
with dance macabre
we laugh at the masque of death
play Russian roulette
~
n.b. What on Earth is going on?
CLP 23/10/2021
Liberté, Égalité, Humanité
with dance macabre
we laugh at the masque of death
play Russian roulette
~
n.b. What on Earth is going on?
CLP 23/10/2021
needle lifts off vinyl
arm clicks to rest
low buzz of speakers
gently suppressed by rain
darkening the street
tickling the silver birch leaves
forming a wassssshhhhh
behind a passing car
~
CLP 09/08/2021
heavy rain’s half-time shuffle on the roof
mixes with the jazz ostinato beat
of towering street lamps flicking by
wheels slip over pools along the carriageway
sheets of spray from trucks misting view
red rear lights, pairs of dazzling white
approach, recede
dashboard indicators green
there’s a song replaying on the radio
today becomes yesterday
00:00
as soon as tomorrow becomes now
vehicles stretch apart, further apart, disappear
then this is the last one tracing the road
deep into the city’s orange glow
pointless waiting at crossroads for change
illuminated arrows pointing home
weighed down by the return of gravity
I step through the door
the post on the hall floor
dates how long I’ve been away
a web loose-hanging at the window
holds small black silk bundles
where the spider’s been making hay
~
CLP 18/06/2021
Music stops
everyone dances one step more
before realising what’s occuring
mad rush to chairs
enough for us all
~
CLP 02/06/2021
Using graphics to
remember all kinds of stuff
such as history
~
n.b. American Bison / also known as buffalo / Bob Marley / Buffalo Soldiers / African-American regiments of the US Army / Civil wars of the USA / Indigenous Americans* / First Nation / slavery / colonisation / land grabs / exploitation / What is freedom? / What do we love and whom do we love? / Who pays for prosperity? / Is a life survived best left unexposed? / ethics / Trace’ by Lauret Savoy.
* I am uncertain how to collectively name the people who populated The Great Plains of the North American continent. Advice happily received.
n.n.b. Inspired by NF. Thank you.
~
CLP 10/03/2021
Gutter plays flat notes
overflow erratic beat
flood of rain music
~
CLP 06/02/2021
It would be ridiculous to file all the recorded music I have in alphabetical order until I have a settled home. I don’t know how long I will be living here, (no one knows how long Lockdown 3 will even last), but I know that I can’t put up any shelves in this rented property. So, what I have is in plastic boxes.
Today I decided to empty them all out and re-box the collection into categories then note where each box is stashed. So, if I fancy listening to some Godspeed You Black Emperor, John Lennon, Bela Bartok, or The Fall I will now know where to start looking.
I discovered one CD I remembered little about, which turned out to be by Saul Williams the title Martyr Loser King. I think that I had bought it in Rough Trade East from the sale rack. The title must have appealed to me and is indicative of the cleverly constructed lyrics, which you can download as a pdf from the website. The artist’s projects include poetry and film. Worth investigating, if you have some spare Internet time.
I recognised another bargain basement CD I had acquired, but wasn’t sure if it was blues, or country-rock, or what, because I had not played it recently. It turned out to be an authentic country and western album with lyrics so mournful it made me laugh out loud. It cheered me up no end, thanks, Mr Leach.
If you want to track it down it is Tom Leach’s eponymous album, Tom Leach. He produced all 16 tracks on a friend’s 4 track recording machine at home. The tracks Yesterday’s News and Mr Hang Up The Phone are just two of the gems on this album. The absolute winner is Ice Below You. The chorus includes the line “You’ve got so much ice below you; I’m falling through.” is a winter winner; ideal for these times of bad weather, covid confinement and misery.
~
CLP 24/01/2021
Nothing could stop us
when we let the music play
danced on ’til we dropped
~
CLP 14/01/2021
When this wind blows
Things sound different
After the leaves have dropped
To mosaic the floor.
~
This wind bends through the bared boughs
Divides to draughts between the trunks
Blows low notes from the wood
Makes this place an instrument
For mournful tunes
~
When we hear this hollow overture
Howling from beeches and birches
We can be certain winter approaches
~
CLP 27/10/2020
Every now and then
I find an album that I can’t
Stop playing. Repeat.
~
n.b. One in an occasional and sporadic series of posts about great music. I offer you Tame Impala, ‘The Slow Rush’. Fabulous!
CLP 13/10/2020