Tent Pole in our bed…
Apart from Plato and A. A. Milne
Who have we poor boys got to thank?
Where was Socrates and Winnie the Pooh
When the page was blank?
A man can find it hard Babe
Every once in a while [x2]
Baby won’t you please roll over
And show me your smile?
Track Notes:
After about 5 years of playing my Roland stage piano, I got curious about some of the buttons I had never used. In particular, the button marked “Voice”. Huh, a naff “choir” – but there were 4 variations! Variation 4 was “Doo Wap”! And I had to have it! The song took about 2 hours to write. This track was recorded live, in the Plough, Southampton – on tour with the Idiot Bastard Band…
I dunno what anybody’s sayin’ anymore
Everybody’s talkin’ but I heard it all before
I’ve seen it in the Papers
and I’ve watched it on TV
Words are gonna beat the livin’ daylights outa me.
But there’s Somethin’ to be said
for havin’ Somethin’ to say
Each modest opinion and dogma has it’s day
Every quip, every quote, every witty anecdote
There’s Somethin’ to be said
for havin’ Somethin’ to say.
I’ve never understood why Truth
has such a price to pay
Sayin’ what you mean is not like
meanin’ what you say
Remember that the more you know
the less you understand
And every word you say is like
a footprint in the sand.
But there’s Somethin’ to be said
for havin’ Somethin’ to say
Each modest opinion and dogma has it’s day
Every Sentimental Verse,
every Compliment or Curse
There’s Somethin’ to be said
for havin’ Somethin’ to say.
So, come on Everybody!
Let the Working Classes…
and the Middle Classes…
and the Upper Classes…
and the Master Classes…
and any other kind of Classes…
let all the Classes…
Chatter…
Let their heads get fatter…
Their words won’t matter…
When the Treeeeeeeeeeee…
Falls…
The Monkeys scatter…
Well it looks like it’s all down to
the Survival of the Strong
Nothin’ is all Right, and Nothin’ is all Wrong
Remember when your dreams go down
the Universal Drain
The Best Things in Life are
the things you can’t explain.
And yet…
There’s Somethin’ to be said for havin’ Somethin’ to say
Each modest opinion and dogma has it’s day
Bitter-Sweet, Bad or Good,
Overstated, Understood
There’s Somethin’ to be said
for havin’ Somethin’ to say.
So why not go ahead and say it – anyway?
Track Notes:
I have always been fascinated by words. “Slippery little customers” Vivian Stanshall used to call them, and I agree. Words don’t care about anything. They are just as happy making nonsense as they are making sense. Or, as Mark Twain observed: “It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that ain’t so.”
Sociologists all agree
The unacceptable face
Of Positive Psychology
Is in the Corporate Workplace
Oh-oh, Mumbo Jumbo is Everywhere
Oh-oh, Belief Systems are in the air…
Oh-oh, and Blue-Sky Thinking
Is neither Here nor There
And you know, I so, don’t care.
I so don’t care.
Some Politicians say
The Government should do more
Others say it should do less
But none of them know for sure
Oh-oh, Total Bollocks is Everywhere
Oh-oh, Belief Systems are in the air…
Oh-oh, and Naming and Shaming
Is neither Here nor There
And you know, I so, don’t care.
I so don’t care.
I so don’t care…
I can still remember,
I can still recall,
Groping for the Truth
Up against a wall,
How I fell in love with Freedom
But when all is Said and Done
It’s a Far Cry from Anything
You can put your
Finger on…
Chocolate Biscuits are nibbly
Sometimes Coffee is hot
People are smelly and dribbly
But like to pretend they’re not
Oh-oh, Hypocrisy is Everywhere
Oh-oh, Belief Systems are in the air…
Oh-oh, and Google Spiders
are neither Here nor There
And you know, I so, don’t care.
I so don’t care.
I so don’t care.
I SO DON’T CARE.
