1. |
Roussillon Serenade
03:18
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Cabin crew prepare to land.
Customers prepare to stand.
Beckett writes in Roussillon.
Facebook, Twitter, Amazon.
I lost my pen, my pencils’s, where’d they go? I reminisce.
How the fuck am I even writing this?
We could talk, we could we could sit.
People watch the for counterfeits.
Saracens at Roman walls.
Moorish raids on Shopping Malls.
Take it all, take it all. Release us from Cholesterol.
But by god leave our ethanol.
Serenade!
Right back up the Sauerkraut came.
Onto my shoes behind the museum.
And just as Jan predicted it comes as no shocker,
Wine: the ultimate mocker.
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2. |
Oka
02:40
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The removal of the Indian Act is not myth or fiction, it's sobering fact and as real as the notes, the portraits of Jack(son), Standing Rock steady. Yea.
And if you know how Oka fell.
And if you know your history as well. You better hide!
The high soul burns on light men's feet, death for noble cause makes dying sweet.
Oh deliver us, from these sweet evangelists.
Down the tracks, I retraced every previous footstep.
Carbon tax, compassion fail and hipster blood-lets.
I gotta delete these scenes, I'm moved to stares and endless huffing.
Perpetuated gains help retain this mindless suffering.
(It) Makes no difference.
With the removal of these dependencies international relation will see,
A downright boom and cheers galore,
While popcorn kernels they stick to the floor,
Of that battered cinemaplex, where my ethics were flexed.
And if that noble cause still knocks your front door is the sacrifice the same as before? Go!
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3. |
Single Source
03:42
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Flimsy,
Worn out stuff.
The piles of foil. Unthinkable.
Broken, burned and rough.
Through slicks of oil.
“Unsinkable”
Flimsy,
Worn out stuff.
The piles of foil. Unthinkable.
Broken, burned and rough.
Through slicks of oil.
“Unsinkable”
The algorithm has decreed,
The purpose of your life proceeds to be defined by scrolling holes.
To be confined to website polls.
Flimsy,
Worn out stuff.
The piles of foil. Unthinkable.
Broken, burned and rough.
Through slicks of oil.
“Unsinkable”
Flimsy,
Worn out stuff.
The piles of foil. Unthinkable.
Broken, burned and rough.
Through slicks of oil.
“Unsinkable”
The homeless guy at Louis Vuitton.
What the fuck was the manager on?
The more the miserable the staff, the better the beans.
Single source in the Philippines.
But it’s a script, it goes on and on,
The Golan Heights to the Lebanon.
Bruce Springsteen’s got Thunder Road
While down the river the world explodes.
I don’t have the strength to read much more,
The sadness and the loss and the extinction’s swinging door.
I gotta get lessons on how to ignore.
And sear it from my minds eye or laugh away before,
I gotta get lessons, I gotta ignore.
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4. |
Vegetables of History
00:51
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“The people are revolting”,
I couldn’t quite get his meaning.
As in imminent revolution?
Or necessity for cleaning?
Would it mirror those before them? Done before they started.
They silenced the dissenters,
And buried the departed.
My contribution's so vanilla,
As I strive for something more balsamic. From the Bangkok hens served in Manilla, To Tuscan sausage, spiced salamic. They say the weight in national parks, Is nothing to the sheds and cages. While Tongariro’s future’s stark,
The other route’s contagious.
To join the ranks of better souls,
Or vegetables of history.
The abattoirs or netted shoals,
By knife, by gun, by mystery.
But still I while the months,
To be humanities best, brightest, boldest. You clearly were the youngest once, But you’ll never be the oldest.
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5. |
Ungoogleable
03:16
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Greenwashing my own life story and guitar tone. Soundcheck’s at 5.02, I say fuck it - that’ll do. Scroll hole history, our buying habit mystery. Collectively we trod this path.
Now in Vino Veritas.
Jon Lewis Christmas ad,
In Festive knitwear they were clad. They came to rid the world of this plight, Twitters latest Jacobite.
James Cook and Abel Tasman, Zooming in and out on Google Earth, Self-photographs on your phone un-used, The ones you post dictate your worth.
Jan Steen paints at home, Apple Macs and metronomes, Cake news, Korean Tea, future-shocked reality.
Oh bestow to us, a somewhere where these lights wont fuss. Locus amoenus now -
If you hate that website shut it down!
And every day I’m stuck with it,
I try my best to tackle something.
Why does the information come to me like servitude? I want notes or anecdotes ungoogleable for good.
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6. |
Seven Beans
03:37
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I’m tied,
(to) night drives. Thoughtathon, Archives.
This one’s for Baba Budan,
7 beans, through Hindustan.
And this one for Anna Marie, Pompidou the The Uffizi.
People mix and people move,
And others simple disapprove.
But how will your masters discipline you, When we dance beyond their field of view.
Home time, Is futile. Optionless, Lifestyle.
