1. |
|
|||
|
It was just a prototype
Smaller than life
Well that was our intention
Modify the archetype
And short the dimension
This was at the beginning
Of the change in the weather
No-one told us relativity
Was becoming untethered
Flowers in the shape of the bones that she gave you
To keep the new powers at bay
Showers in the shade of the things that fall out of you
A family is leaving today
They say by words become form
While others are coming extinct
They say by words become form
While others are coming extinct
It was just a prototype
Realer than life
Well that was the ambition
No-one said that our activities
Had begun the transition
This was at the beginning
Of the folding of the seasonals
No-one told us that our reasoning
was becoming unreasonable
Then came out the hollows
The smallest and the sleepiest
Then came out the hollows
The smallest
And turned things inside out
Turned things inside out…
And turned things inside out…
Turned things inside out…
And turned things inside out…
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
All the things you thought you knew
Arranged as objects on a table in front of you
All the facts you confused with your life
Moving past you in conveyance for the last time
Reach for the words
Reach for the point in time
All the creatures you showered with love
Move towards you now broken and hollow
All the people in whom you placed trust
Dance at you now, risen above
All the points you articulated
Given form, against your form – it’s a hit squad
Dancing in a wheel
Turning you round
Turning you on
Queen of the moon
Queen of the stars
Queen of the sun
Queen of the heavens
Queen of black water
Queen of the heavens
Bring to us all the child of promise
Bring to us all the child of promise
Reach for the stars
Reach for the stars
Reach for the place in time
Reach for the stars
Reach for the place in time
Reach for the stars
Reach for the point in time
|
||||
3. |
Bardo!
04:31
|
|||
|
There’s a hole at the bottom of the ocean
There’s a hole at the bottom of the ocean floor
There’s a hole at the bottom of the ocean
At the bottom of the hole there’s a door
The faces stretch too far
This place is stretched too far
Your case is stretched too far
Bardo!
Hole, hole, hole, hole, hole, hole, door
Hole, hole, hole, hole, hole, hole, door
Bardo!
Hole, hole, hole, hole, hole, hole, door
Hole, hole, hole, hole, hole, hole, door
Bardo!
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
In this room: loneliness is holding hands
In this room: it’s not what you brought in
In this room: you decant your essence and hope it forms a brand
In this room: personality
In this room: tranquility and fear
In this room: make yourself open
In this room: informality
In this room: banality
In this room: too many horses
That pump is the essential type
But it’s bad for the mycology
The laughter and the air are much too bright
That pump is essential
In this room: it’s not what’s been brought in
In this room: be an animal
In this room: too many horses
In this room: set yourself on fire
|
||||
5. |
Red Star
03:20
|
|||
|
The red star fell into my hand last night
The red star fell out of the sky
The child cried: “The star it died in my hand!”
(And this is what I think of the union)
“Mars fell out of the sky
And into my hand…”
“Mars fell out of the sky
And into my hand…”
(repeat)
|
||||
6. |
||||
|
I am an anxiety loop
I am an affliction for the ages
I am an anxiety loop
And I want to give it all away
(Oh that’s lovely)
And I want to get the letter…
I want to get the letter
I want to get the letter
What killed him was not what killed him.
What killed him was not what tipped him over
The edge was not what killed him.
What killed him was not what tipped him over
The edge was not what killed him.
What killed him was not what tipped him over
The edge was not what killed him.
What killed him was not what tipped him over the edge.
I want to give her away
I want to give her away
Reckless aging almost took out the family
I am in St.Tropez
And I cannot find a decent take-away
What killed him was not what killed him.
What killed him was not what tipped him over
The edge was not what killed him.
What killed him was not what tipped him over
The edge was not what killed him.
What killed him was not what tipped him over
The edge was not what killed him.
What killed him was not what tipped him over the edge.
British Subject 99
I want to get the letter
I am a giver
I am a receiver
But my wife sends the letter
I want to get the letter
What killed him was not what killed him
What killed him was not what tipped him over the edge
|
||||
7. |
Interstate 5
05:33
|
|||
|
No words.
The jazz in the art of the sound of the silence of the cosmos.
|
||||
8. |
||||
|
You standing in the suburban streets
Waiting to be held
Me watching outside of this time
Will someone let me in again?
You testing the edge of the line
Praying to the margin
Me hunting for corner supplies
Milk the hallucinogen
All of these lampposts look the same
Please can you tell me my new name?
When I meet you in the prism
You seem sane
Me touching an image in glass
Now my hands are frozen
His forehead in heavenly flame
And jumping from the bypass
The past has dementia
So when you go there
Don’t forget to leave…
|
||||
9. |
American Email
00:29
|
|||
10. |
A Frozen Western
03:22
|
|||
11. |
Non-Zero Number
03:16
|
|||
|
Non, non, no, nein, nyet, no, nein, nein, nein
I hear the sound of an abundance of rain
And I can smell the aroma of Christ
I hear the sound of an abundance of rain
And I hear the sound of victory
I hear the sound of an abundance of rain
And I smell the aroma of Christ
There’s a non-zero number of people in the room
There’s a non-zero number there’s a non-zero number there’s a non-zero number of people
In the room
I hear the sound of an abundance of rain
And I hear the sound of victory
I hear the sound of an abundance of rain
And I hear the sound of victory
There’s a non-zero number there’s a non-zero number there’s a non-zero number of people
In the room
There’s a non-zero number there’s a non-zero number there’s a non-zero number of people
In the room
I hear the sound of an abundance of rain
And I hear the sound of victory
|
||||
The God in Hackney Hook, UK
The God in Hackney are: Andy Cooke, Dan Fox, Ashley Marlowe, Nathaniel Mellors. Brighton, Los Angeles, New York City, Odiham.
The God in Hackney recommends:
Sweet Williams
by Sweet Williams
Music for sparse days. (The great post-hardcore sound of Thomas House.)
go to album
Music for your previous self.
go to album
Under The Mercies
by lunch money life
Music for horizons
go to albumIf you like The God in Hackney, you may also like:
Promises
by Floating Points, Pharoah Sanders & The London Symphony Orchestra
supported by 11 fans who also own “The World in Air Quotes”
Big thanks to Floating Points for bringing me back to Pharoah Sanders on his swansong . An amazing creation and collaboration.
go to album
Suite for Max Brown
by Jeff Parker
supported by 6 fans who also own “The World in Air Quotes”
A most hypnotic/comforting/freeing/fresh jazz record.
go to album
A fascinating mash-up of jazz sensibility with Krautrock motorik on an album that mesmerizes with repetition.
go to album
