1. |
Prelude | Ephemera
01:23
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(Chasing the wind)
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2. |
Bone China Saviour
03:28
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Che Guevara is on my coaster
He’s wreathed in gold stars
His revolution’s a sad face
Now he wonders how the hell he wound up here
There’s a toucan sat on my mouse-mat
He’s carrying Guinness but
Looking over his shoulder
For the blue skies that once were his home
Bone China Saviour
Jesus is on my teacup
Pierced hands they hold my whisky
So I’ll cradle my Bone China Saviour
The Holy Pope is praying faithfully
Caught between the clear Perspex and a magnet
As he ponders now the purgatory of my fridge
Sipping at memory
Savouring melancholy
Tasting the flecks of my history
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3. |
Daemon
03:37
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Stones rise high, climbing from the earth
A hewn embrace of metamorphic love
Ageless home of Holy Rome enthralled
By monstrous charms, intoxicating power
I want to be your daemon
Want to be your daemon
Wrap myself around your heart tonight
Silken mouth, drink deep from the well
Banners fly, and rally round my spell
Still small voice of sanity resiled
To Hades’ song enflaming your black mind
With golden arms and scarlet tongue
I find myself inside these words
You lay back down, I steal your soul
(An eagle soars through red skies)
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4. |
Ode To Stepney
04:13
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Dunstan and the Saints sanctify your name
Kentish Ragstone grey, guards your heart and marks your fame
Wellclose Square your thegn, Johnson’s Lock checks the pulse in your vein
Ossulstone a Hundred strong could not withstand (the pain)
But who cares for you now?
A blitzed and battered kingdom pining for redemption
Your scars could be beautiful
But when will that be? (Say the bells of Stepney)
Compulsory disdain wipes your Georgian slate
Tarnished jewels once great are swept away in brutal concrete wakes
Towers rise to reign, hamlets sprawl through your Victorian graves
Wilton’s Hall remains in grandeur bruised (and brave)
Here’s a candle now to lift your head
And a candle now to light you to bed
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5. |
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Stumbling down roads of broken truth, I’m tripping on brittle proofs
The soles of my old shoes are wearing through
The air tastes thin kissing this palimpsest skin
Of a shucked out soul
To walk upon the water was all I ever wanted
With fire on my tongue from hymns of old
But lonely is the alter where siren songs are chanted
Now I’m searching for the shore
See this erudite edifice persist with atrophied emotion
From an age where I couldn’t breathe and I wouldn’t yield but I could not run
Now even though a host of holy ghosts is haunting me
I’m a shucked out soul
I don’t know how
Don’t know how I’m gonna stand
The burning pyre hides a cloud
My weeping eyes are seeking for a hand
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6. |
Flood of Red
04:25
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I am the doubt of Thomas
I'm the finger in the wound
I am Indiana Jones with no Short Round to help
And I'm trapped in the Temple of Doom
I am Saint John of the Cross
In his darkening night of dread
I've the stark bloodshot eyes of the lonely and lost
And I can't seem to get out of bed
I'm struggling to get out of bed
But the broken bread and the flood of red
In silver cup won't lift me up, fill me up
The broken bread and the flood of red
In silver cup won't|might lift me up
But I'll drink it down still
Yes I'll drink it down still
Speak my holy verse
So that Adam's curse
Might lift from me now
I am the heir of Jonah
And I'm still stuck inside that fish
I've misplaced my strength, my honour, my love
And I'm striving not to forget this
Still I grasp the husk of my fervour
Like a suitcase stained with time
Oh it's torn up and tattered and splattered with hope
And my faith is spilling out of the sides
Yes my faith is spilling out of the sides
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7. |
John Proctor's Lament
04:25
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The Salem sun is setting down on the forest line
Where tangled roots of foolish youth are sprawling around my mind
Now my weary sin finds its reckoning in the shrieking skin of a child’s whim
With the kingdom’s keys jangling over me round the hanging tree
The world goes mad, yes the world goes mad
And the devil’s on my back
Judges gather names, stoke, fan the flames at the vestry door
Now vengeance reigns and grudges claim their victims, settling sacred scores
So the fire burns yes the fire burns, and I hear the dark boot of Lucifer
Truth is cracked and strapped back on the rack, oh my time is coming soon
The world’s gone mad, yes the world’s gone mad
I’ve given my soul, given my all won’t you leave me my name?