Track Notes:
Melbourne Comedy Festival, 2003. Pubs with tables on the pavement. Noisy fun everywhere. I overheard a “Sheila” exclaiming from a table down the street: “You know? I SO don’t care!” Somehow, I knew I’d have to write a song with THAT same sentiment. I immediately snapped into action and last year – I managed to finish it. 15 years later. Well, I SO don’t care!
I know, what I know,
You know, what you know.
I see, what I see,
You see, what you see.
We see the World from where we stand
We build our Castles in the Sand.
So, let the Signs of the Zodiac
Tell us what’s going on
All we know is that we don’t know
Like Father, like Son.
I do, what I do,
You do, what you do.
I say, what I say,
You say, what you say.
We say whatever comes to Mind
We speak whatever Truth we find.
So, let the Signs of the Zodiac
Tell us what’s going on
All we know is that we don’t know
Like Father, like Son.
Some say we are the Stuff of Stars
But how on Earth can we be them?
Spinning around, as we do, on a ball…
The Stars are always there
Sometimes you just can’t see them
We are, Flesh and Blood, after all…
I feel, what I feel,
You feel, what you feel.
I think, what I think,
You think, what you think.
We never thought of growing old
We never did as we were told.
So, let the Signs of the Zodiac
Tell us what’s going on
All we know is that we don’t know
Like Father, like Son.
So, let the Signs of the Zodiac
Tell us what’s to be done
All we know is that we don’t know
Like Father, like Son.
Like Father, like Son.
Like Father, like Son.
Like Father, like Son.
Track Notes:
This was half a song 35 years ago – I always wanted to “do something” with it – but what? Favorite Ukulele to the rescue! Fiddling about, finger-picking – this riff appeared – but it was still only half a song. Then the “Bridge” came to me – my son Luke had bought a beautiful birthday present for his mum – a chunky metal strip with these words cut out: “The Stars are always there, sometimes you just can’t see them…”
Raindrops pitter patter,
Runnin’ down your window
Heaven knows it’s oh so cold outside
How could I ever think of walkin’ out that door?
As if I didn’t need your love, anymore
Up above the clouds
The sun is always shining
Or so they say you know I’m really not that sure
How could I ever think of walkin’ out that door?
As if I didn’t need your love, anymore
Well I know sometimes I’ve treated you so badly
And I’m sorry if I caused you any pain
But you know me by now that’s how I love you
Just as true as you know cats don’t like the rain
Listen to the four winds blow
I know you think I’m sleepin’
I love the way you touch me tenderly
How could I ever think of walkin’ out that door?
As if I didn’t need your love, anymore
Don’t misunderstand me
How can I explain?
Just remember cats don’t like the rain
Just remember cats don’t like the rain.
Track Notes:
Another almost forgotten one! First performed with Andy Roberts at the Edinburgh Festival, part of an Alice in Wonderland spoof called: “More Jam Tomorrow”. A few years ago, I did a charity gig with local Suffolk legends “Wild Oats”. Singer Willie Brown [great voice!] loved it and wanted to record it. I thought I should too… with Ashley Dow on Hawaiian Lap Steel…
I hated my first cigarette,
I ask you, how dumb can you get?
I thought I was so nonchalant,
But now it’s the last thing I want…
I’m chewing my nails,
I’m having all kinds of Withdrawal Symptoms…
If only I’d never begun,
Why wasn’t I told when I was young?
Give it up, give it up,
Give it up, give it up.
I thought I was smart,
I thought I was grown-up and King of the Castle…
If only I’d never begun,
Why wasn’t I told when I was young?
Give it up, give it up,
Give it up, give it up.
Got to give it up and set my body free,
Got to give it up because this stuff is
Killing me,
Killing me…
I’m finding it hard,
This habit I’m kicking is struggling back…
The stupidest thing I’ve ever done,
Why wasn’t I told when I was young?
Give it up, give it up,
Give it up, give it up,
Give it up, give it up,
Give it up, give it up,
I hated my first cigarette,
I ask you, how dumb can you get?
