바우하우스는 1970, 80년대 영국 고딕 신에 가장 큰 영향을 끼친 위대한 그룹으로 평가 받는다. 뿐만 아니라 당시 영국에서 최고의 대중적 인기를 누렸던 포스트 펑크 신에서도 넘버원 공동체로 손꼽혔다. 본작은 바우하우스가 1992년 발표한 라이브 실황으로 ‘Rest In Peace’라는 제목이 말해주듯, 그들이 행했던 마지막 콘서트로서 그 희소가치를 뽐낸다. 이 이유 하나 때문에라도 한번쯤은 꼭 집고 넘어가야할, 바우하우스의 음악 역사에 있어 중요한 순간을 선점하고 있는 레코드이다. 대표곡 ‘Burning From The Inside’를 비롯해 총 23곡을 수록하고 있다. .... ....
Running without aim Through the razor weeds That only reach my knees And when I'm lying in the grey sleep I don't know how to walk the boards I open my eyes, and look at the floor And now I don't see you anymore
There is no choice, we make a point To counteract a threatening hand Close my hold Let's be near Let's be near the atmosphere
Terror couple kill colonel Terror couple kill colonel
His eyes were heavy He carried a card One couple questioned The other discharged Terror couple kill colonel in his West German home Three shots from three feet Dragged himself to the phone
Terror couple kill colonel Terror couple kill colonel
And as he lay there Playing games with his pain He felt his choice of jobs Was such a mistake He could have been a doctor In a soft easy chair In stead he chose three stars A territorial affair
Terror couple kill colonel Terror couple kill colonel
In his West German home In his West German home In his West German home
Learning lines in the rain Special effects by Loonatik and Drinks The graveyard scene The golden years
She's in parties It's in the can (twice)
Freeze frame screen kiss Hot heads under silent wigs Fall guys tumble on the cutting room floor Look-a-likes fall on the cutting room door
She's in parties It's in the can (twice)
Learning lines in the rain Special effects by Loonatik and Drinks Freeze frame, screen kiss, hot heads, lights (headlights?) and power (powder?) It's patently obvious
She's in parties It's in the can (twice)
Hot lines under a rain of drum Cigarette props in action Dialogue dub, now here's the rub She's acting her reaction
The young man held a gun to the head of God Stick this holy cow Put the audience in action Let the slaughtered take a bow The old man's words, white hot knives Slicing through warm butter The butter is the heart The rancid peeling soul
Scratch pictures on asylum walls Broken nails and matchsticks hypodermic hypodermic hypodermic RED FIX
One man's poison another man's meat One man's agony another man's treat Artaud lived with his neck paced firmly in the noose Eyes black with pain, Limbs in cramps contorted The theatre and its double The void and the aborted
Dancing on hot tiles Dancing on tender-hooks Dancing down church aisles Dancing on holy books Dancing on crocodiles Dancing on hallowed ground Dancing Nyjinsky style Dancing with the lost and found
Dancing on rock'n'roll's grave Dancing on burning coals Dancing on 'Jesus saves' Dancing with old scratch soul Dancing on flick knives Dancing a stiletto groove Dancing our nine lives away Dancing in the Louvre
Dancing in catacombs Dancing in tuxedo drag Dancing in dark rooms Dancing on all your flags Dancing in the Vatican Dancing on the papal gown Dancing on the taxman Dancing on the crown
We're dancing to the dark side of this tune We're dancing to the dark side of this tune
Baleful sounds and wild voices ignored In luck disaster the one reward Violated sanctity of supermen's hills So sad love lies there still So sad So sad Hollow hills Hollow hills Witches too and goblin too and speckled sills Lament repent oh mortal you So sad So sad
In a crucifixation ecstasy Lying cross chequed in agony Stigmata bleed continuously Holes in head, hands, feet, and weep for me
Stigmata oh you sordid sight Stigmata in your splintered plight Look into your crimson orifice In holy remembrance In scarlet bliss
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum Father, son, and holy ghost Stigmata Martyr
And he spoke of pastures green I was never told why Each journey lasts an age And my throat feels dry It must be the lesson Hidden deep inside It must be the lesson So roll the tide
So I began the crossing My throat burned dry Searching for Satori The kick in the eye I am the end of reproduction Given no direction Every care is taken In my rejection
Kick in the eye (x4)
