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Lurcher [live at Blackbird Farm, 15​-​10​-​2011]

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

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about

In an odd bit of symmetry, the song that I had created to replace ‘Black Teeth’ ended up being used to serve the same purpose for which ‘Black Teeth’ was originally created. In October 2011, Dawn McCarthy was organising another of her intimate events and once again invited me to be part of the group of friends who were to perform before the main Faun Fables set, the general theme of the evening being ‘storytelling’. I didn’t have enough time to come up with anything new, but of course I did already have ‘Lurcher’ -- which fit the theme well enough and had yet to be performed in public.

As always with Dawn’s audiences, the crowd turned out to be incredibly supportive and even provided me with a great backing rhythm so I could keep my focus on remembering the words (which I hadn’t sung since recording the demo three years earlier). I got a bunch of them muddled up anyway, but I was enjoying myself so much it didn’t really matter. This is just a room mic recording so it’s somewhat rough-sounding, but it made sense to add it to this collection. The spoken introduction is particularly rough since I had to boost the volume so much to make it audible; because of this, and also because it’s a couple minutes long, I decided to make it separate track so people can easily chose to discard it. The introductions for the event were once again provided by Nils Frykdahl.

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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}, released October 26, 2011
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Recorded live at Blackbird Farm, Woodland WA on 15-Oct-2011.

Graphic by M. S. Waldron.

license

all rights reserved

tags

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