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
I isolate amino acids sometimes I bottle them and sell them when the sun shines Cold sores erupt if you don't keep lysine levels healthy A tingle on your lip, should come and see me
Many foods are rich in arginine Concentrate on the ones with more lysine Highest levels of all in margarine
My attitude of sorrow for the dead man Was hidden by my interest in his great plan His dying 4/4 gasp withdrew his wait from the game Now listening posts in Fnac will carry my name
An obiturary by Mr. Toop Now he's gone there's one less laptop loop With your help this time 'round I might recoup
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
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
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
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
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
IDM(Intelligent Dance Music)은 크라프트베르크 이래로 발전해온 전자음악의 갈래 중에서도 해체주의가 중심적 화두로 떠오른 이후, 가장 많은 부분에서 포스트모더니즘의 진보적 가치관과 조우하며 일렉트로니카 씬의 예술적 최전선에 서 있는 음악이다. IDM은 세기말을 지나오면서 이미 차트를 점령한 트랜스의 방법론과는 거리를 두는 대신 관념적이고 추상적인 사운드의 조직화에 몰두해왔으며 현대 클래식과 프리 재즈 같은 '아방가르드한' 계열의 음악들의 일부를 점차적으로 공유하기도 하면서 확연한 변별지점을 드러내는 진화과정을 거쳐왔다. IDM은 추상성과 초현실성이라는 전위(avant-garde)예술의 요소를 절충한 태생적 특성 때문에 이미 오래 전부터 기존 트랜스를 향해 가치관과 개념에 있어서 냉소적이고...