Every care is taken With my rejection And my abduction To my addiction Every care is taken With my protection And my abduction From my addiction
Caressing bent up to the jug again With sheaths and pills Invading all those stills In a hovel of a bed I will scream in vain Oh please, miss lane Leave me with some pain
Went walking through this city's neon lights In fear of disguising my warping seathing Pressure lines and graceless heirs Intangible of price Trying so hard to find what was right
I came upon your room it stuck into my head We leapt into the bed degrading even lice You took delight in taking down All my shielded pride Until exposed became my darker side
Puckering up and down some avenue of sin Too cheap to ride they're worth a try If only for the old times, cold times Don't go waving your pretentious love
He's soliciting on his tan brown brogues (dark entries...) Girating through some lonesome devils row (dark entries...) Pinpointing well meaning upper class prey (dark entries...) Of walking money checks possessing holes (dark entries...) He often sleekly offers his services (dark entries...) Exploitation of his finer years (dark entries...) Work with loosely woven fabrics (dark entries...) Of lonely office clerks (dark entries...) Any lay suffices his dollar green eye (dark entries...)
I came upon your room it stuck into my head We leapt into the bed degrading even lice You took delight in taking down All my shielded pride Until exposed became my darker side
Puckering up and down some avenue of sin Too cheap to ride they're worth a try If only for the old times, cold times Don't go waving your pretentious love
Dark entries Dark entries Dark entries Dark entries
I dare you, to be real To touch a flickering flame The pangs of dark delight Don't cower in night fright
Don't back away just yet From destinations set I dare you to be proud To dare to shout aloud For convictions that you feel Like sound from bells to peal I dare you to speak of your despise For bureaucracy, hypocracy- all liars
A gut pull drag on me Into the chasm gaping we Mirrors multi-reflecting this Between spunk stained sheet And odorous whim Camera eye-flick-shudder within Assist me to walk away in sin Where is the string that Theseus laid Find me out this labyrinth place.
I do get bored, I get bored In the flat field. I get bored, I do get bored In the flat field
Yin and yang lumber punch Go taste a tart, then eat my lunch And force my slender thin and lean In this solemn place of fill wetting dreams Of black matted lace of pregnant cows As life maps out onto my brow The card is lowered in index turn Into my filing cabinet hemispheres spurn.
I do get bored, I get bored In the flat field. I get bored, I do get bored In the flat field
Let me catch the slit of light For a maidens sake On a maiden flight In the flat field I do get bored Replace with Piccadilly whores In my yearn for some cerebral fix Transfer me to that solid plain Hammer me into blazen pain Moulding shapes no shame to waste Moulding shapes no shame to waste And drag me there with deafening haste.
The man who was mortally wounded in war Kept on fighting The man who was cut to the quick by love Kept on loving The man who was merciless tortured by thoughts Kept on thinking The man who was crippled with concern Kept on caring
Hair of the dog Hair of the dog Hair of the dog that turned Hair of the dog
The man whose eyes were sore from obscenities Kept on looking The man whose heart bled, killed by compassion Kept on feeling The man whose legs buckled under exertion Kept on running The man whose ears burned to the sound of his own name Kept on listening
Hair of the dog Hair of the dog Hair of the dog that turned Hair of the dog
White on white translucent black capes Back on the rack Bela Lugosi's dead The bats have left the bell tower The victims have been bled Red velvet lines the black box
Bela Lugosi's dead Bela Lugosi's dead
Undead undead undead Undead undead undead
The virginal brides file past his tomb Strewn with time's dead flowers Bereft in deathly bloom Alone in a darkened room The count
Bela Lugosi's dead Bela Lugosi's dead Bela Lugosi's dead Undead undead undead Undead undead undead Undead
Oh Bela Bela's undead Oh Bela Bela's undead Bela's undead Oh Bela Bela's undead Oh Bela