I thought I was so nonchalant,
But now it’s the last thing I want…
Track Notes:
Addiction is not a welcome Human quality, but it happens, and we have to live with it, more so when we try to give something up. I first sang this song “live” on BBC Breakfast Time – twice – it was National No Smoking Week and I was interviewed by both Frank Bough and Selena Scott. It was so stressful, when I got home I started smoking again. I LOVE the trombone on this track!
Truth – is Illusion,
Ideas in the Mind,
Jumping to conclusions
Seeing, is Believing,
Ideas in the Mind
Can be so deceiving
As Time, goes by
And the Seasons change I cry;
I’m Disillusioned, Disillusioned,
My eyes no longer pay tricks on me.
I’m Disillusioned, Disillusioned,
And the more I look the less I see.
When I was a little boy
My eyes were open wide
Sometimes I was enchanted
Other times just mystified
But now those days are gone
It’s worth remembering
In the Land of the Blind
The one-eyed man is King
He leads the Dance
“Honi soit qui mal y pense”
I’m Disillusioned, Disillusioned,
My eyes no longer pay tricks on me.
I’m Disillusioned, Disillusioned,
And the more I look the less I see.
Right now, the more I look
The less I wanna see,
And the Truth is all
That it appears to be.
If sheep and crows can share a field
With all the worms beneath
Then surely there’s no need
For sewing Dragon’s Teeth?
The Neo-Right, the Neo-Left
The Neo-In-Between
The Neo-Happy-Clappy
With their Neo-Tambourines
May seize the day
But the Truth won’t go away.
I’m Disillusioned, Disillusioned,
My eyes no longer pay tricks on me.
I’m Disillusioned, Disillusioned,
And the more I look the less I see.
Right now, the more I look
The less I wanna see,
And the Truth is all
That it appears to be.
Oh yeah, the more I look
The less I wanna see,
And the Truth is all
That it appears to be.
The Truth is all
That it appears to be.
Track Notes:
“I saw it with my own eyes!” exclaims the Witness. But how can someone believe their own eyes in this day and age when the quickness of the mouse deceives the photoshop? Is Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder – or the Air Brush? How can anyone be sure of anything when Reality is tapping in a password our brains can’t remember? Is Illusion Disposal a good thing?
It’s the same old chicken
And the same old egg
The Bankers bank
And the Beggars beg
While History
Repeats itself
And Dreamers dream
Of a Commonwealth
And Thinkers think
Of a How and Why
Among the What and When and Where
A Who is Who of Nobody goes by…
The Filthy Rich (Who do they think they are?)
Don’t have a lot
In common with
The Dirt Poor
What are they good for?
The Filthy Rich (Who do they think they are?)
Don’t have a clue
Why people like
The Dirt Poor
Do what they do
On their hands and knees
Come rain or shine
Heaven only knows
What they hope to find
As they dig their dirt-poor fingers
Into heaps of stinking waste
The misery of Opulence
Is equal to the squalor of good taste
(Who do they think they are? Who?)
In our heart of hearts
And our Monkey Brains
We know this Status Quo
Cannot be maintained
Without the Jealousy and Greed
Every one of us seems to need
Without the Selfishness and Hate
That we all find so innate
It’s the same old story
No one understands
So remember whoever you are
Whatever you do please don’t forget
To wash you hands…
(Who do they think they are? Who?)
Track Notes:
Back in the ‘60’s, many moons ago, the word on the street was as powerful as any Headline. The slogan of the Young was: “Make Love Not War”. Pretty girls slipped flowers down the barrels of rifles held stiffly by soldiers – only obeying orders. Nowadays we have even more conflicts. Inequality and Climate Change should be at the top of our list. We urgently need to “Make Sense Not Money”.
