1. |
|
|||
|
our consternation rhymes:
I piloted the diving bell that crashed into the bedrock of your mind
and I know so much more than you’d give me credit me for;
it’s me who gets to see your sleeping features scowling…
our consternation rhymes:
I crashed the lawnmower of love that sits upturned upon the best years of your life
our consternation rhymes…
|
||||
2. |
Your Town
03:21
|
|
||
|
the screeching birds of prey that circle high above your town:
they have known more love than ever you were shown
the children on the Brutalist estate who have got nothing are the happiest, and so you fear them
the suicidal ache arising from the ground beneath,
it feels at least impassioned to you, bored and very chaste
waking up is treachery and breathing seems a waste
ah but, if you could stray away, would you fall in love!
(I’m just here to say that you’re beautiful - that’s all)
oh, and if and when you should go into the outside world
you may well just do - well… anything you want to
the silent movie summers with your hiding in the room
and midnight with your empty hand pathetic in-between
and having inappropriate (but ultimately atavistic) dreams
the unfulfilled endeavours of a younger, naked you, erroneously haunt
for we both know the truth - that meaninglessness terrifies you; artifice is hell
(it’s almost as if know the feeling just as well…)
but, if you could stray away, would you fall in love!
(I’m just here to say that you’re beautiful - that’s all)
oh, and if and when you should go into the outside world
do as you just have to - everything you must do
if you could stray away, would you fall in love!
(I’m just here to say that you’re beautiful - that’s all)
|
||||
3. |
Witness
01:55
|
|||
|
I will not wear the embarrassment of looking in thesauruses
for synonyms for this; for antonyms to that
said plainly, in the simplest way: I’m full of love to leak
I beg you’ll play ‘receiver’ and witness me go weak
I haven’t any more to add that won’t offend your intellect
I’ve told you what I’m thinking and that’s all I can do
I’ve told you all I’m thinking - God knows that you can too
|
||||
4. |
The Westfjords
03:20
|
|
||
|
so; I hate mostly everyone I meet and have met
say you’re the same? oh really?
well, can I interest you in hectares of ice?
there are 7000 people in the Westfjords - less than one for every square mile!
that’s a figure I can live with (that’s a population density I like)!
you can just imagine: living by a glacier
never will you have to pretend that you’ve a helping hand to lend!
(or a predilection for human friends!)
Christ, I think that I’m starting to feel just like Guido
shame is for life (not just for Christmas)
I think there might be better things across the isthmus…
there are 7000 people in the Westfjords - less than one for every square mile!
that’s a figure I can live with (that’s a population density I like)!
you can just imagine: living by a glacier
never will you have to pretend that you’ve a helping hand to lend!
(or a predilection for human friends!)
|
||||
5. |
The English Riviera
01:58
|
|
||
|
we spent the day in a nasty café where the breakfasts are swimming in grease
hiding from rain on another weekday hijacked by the card companies
I would buy you a drink, but have you seen the cost of a bottle of Tizer in here?
I know some would say: ‘hey; if you liked her for real, you’d just pay’ but I must stay sincere
the nuclear holocaust could well descend and destroy every atom in space
but at least in the moment we vanish, I’d know (finally) what it’s like to feel safe
I am counting the ways this could quickly go wrong (I just got to 105)
as they multiply faster than ever before, I’m just happy my life knows your life
when I walk you back home, I will worry away (largely aloud, behind laughing)
wondering why you’re so terribly kind, I will hope you might kiss me goodnight...