When you get
To customs checks, Holding hands
Hold your breath.
How do we
ignore the deaths?
How are we
so bereft,
Of empathy
for those that flee?
We Arm our borders heavily! But how will our children ratify us,
With excuses so superfluous?
I’m tied,
(to) night drives. Thoughtathon, Archives. Home time, Is futile. Optionless, Lifestyle.
I pulled the van,
Onto the sand,
Just beyond the Rio Grand. Officers with boots and guns, Put their lights on everyone.
It’s just a taste of what is faced, By those who march,
By those displaced,
How will your history eulogise you? Fences, borders, walls all deja vu.
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7. |
Alive
03:23
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Another worse hot water music,
A million bad menzingerses.
Singer song writer Salsalito.
Get vicious with dishes and posts on the GO! Geotagging from famine nations. LIKE! The audience I swear’s Indentured.
Down with the rabble, down down with the rabble.
Hello hello hello hello hello Oh Gold, Oh so Gold Hello hello hello hello hello Silver Salsa
Hello hello hello hello hello Gems just joke and jibe Hello hello hello hello hello Alive.
Cromwell’s Irish in the Union Army
Ancestors behaving badly
Pioneering new use of farming.
Your mothers, your brothers and don’t forget the others In agony I hear my mind say...
“Why did someone have to come up with BAE?” Down with the rabble, down down with the rabble.
Hello hello hello hello hello Oh Gold, Oh so Gold Hello hello hello hello hello Silver Salsa
Hello hello hello hello hello Gems just joke and jibe Hello hello hello hello hello Alive
at all.
Hello hello hello hello hello Oh Gold, Oh so Gold Hello hello hello hello hello Silver Salsa
Hello hello hello hello hello Gems just joke and jibe Hello hello hello hello hello Alive
Hello hello hello hello hello Oh Gold, Oh so Gold Hello hello hello hello hello Silver Salsa
Hello hello hello hello hello Gems just joke and jibe Hello hello hello hello hello Alive
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8. |
Cornelius
02:54
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Like old shoes staring at you from the new ones box, There’s sad sad poetry up this road of rocks.
Like dried up rivers down Arizona way
I saw them look like memories, just like the road today. I see pontoons crumbling where the coffin ships began, to take on the Atlantic drift imagine if you can. Airport food court perusal has been banned.
I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying to stand.
Continental impossible divide. Mendalsohnnstrasse stands proudly as before. I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying some more.
At 7000 feet I saw a stuffed Alaskan bear, It’s 28,000 US bucks for Texan billionaires.
What does it matter? Served on platter? Old news and old ‘mericana
North Carolina shipped out to China, what could be finer?
What could the minor chords play behind the wars, play behind the old Irish melody? A drum beat starts in Congo Square and finds its way to me.
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9. |
Gare
02:19
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Off the train came canny ramblers,
Past pickpockets and thranny gamblers.
We’ve come to blog your masterpieces,
And from the bog our reach increases,
It’s the only place with 3G signal,
The influencer’s stinking vigil.
Perched on Shires and in no way Toto,
Not the warming of Kyoto,
Not the squirting, singing token.
This dunny’s done and the door is broken.
As you sit and shit and refresh google,
Outside lies Hals, Vermeer and “Broogle”
Or is it Brueghel? I pay no mind,
That faffer’s like 400 years behind.
What’s important’s analytics,
Likes and shares and quare statistics.
“This new tune‘s fast and a bit more rocky” Tweets the turfman of Glenstaughey.
“Online gaming in Ecuador”,
Plays the durian giant of Jalan Alor.
“Faso fast fashion’s my fixation”,
Exclaimed the hipster at Lamphong station.
“And I’m digitising the Eureka Rebellion”
Posts a fake profile of Charles Trevelyan.
While my tinkling bloggers are at the Rijksmuseum, Those wrinkling proggers are touring again.
They posted the shows and I liked out of habit, Don’t you know they’re online gramps? Everyone’s at it. Slabbering till their face is purple,
Donny, Boris and Angela Merkel.
While Sum Up, Zettle, Pay Pal and Square,
Is stumping merch monkeys everywhere.
This banking app’s swish said Pinochet.
Yea but they phish your DNA.
This convenient wish that‘s well underway,
Will sicken your pish the following day.
As we head back to the station the snow starts to fall, We apply hesitation, there’s black ice and all.
It’s dark and it’s raw and slippage is likely,
But the art we saw, I’ll think on it nightly.
Amstel, Riga, Bologna, Trieste,
The WIFI at Gaudí’s was easily the best.
And despite my constant looking for sockets.
What these places they give us, no one can knock it. Chelsea boots you with architectural cover,
And Singapore slings you back with another.
And Venice blinds you with it’s emotion,
While Belfast sinks, sinks into the ocean.