“Confrontation” is not my style
When it comes to expressing a Point of View
Oh, I freely admit I’d rather run a mile
Than talk to a man, who’s gotta do
What a man’s gotta do. Because…
A man can Think and a man can Feel
But when one man’s “Fake” is another man’s “Real”
One man’s “Right” is another man’s “Wrong”
And when Push comes to Shove I go into ma Song
And Dance…
With ma Soft Shoe Shuffle and ma Jazz Hands
With ma Eyes an’ Teeth like a Happy Guy
I can slip ma way across the Badlands
“So long,” (Big Smile), “Bye-bye.”
Now, sometimes a man is born to be wild
An’ sometimes a man is Nobody’s Child
Huffin’ his Puff, all Tattooed an’ Big,
Draggin’ his knuckles an’ showin’ his Ig –
– norance… (Oh look out!)
With ma Soft Shoe Shuffle and ma Jazz Hands
With ma Eyes an’ Teeth like a Happy Guy
I can skip ma way across the Badlands
“So long,” (Big Smile), “Bye-bye.”
We can be Heroes, we can be Jerks,
We can all still pretend that Democracy works
But from Six Feet Under? Pushin’ up Daisies?
You won’t find me talkin’ Sane to Crazy
No chance!
With ma Soft Shoe Shuffle and ma Jazz Hands
With ma Eyes an’ Teeth like a Happy Guy
I can dance ma way across the Badlands
“So long,” (Big Smile), “Bye-bye.”
With ma Soft Shoe Shuffle and ma Jazz Hands
With ma Eyes an’ Teeth like a Happy Guy
I can dance ma way across the Badlands
“So long,” (Big Smile), “Bye-bye.”
Track Notes:
“Fake News” is “Deplorable”. So too, is the Rise of the Rabble – not to mention Intolerance and Tribal Hate. The business model of Mainstream Media is the relentless repetition of anything Sensational that promotes Anger and Fear. That we live in troubled and dangerous times is beyond doubt. So why not sing along with me? Great solos from Warwick and Tristan!
Little Children hard at play
Share your laughter while you may
All too soon there will come a day
Mother Nature will have her say
Mother Nature is the Law
Giving less and taking more
As you grow older just because
Of Mother Nature and what she does
Little Children while you grow
There are things you will never know
Stars above you could be below
So take care now, mind how you go
Mother Nature is the Law
Giving less and taking more
As you grow older just because
Of Mother Nature and what she does
Little Children not so fast
Take your Time now and make it last
Don’t be sorry or downcast
When your Future becomes your Past
Mother Nature is the Law
Giving less and taking more
As you grow older just because
Of Mother Nature and what she does
Track Notes:
This is another new song – I wrote it with my grandchildren in mind, but it is for children of all ages, everywhere. Becoming a grandparent is really rather special. Complete strangers tell you things like: “A Grandchild is the reward you get for not killing your own children” – or “Grandchildren get on so well with their Grandparents because they share a Common Enemy…”
Last night as I lay sleepless on my bed,
I was aware of Voices in my Head,
I heard my Body talkin’ to my Soul,
And I began to feel, my blood run cold…
My Soul said, “I must soon be on my way.”
“Farewell old friend,” I heard my Body say,
“It’s been good to know you all these years…”
And I could tell their eyes were close to tears.
My Body said, “My Time is almost done.”
My Soul said, “That’s when I’ll be up and gone.”
“Where will you go? Is there another side?”
“Nobody knows for sure,” my Soul replied.
Alone in Darkness, I lay wide awake.
I was a worried man, make no mistake.
Which one of Me would be the first to go?
Which one of Me would be the last to know?
No one is ever truly in control.
No Body ever satisfied a Soul.
“You know I’d take you with me, if I could?”
My Body hugged my Soul… and understood.
Track Notes:
I’m sure I’m not alone in wondering about what comes next, you know, after we’ve done the Russian Doll thing – Baby – Toddler – Schoolkid – Teenager – Lover – Parent – Grandparent – once we have finally achieved what Benjamin Franklyn described as “The Prime of Senility’ – what then? I like the idea that all our molecules decide to be something else – like a Tangerine.
