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| 1. |
| 1:56 | 
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I'm feeling flirty
Must be you heard me My knee is hurty I'm nearing thirty I'm taken to task evade Distractions fill up my nights "Look at the Cakes I made" I sing through a pair of stretched tights Continuing down the page The queen of Haverstock Hill Onto a marble stage Arrives and tells us about the Cassettes and catgut A squealing sackbut I toast a pine nut And serve it in my hut Downstairs they're playing trance again That awful bendy guitar Up through the floor again It's 9 AM 'til I cry And Time And A Word, my friend Inspires me more than guitars Playing in four that end Exactly how they began Six months without an argument A girl with tresses like yours Is what I always meant I should have done this before The second or third attempt At making somebody mine Seems to have worked for now I think I'm going to be fine |
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| 2. |
| 7:12 |
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Thinking back to when I asked Naomi out
Sitting around in a wooden classroom Planning my line with a friend from Cornwall Hiding my erection with a book by Morrish Misread smiles and summer promise Intervening love between the years Has made me understand I'm glad Naomi turned me down Soon will be the day you take my kingdom out Panic at dawn on the Northcliffe prospect You were a western biplane Dropping bits of speaker on a textured runway Teeth and death and bower feathers If you want to book the band Be sure to hear their album first Or else you might upset your Shoreditch caterie I live above a shop I go downstairs and let the kitten out She nearly knocks the box |
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| 3. |
| 1:08 | 
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| 4. |
| 1:39 |
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I used to drive for a living, hairy arms fed the wheel thorough my palms
Twitching feet made patterns on pedals, reflexes honed in a twice-failed test The pay man Lance kept me elastic bound in the echelons of West One Slim chance of the odd long journey kept me clinging to him for too long Locked in a car all day, came home and worked on Children At Play I had no deal then, but I had fifty blank tapes in a bag waiting I knew it wouldn't be long before I wrote Carbon Cones Only last week, I noticed that the colours of the Lights in my studio are the same as the ones you conjure in my mind (Yellow and green, green pea green, cherry red and red and blue) When my Amiga reads from a disk you know the Green fills the room and your long summer dress fills my mind My other jobs were none to speak of: "Make a coffee for the man in Avid One Drop these lunches off then take this Betacam to a place on Dean Street" Most posts seemed to involve the lifting of heavy boxes A man of such small frame as I broke into several sweats a day Whilst failing to procure even the hint of any musculature improvement Heavy-lifting days are in the bin now, but I still dip into tempting Wearing the odd suit, attending the odd interview Subsidising the drum programming you hear today Only last week, I noticed that the colours of the Lights in my studio are the same as the ones you conjure in my mind (Yellow and green, green pea green, cherry red and red and blue) Just yesterday I was woken by a flashing of a Light from my studio confirming that this timestretch was complete Only last week, I noticed that the colours of the Lights in my studio are the same as the ones you conjure in my mind |
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| 5. |
| 2:50 |
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Six seconds in your company makes me feel upset
that I've only known you for six seconds yet Every minute we haven't spent together all of the hours we are going to will come marching towards me in swathes Hey, ah! There you are; play the piano in this next bar... With a blow of an eastern breeze on a flag of your face unfurled I collide with you in this heat under blanket of borrowed blue Splitting silence with every smile even ammonites hear us sing and a rail on an outside road rusting over with us in here We shall settle a stack of woes with affectionate angled arms Will you lead me across this room as we knock other couples pell-mell? Promenade to a sweet dischord In a London before the flood to another an early fade Nine behind us and three in front |
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| 6. |
| 3:26 |
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Spitting blood in a sink in a German hotel bathroom
A wet clot of red gum juice, souvenir of wisdom's ration Rinsing face, drying hair, humming "Oh Engineer" by the brothers Larcombe Thinking of the bands I never got a chance to spend my cash on Che and his Caballero chucked it in when I said I liked them Now I'll never catch them in a smoky room on Highbury Corner I shall weep for them another day because I'm at the fulcrum Of the Voodoo graveyard see-saw and I'm not the only mourner What do we do when our friends split up? Five little sevens then belly up There's no more ash, no more soda pop Why did those five have to make it stop? At least we have Storm And Stress to show for the DC Implosion Mushrooms grown on an upstairs Smalley wall Are chopped down and moved away from Five icemen melt without hint of a reforming notion And the clan I saw perform the most give a bow and leave my kingdom Talented friends and 25 eclipse the work of certain strummers Steel-string chords and a railway or a globe, or Mr. Bickle's nonsense Who can rescue us from the Embrace of these Monsoonless summers? Don't rely on magic, friends because in rock there are no constants What do we do when our friends split up? Is there no way they can make it up? If you bump into my penta friends Be sure to ask if they meant to end |
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| 7. |
| 3:26 |
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Michel, are you listening?
This message is for you Perhaps you'd like to film it in that Special way you do Judging by your clients It would cost a weighty fee To make me an Around The World Or Let Forever Be Believe me when I tell you I've liked you for a while As no-one else approaches Your magic, dream-like style But now you've got a film out Your fame will multiply And all the bands that hear of you Are wealthier than I Michel, are you listening? |
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| 8. |
| 6:09 |
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With astounding grace
I'll forget your face Accidental she Hasn't noticed me We will never be I'd like to be as articulate as Mr. L Writing songs about Barbara of Seville Such a wonderful way with a pen, when he's feeling unwell I only sing about things that happen to me I never learnt how to fill my songs with allegory While my peers paid attention in English, I thought about how I could undress the girl who appeared in my life with a 'pow' Never mind that she slipped from my hand, because look at me now Stir that dish with a spoon I found on the street Every boy needs a meal that's protein replete Sometimes I would faint in the days when I didn't eat meat We soon lost count of the meals we had at your place I stand and wash but the food won't come off my face A pan of plain soup and a piece of stale bread in the bowl A rusty meringue and a slice of a pig on a roll Oh, the things we could eat if a casserole dish had a soul He fled this town for a quiet house by the sea A lesser risk of a chance encounter with me Does he realise that I relocated in January? A curving glance from a man on Charing Cross Road A signal that I will have to write my own code Long ago, when I used to be friends with a boy I betrayed I was evil, how dare I end up with the one that he craved But it turned out alright 'cause she's been by my side for an age |
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가슴네트워크 Review :: 2003-03-05
Subject : Max Tundra - Mastered By Guy at the Exchange (Domino,2002)