|
||||
6. |
|
|||
|
you and I are not unlike pigs in shit:
never knowingly doing anything
redolent rot in an unmade bed
our hadron-colliding heads shaking at everything (nobody’s listening)
true love is owned by us
it can’t be anyone else’s (we’ve sequestered the copyright)
you and I are not unlike weird leporidae
starring in films that are meant to lack meaning
you and I - we’re not unlike the dream that is real:
the robins’ return - all of a sudden: thousands set free…
no, you and I are not unlike pigs in shit
we’d never knowingly ever do anything
true love is owned by us…
|
||||
7. |
Worryguts
04:19
|
|
||
|
uh-oh - spilled my worryguts again
pretty soon, I will kill all of my friends
(kill them accidentally, naturally…)
I just blew my brains out my mouth again
went once; liked it (apparently now, I live ‘round the bend)
and I killed all my friends (softly)
I can’t help it: when I bleed I need you, please! (I’m insane)
I don’t mean it; when I hurt, my opaque words double my pain
woke-up and I filled your hair again
but I love you; you’re my best friend
they don’t do a word quite good enough (I wish they would)
uh-oh - spilled my worryguts again
you concentrate; you won’t pretend
and I love you: you’re my best friend (I really love you - yes I do)
I can’t help it: when I bleed I need you, please! (I’m insane)
I don’t mean it; when I hurt, my opaque words double my pain…
|
||||
8. |
|
|||
|
love dies screaming in the foyer of the local cinema
a hundred-thousand woes descend as you arrive with all your friends
a loveless little boy as I - generous, but unaligned - will dutifully wait in line
hearts are limping on through the epic, soul-destroying queue
I just came out for a change - I won’t be doing that again
the loveless little boys like me - terrified of everything - dutifully waiting in line…
your informant sisterhood - very cunning; very good
they say: ‘love at first sight is not true or real or kind’
and in my drab experience, knowing only disappointment
I’d just thought you very sweet is all
love dies screaming in the foyer of the local cinema
a flaming, tarred barrage of pain belts me when I hear your name
foolish optimists like us - falling hard for nothing much - we wish we were not waiting in line
those shambolic fourteen days - falling for you; fast outplayed
they proved love at first sight was not easily sustained
and I still have this thing for you even though I’m trying not to
I just think you’re very sweet, is all
love dies screaming in the foyer of the local cinema
a hundred-thousand woes descend…
|
||||
9. |
|
|||
|
it’s somethin’ else that we have exactly the same-sized shoes
whatever happens I hope you find it’s somethin’ else too
can you believe that you lived twenty-one years before this?
or was it part of the plan; waiting for something that fit?
wishing I had been more reckless, and knowing I’d never have been
for I wasn’t; I am what I was, which was: sizing-up shoes even at seventeen
you tied a blue string for me ‘round a blue bootleg LP
I wore you down constantly; you listened more than politely
it’s still somethin’ else that we have exactly the same-sized shoes
planned perhaps or otherwise: I’m still bowled over by you
|
||||
10. |
Aelita: Queen of Mars
02:21
|
|
||
|
you will not live in the valleys forever - maybe a year?
I’m putting banknotes inside a jam-jar until we can fly to Ísafjörður
I’m going to make you the queen of Mars
and then next, I’m going to marry the queen
the ruling classes will be quite overthrown
then my princess will ascend to the planetary throne
when you grow up, I’m going to buy you every entry in the Criterion Collection
you’ll have your very own shelf for research and novels alike
I know your mother has thrown all your possessions away
you’ve no compassionate end; I hope you might let me stay
‘cause I want to make you the next queen of Mars
(and then marry the queen)
no, you won’t live in the valleys forever…
|
||||
11. |
Esther and I
01:58
|
|
||
|
apologies; we can’t make your wedding -
Esther and I are moving to Iceland
it will be too expensive to fly
hope that your day is ‘magnificent’
I’ve long been gagging on this squalid English air
the song that calls it good is wrong
I just can’t bear this squalid air
apologies; I won’t be at your wedding -
you still have a king; and I have a conscience
I have a spine; you’ve all lost your minds -
autarky’s a dream
I’ve long been gagging on this squalid English air
I hope you get it in the neck
I just can’t bear this squalid air
|
||||
12. |
199.6 Miles
02:40
|
|
||
|
199.6 miles is the distance that sets us so far apart
this is hell (you think it’s hell as well)
but 20 years, 11 months and 17 epochal days
means I’ve spent something like 98% of time just
waiting for you to exist (in which case, what’s a few weeks more?)
you tell me, ‘it’s okay’; I say ‘it’s okay’ (we’re lying)
|
||||
13. |
Estonian Films [version]
04:23
|
|
||
|
here in the prime of my youth and it’s still unsafe outside
it’s for this future that my fascist-fighting forefathers died
yes, it’s the end of the world and we should spend it like this?
if that’s the way it must be, I’d best be bourgeoised to bits
you and I sit - barricaded - in a one-bed flat by the sea
we’d’ve been all arms and legs once before, but now we are just terminally bored
you liked “Lessons of a Dead Language”, though I enjoyed “Scanners” more
can you remember your life as it existed before?