If it’s all the same, please leave me my name
(My heart is riven)
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8. |
Derivative Calves
05:03
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Far beyond this darkling plain lurk new myths of limitless gain
Abandoned lands of milk and honey cede to fiscal reign
We bow to derivative calves forged in oil-fuelled furnaces
Graphs of bovine gold keep growing, gorging slowly on
our swollen GDP
our credit histories
these toxic equities
Sponsoring prime-time tragedy
Splendid shards of glass and steel pierce these skies with monochrome fealty
'Beauty so old and so new' accrues the tarnished hue of greed
So we serve the corporate need, blessing bonds with quantitative ease
These hedged inequities keep growing, gorging on
our swollen GDP
Our credit histories
these toxic equities
Sponsoring prime-time tragedy
JM Keynes where are you now?
JM Keynes where are you now?
In the wilderness with your locusts and honey, Jonny where are you?
Oh Jonny Keynes, how we need you now
Because we are the dying breed, caught between the Sound and the Fury
Numinous insolvency casts us to mammon's tawdry schemes
We strut and we fret and we rage, sell out our hour upon this stage
Worshipping new days of trade, desperate for the memories to fade
Of our hopes and our dreams
And our tragic histories
Our decaying philosophies
We're trying to buy back our dignity
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9. |
Entropic Heart
04:01
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340 is coming up slow now
the numbers are scrolling and tumbling round
in their black surround
as I wonder how many wickets are down
Late back home, awake in the steel glow
my mum sits in the small hours with remote control
and an emery board
reading 124 before the lights go out
I’m on hold, where am I to go?
I’m on hold but still I try to
Press red for love
Yellow for courage
Blue for my sadness
401 is promising sunshine
But these cathode rays won’t brighten my mind
So I’ll step outside, set the pixels aside
Leave Bamber behind
Now the test-card’s torn, my signal’s on the wane
Transmission shutdown means I’ll never go back again
That entropic heart is but a fragment of my past
Now Manhattan dreams are broadcast live
Manhattan dreams light up my sky
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10. |
The Underground Man
02:51
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We are born dead, ceased to be sons of living fathers
Content with the taste of sin and with shame
Dancing with dread in a bourgeois dream
I’m lost and I’m found fracturing underground
All the glory that you are is but dust of dying stars
Princes and knaves fault cowardice for good sense and wisdom
We find comfort in deceiving ourselves
Crumbling malaise is our vaudeville doom
(For sin and for shame)
Not sinner nor saint
(Deceiving ourselves)
Not hero nor rogue
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11. |
Angel Wharf
05:26
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Silence strays across the pages of my memory
Mantras melt clamouring voices of the mind
Wooden beads and simple pleas
Strip the flesh from my aching bones
Midnight wanes, I pace the riverway
Breathe again
Breathe again
Distant sighs of cars ghost by through tarmac arteries,
and serenade the moonlight's chaines upon the Thames,
Delivering me from pilgrim dreams of Totnes shops
I stop drop to roll
Wipe sands of time from heavy eyes
I'm alive
I’m alive
Homeward bound, my peace is found down in the undertow
Angel Wharf marks journey's end and my repose
Orion stands with outstretched hands
His shield raised to fend off the dawn
At my door new mornings call
I’m reborn
I’m reborn
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Drew Worthley UK
Crafter of a curious blend of cerebral indie-pop with a twist of lyrical Americana.
Regular airplay
on BBC 6 Music and BBC Introducing.
Sophomore record 'CRUCIBLE' acclaimed by Louder Than War as 'one of the albums of the year without doubt.'
New album 'Maxim' a collaboration with No Spinoza is a collection of reimagined nursery rhymes. "A stellar release” Obscure Sound.
... more
Drew Worthley recommends:
A genuinely original and breathtakingly personal record, possessing the rarest mix of superb musicianship, poetically wrought lyrics and gorgeous melodies. A real gem.
go to album
Nick is an artist who truly deserves comparisons to James Taylor and Nick Drake. His intricate guitar-play and smooth vocals weave a careful web of melancholic beauty.
go to album
Strange Negotiations
by David Bazan
Bazan sings with the existential angst and raw beauty of a man forever haunted by the numinous. His lyric "You're a god damn fool but I love you" will never grow old.
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Gorgeous synth-soaked electropop with cover art to match from Glasgow's C Duncan.
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