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Lurcher [2008 demo]

from Bracktul Thleecher {2011} by irr. app. (ext.)

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At the onset of a new series of live performances with Nurse With Wound in 2008, I decided it was probably time to retire the song 'Black Teeth', which had been included in the mostly free-form sets we had been doing since 2006. So I set about creating a replacement song, using the details of my periodic visits to Steve Stapleton's home in the Irish countryside as lyrical fodder. The title of this new song, 'Lurcher', is a reference to the unusual type of one of Steve's many dogs, a beautiful greyhound mix whose name was Size.

After finishing the words, I put together a basic demo -- just metronome, electric bass and voice -- and sent it off to the other Nurses for approval. In the end, Steve decided not to use the song: primarily, I think, because the words, although essentially abstract, had too much to do with him personally. Instead, 'Black Teeth' was briefly replaced with the Rodgers & Hart song 'You Took Advantage Of Me' (based on the June Christy performance); that choice proved to be a bit too ambitious for my vocal skills, however, and after 2 attempts it was scrapped in favour of a far more appropriate selection: the Mills Brothers classic 'The Old Man Of The Mountain'.

It has been my intention to do a proper, fully-orchestrated recording of 'Lurcher' at some point, but I've yet to get around to it. I think the demo version has some charm to it, so I've included it here -- although tarted up a bit and with a few bells and whistles added to flesh out the completely stripped-down version submitted for approval three years ago.

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lyrics

lyrics:
Dismembered rubber cosmonaut
Sprawled underneath a curdled sky
Grafted to an orchid and the skull of a goat
And waiting to be scattered by the turlock tide.

Wriggling black hordes in every bucket and bowl
Or clustered into scum-skinned waterholes
Hiding under hogweed from branches haunted by crows
And waiting for their turn to rise up and smother the roads

While the collected stones raised by forgotten hands
Pour through invisible holes that only breath can mend
Fences that are raised out of the skin of the land
Peeled up from the horizon and stacked end on end

Pine martens hungry for blood scatter red feather ruin
Forsaken by God but loved by forks and spoons
Still the wind scours down the stones of Lambert's shallow grave
Another handful of dust to feed the seeds of a distant day

Rat-sized and lurching through the mineral puzzle
With a head stuck in a cone and a brine-soaked muzzle
Digging spawn-sodden fields ready to burst their bubbles
Where the ass-puffers lurk and the mud eels squeak and mumble

And the congested mass of the atmosphere
Oozes through the Merzbild membrane
Greasing the receivers, sending sparks down the wires
With friendly silver tendrils of electrical fire
Electrical Fire!

And the piss-bearded beast that once wandered free
Is just a pile of ash and blackened bones and teeth
He lost his ground to the hoarders of dirt and meat
Who carve it into shapes to fit their worthless schemes
The rubber cosmonaut has fallen from his seat
And his domain is being siphoned away into memory
Into memory...

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credits

from Bracktul Thleecher {2011}, track released April 10, 2011
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Basic track recorded at the Felton Empire Studio, Felton CA in 2008. Revisions and new mix created at Rock Creek Tributary, Hillsboro, OR in March 2011.

Photo sources & montage by M. S. Waldron.

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