Ash to ash and dust to dust
The World has been around
Four Thousand Million years
When all the Guns and Tanks have turned to rust
Then people will no longer live in fear
They’ll live as one
Under the Sun
They’ll sing the song
Of the Sky…
I am the light of a new day they call me tomorrow
I see the shadows of night skip away from me
I touch the eyes of the World with a hope for the future
I am the Spirit of Life in all Humanity
I ask the question for what it is worth
Is there Intelligent Life on this Earth?
The bigger the people the harder they fall
Ain’t it a shame that the Brain is so very small…
People come and people go
And life on earth goes on as once upon a time
When people learn to share the things they know
Then there will be no need for Punishment or Crime
They’ll live as one
Under the Sun
They’ll sing the song
Of the Sky…
I am the light of a new day they call me tomorrow
I see the shadows of night skip away from me
I touch the eyes of the World with a hope for the future
I am the Spirit of Life in all Humanity
I see the children with so much to learn
I see the people with money to burn
I see the people with nothing at all
Ain’t it a shame that the brain is so very small…
I am the light of a new day they call me tomorrow
I see the shadows of night skip away from me
I touch the eyes of the World with a hope for the future
I am the Spirit of Life in all Humanity
I am the light of a new day they call me tomorrow
I see the shadows of night skip away from me
I touch the eyes of the World with a hope for the future
I am the Spirit of Life in all Humanity
This is the song
This is the song
This is the song of the sky…
This is the song
This is the song
This is the song of the sky…
Track Notes:
Artificial Intelligence anyone? Is there any kind of Intelligent Life on Earth? Mankind is making a muck of it. Human Pollution is out of control. Maybe the planet is simply fighting back, trying to rid itself of a parasite, a nasty, vicious species of Ape, SO stupid it is trying to kill off its host? Ah, but then again, when you hear Bostjan play the Penny Whistle, maybe the Sky can sing…
I don’t mind just sitting here
All by myself
By myself is all I need for now
All I need to know
Is in my memory
All I need to understand is how
Can anyone feel so alone
They don’t know what to think?
If I knew I’d tell you
In a heartbeat
In a blink
So here am I, and where are you?
And what if I should say to you
My heart would break if ever you
Should leave me?
Just sitting here
All by myself
Just sitting here…
Track notes:
Of all the songs on “Nearly Really”, this one is the most recent. We recorded it on the Yamaha C3 in my living room last September when Steve came over to France to help me assemble the album. Pianos are never the same, even if they are made by the same people, they all have different tones and actions. I chose this one from about six others. It is my friend. It helped me write this song.
01. Call your bank and ask for a debit or credit card chargeback. Make sure you have transaction ID and date ready before you call. This makes it easy for the person at the bank. It´s amazing how cooperative people are when you save them trawling through records.
02. Call your bank and ask for a debit or credit card chargeback. Make sure you transaction ID and date ready before you call. This makes it easy for the person at the bank. It´s amazing how cooperative people are when you save them trawling through records.
03. Bank will ask you for all correspondence. Have that ready to roll...
04. Call your bank and ask for a debit or credit card chargeback. Make sure you transaction ID and date ready before you call. This makes it easy for the.
877 people pledged on average £30. From a total of £26,000 only £3000 has ever been paid.
Pledge have effectively stolen £23,000
Big Thanks to:
Kiera McCall for the photographs, Yvonne Innes for managing the mountains
of crowd funding data, see names below. Horace Panter of The Specials –
for his immense generosity and the Greek chicken place down the road for
many a good takeaway lunch!
Red Engine Studios, Kiera McCall Photography , Steve James – Producer/Engineer, Matthew Gray Mastering, Peter Uhan.
Artwork Design by Luke Innes
Website by Devstars
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And last but certainly not least:
The Warm But Insecure Untidy Crowd “Choir”