I can’t work it out, I thought Venice was sinking? Depends where you stand, depends what you’re drinking. In this confusing lifetime nothing’s surprising,
Is St Mark’s Square sinking or the sea level rising? But I can’t get distracted, there’s ice on this paving Correcting my balance with lunging and waving.
A slip on a cobble and I’m hurtling earthwards,
It starts with wobble and ends up with curse words Bruises, sprains and stains on the ego.
But the thrill of our day trip’s an effective placebo.
We live for the blogging, the art and the travel. Even when we land arse first on the gravel.
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10. |
Solastalgia
03:12
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China Eastern Airline flight,
The silk road just a smudge tonight.
40,000 feet below, 500 miles an hour is slow.
We slide across the sky controlled,
With selfie sticks safe in the hold.
Shanghai Dublin, Holy shit. From Boston Dublin, Wait for it.
It’s solastalgia Just solastalgia It’s solastalgia Just solastalgia
Marco Polo hurts his health
When he wikipees himself.
The headline mix on news sites yuck,
From cats to drone strikes, what the fuck?
Oh - just give our tiny brains some room to breathe, one second please MARCO!
I sat in bar in Kuala Lumpur and the answers turned away from me. Oh no, it’s solastalgia.
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11. |
Turbary
03:13
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I left the petrol station’s shop and in the moonlight had to stop.
I saw something behind the van, the bundle figures turned and ran. I approach the couple nervously, I looked at them they looked at me. Migrant lives in real time, human interactions intertwined.
Aleppo pines and warning shots,
Appalachian Ulster Scots,
Yarnbombing millennials,
Scenes we saw in Jacksonville.
Christian YouTube channel shows that claim you’ll burn in hell for those, decisions that you make today, but I continue making them anyway.
The ghosts of Thiepval on the screen, A year of cold centenaries. Romanov who free’d the serfs? Rights of Turbary cut the earth. Future World events explained, Evangelical’s the game. Foreign correspondents saw, Helpless children break the laws!
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12. |
Fortune
02:43
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I wonder ‘bout the dustiness, Of houses on a hill.
I think of all the waiting lists, I think I’ve had my fill.
I wonder how that carbon works, I worry bout the smell,
I dip my hands in boiling oils, You can have my toes as well.
I’ll give you all thousand bucks, Just to have my money back. Renegotiate a payment plan. I think I have the knack.
And when you think your debt is done, We tally up the rest, I know that you know
Your fortune is sealed.
And I think it’s for the best.
Fortunes favour the brave they say, Fortunes favour the bold, Fortunes favour the brave they say, And fortunes bargained bought and sold.
Skyscrapers and swish office blocks, Looked down at us below. Levantine at night markets. How was I to know?
The tragedy of subtleties Relented back at home. With prejudicial policies Barked out in Baritone.
Fortunes favour the brave they say, Fortunes favour the bold, Fortunes favor the brave they say And fortunes bargained bought and sold
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13. |
Espionage
03:04
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She said “on this my peninsula there’s limited space for ingesting a, a loving family of three” And it’s not the way for me.
So I joined intelligencia, espionage in Valencia. With a bucket of beer and a ball, God loves an activist on call.
It’s shoeless shoegaze in old tombs. Thousands of lives were lost in these rooms. And meals that tour bestowed?
Gut problems at the side of the road.
Like lichen loggers blogging from green party bus top,
The timetables 2 degrees.
It read 51% percent of emissions on the patches of your dungarees.
Those Scandinavian bins filled with soil. We’re packing permaculture in the coffee spoils. “It’s not the way I know,
So, it won’t be the way we go.”
Like Lichen landing from a sanding bench in Oslo.
In 1903, the timber found its way to a farmyard before it found its way to me.
She said on this my peninsula, just let that wisdom comfort ya,
but down in the dumps again is where we find her with her trembling friends. It’s not the way I know, It won’t be the way we go.
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14. |
There are Bands
05:11
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There are bands,
With explosive comic timing, you have to laugh away the fact we now call art and lyrics content, there are bands.
There are bands, there are so called album cycles. There’s a toilet bowl for every song and every city’s Eiffel There are bands.
A wash of white lights wake
Us from our small talk.
A palpable intake, back and back and back the crowd stalks. How do we prepare for this, constantly reminisce?
Or shoulder what we so patiently create?
I know there’s another way, oh topical stowaway in reverie.
A beat starts from upstage, down to the crowd side.
A comparable concrete, power than fills the roads and curb sides. How do we think separate?
And try to differentiate
Two scenes that make two activists of us.
I know there’s another way, oh topical stowaway in reverie. I know there’s another way, oh topical stowaway.
Oh topical stowaway in reverie.
Cuba Street,
Khao San Road, Batu Caves,
Place Bordeaux Inishark
Mella Souk
Las Ramblas
The Straits of Cook Bourbon Street Hackney Downs Oberkampf Darwin Sound Baton Rouge
Burj Kalif Changing now with belief!
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