seems that I spent all yesterday listening to lossy Bobby Beausoleil
who knows what I’ll do with today? probably nothing much anyway…
you’ll suggest Estonian films, rich with a Soviet sadness and style
and I’ll indulge your beauteous mind as we stay inside, blocking out light, straining our eyes
here in the end of the world, we’re just expected to watch
you must be joking, I think, as jingos rattle their pots
if it’s the end of the world really, I’ll gladly to spend it with you
I don’t - I have to admit - hope humankind makes it through
it seems that I spent all yesterday listening to lossy Bobby Beausoleil
who knows what I’ll do with today? probably nothing much anyway…
you’ll suggest Estonian films, rich with a Soviet sadness and style
and I’ll indulge your beauteous mind as we stay inside, blocking out light, straining our eyes
|
||||
14. |
Egg
01:24
|
|
||
|
I think you’ll be beautiful
I think you’ll be picked on in school
and I think you will suffer a fool
all too gladly
I think you will be very funny
I think you’ll look just like your mummy
and when it comes to learning to see
I hope that you’re nothing like me
one day when you’re old enough to:
ask about this saccharine tune
why back before we’d even a clue
we were going crazy for you…
|
||||
15. |
Love Pioneers [version]
05:33
|
|
||
|
we are the young people who say fanciful things such as: ‘forever’
everyone thinks we’re undisciplined for putting our faith in sunnier outcomes
these young days spent by you
sweetly wounded; leisurely dead; high on jam and sleeping in;
talking about running away
and we are the young people who sing embroidered things like: ‘how are you feeling?’
oh, is it because poetry on Xanax just lacks truth and conviction?
these young days spent by you -
sweetly wounded; leisurely dead
high on jam and sleeping in;
talking about running away
though hours and hours of archive tv may vanish behind our burrowing eyes
you’ll never just be some happening to me
for I believe we were love pioneers
|
||||
16. |
Waving Goodbye
04:36
|
|
||
|
I was never that good at waving goodbye -
all too tormented by probabilities
(I worry it’s the last time)
I was never in love before it was hard to be -
unmoved by mystery ’til it was misery
(when will I see you again?)
when you’re bored by Jerusalem and the sun there’s the same sun I see
don’t tell me, I know already…
I know already that cliché will not enslave me (but I’m quite fond of you, baby)
I was never so good and still struggle when I’m waving goodbye and you slip out of sight
I have never enjoyed watching you walk away
and I hope you don’t have to; I know you’re entrapped too
(I miss you, the same)
I don’t want to get good at waving goodbye
and be hardened to sad optimistic lines like:
‘I’ll be home soon; it’s only a while…’
when you’re bored by Jerusalem and the sun there’s the same sun I see
don’t tell me, I know already…
I know already that cliché will not enslave me (but I’m quite fond of you, baby)
I was never so good and still struggle when I’m waving goodbye and you slip out of sight
|
||||
17. |
|
|||
|
there’s no living like ours!
no such love in the stars!
no raw feeling that’s so appealing!
there’s no comparable tale or parable!
there’s no living like this!
no superior kiss!
no one fictional (or non-fictional) sweeter preference I could reference!
yes, my darling; you’ll do!
(If I’ll do for you too!)
my desire is to aspire to be the squire that you desire!
oh, there’s just you and just me!
and we will be what we’ll be!
for forever and then et cetera…!
(postscript? after-show? epilogue? who knows…?)
|
||||
The Araby Bazaar England, UK
A cute cute, in a stupid-ass way.
'weird as helllll... kind of driving hard rock with really
intellectual poncy talk-singing. [Likeable] but... deeply odd.' @thesweetsnob, Twitter
Cover versions on Bandlab: www.bandlab.com/the_araby_bazaar/albums
... more
The Araby Bazaar recommends:
A throbbing homage to Carpenter horror soundtracks, replete with hyper-dramatic blurb and a chillwavey j-card. Well? Go on then.
go to albumIf you like The Araby Bazaar, you may also like:
Breezy acoustic pop from Dunedin, “Caprice” floats feathery vocals over sunny guitars and keys.
go to album
Laughing In My Sleep
by The Cradle
On his latest LP, Paco Cathcart sketches life in Brooklyn in remarkable detail.
go to album
Dream pop jammers that skip from psych to alternative to indie pop and back again.
go to album
if no one else cares, why should I care?
by Good Good Blood
Pairing lo-fi indie rock with silvery folk instrumentation, the self-described "bedroom pop wizard" casts a cozy, poignant spell.
go to album
Falando Nisso
by Valentim Frateschi
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 8, 2023
go to album
