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David Bowie: The Next Day

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Columbia Records
Released: 2013
Time:
 53:17
Category: Pop/Rock
Producer(s): David Bowie, Tony Visconti
Rating: *******... (7/10)
Media type: CD
Web address: www.davidbowie.com
Appears with:
Purchase date: 2013
Price in €: 1,00





 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] The Next Day (David Bowie) - 3:26
[2] Dirty Boys (David Bowie) - 2:58
[3] The Stars [Are Out Tonight] (David Bowie) - 3:57
[4] Love Is Lost (David Bowie) - 3:57
[5] Where Are We Now? (David Bowie) - 4:09
[6] Valentine’s Day (David Bowie) - 3:02
[7] If You Can See Me (David Bowie) - 3:12
[8] I’d Rather Be High (David Bowie) - 3:44
[9] Boss Of Me (Gerry Leonard) (David Bowie) - 4:09
[10] Dancing Out In Space (David Bowie) - 3:21
[11] How Does The Grass Grow? (Jerry Lordon) - 4:34
[12] (You Will) Set The World On Fire (David Bowie) - 3:32
[13] You Feel So Lonely You Could Die (David Bowie) - 4:37
[14] Heat (David Bowie) - 4:25

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


David Bowie - Vocals on [1-15,17], Producer, Guitar on [1,16], String Arrangement on [1,3,15], Acoustic Guitar on [3,13-15,17], Keyboards on [4,5,7,10,11,15-17], Percussion on [16]

Tony Visconti - Engineering, Mixing, Producer, String Arrangement on [1,3,13-15], Guitar on [2,13,15,17], Recording on [3,9], Strings on [5], Bass on [6,12,15]
Henry Hey - Piano on [5,13]
David Torn - Guitar on [1,3,7,10,11,13-15,17]
Gerry Leonard - Guitar on [1-5,7-15,17], Keyboards on [15]
Earl Slick - Guitar on [2,6,12]
Tony Levin - Bass on [2,5,7-9]
Gail Ann Dorsey - Bass on [1,3,4,10,11,13,14,17], Backing Vocals on [3,7,9,11-13,17]
Steve Elson - Baritone Saxophone on [2,3,9], Contrabass Clarinet on [3]
Zachary Alford - Drums on [1-5,7-11,13-17], Percussion on [7]
Sterling Campbell - Drums on [6,12], Tambourine on [12]
Maxim Moston - Strings on [1,3,13-15]
Antoine Silverman - Strings on [1,3,13-15]
Hiroko Taguchi - Strings on [1,3,13-15]
Anja Wood - Strings on [1,3,13-15]
Janice Pendarvis - Backing Vocals on [3,9,12,13,17]

Mario McNulty - Engineer
Tony Visconti - Engineer
Brian Thorn - Assistant Engineer
Kabir Hermon - Assistant Engineer
David McNair  - Mastering
Jimmy King - Photography
Sukita - Portrait of David Bowie on "Heroes"
Jonathan Barnbrook - Cover Design

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


2013 CD Columbia 88765 46186 2

The Next Day is the twenty-fourth studio album by English musician David Bowie, released on 8 March 2013 on his ISO Records, under exclusive licence to Columbia Records. The album was announced on Bowie's sixty-sixth birthday, 8 January 2013. Bowie's website was updated with the video for the lead single, "Where Are We Now?", and the single was immediately made available for purchase on the iTunes Store. It is Bowie's first album of new material in ten years, since 2003's Reality, and surprised fans and media who believed he had retired. The album was streamed in its entirety on iTunes days before its official release. The Next Day Extra, an additional disc featuring four more tracks, and remixes of songs from the original album, was released in November. The Next Day was met with critical acclaim, and earned Bowie his first number-one album in the UK since 1993's Black Tie White Noise. It was ranked as the second best album of 2013 (in a tie with Blue October's Sway) by German music magazine Kulturnews and was also nominated for the 2013 Mercury Prize. The album was nominated for Best Rock Album at the 2014 Grammy Awards and for MasterCard British Album of the Year at the 2014 BRIT Awards.



David Bowie has sung a song or two about outer space before. But "The Stars (Are Out Tonight)" is one of the greatest songs the man has ever written, soaring on guitar and strings and that uncanny voice. Bowie sings about two lovers looking at the night sky, where they see the whole universe buzzing with activity: "We will never be rid of these stars/But I hope they live forever." They feel the stardust in their hearts blaze to life. And they suddenly feel like they're part of the cosmos, if only because they're together. It's like Bowie decided to fuse "Heroes" and "Space Oddity" into the same song, a feat he's never attempted before. Holy shit, David Bowie.

It's a triumphant moment on a triumphant album. The Next Day is the comeback Bowie fans feared would never happen. After a health scare ended his 2004 tour, he kept his distance, and most of us figured the Thin White Duke had finally rocked his last roll. Even hardcore Bowie freaks couldn't begrudge him a cozy retirement in his golden years.

But it turns out that Bowie and cozy still aren't the best of friends. In January, on his 66th birthday, he shocked everyone by announcing he had a new album ready to go. The sessions for The Next Day were top-secret. Nobody's done it this way before: hit a creative peak, take 10 years off, then spring a surprise return on the world.

The Next Day has a strong connection to the late-1970s period when Bowie and producer Tony Visconti made their Berlin trilogy of Low, Heroes and Lodger. It also has the low-register guitar attack of Scary Monsters. The songs are in the reflective mode of his excellent (if crazily underrated) midlife LPs: Earthling and Hours in the late 1990s, Heathen and Reality in the early 2000s. The sharp-edged guitars suit the tunes – wry, soulful, adult, resistant to maudlin hysterics or overwrought sentiment.

"The Next Day" sets the tone right from the opening moments, rocking out as Bowie snarls, "Here I am, not quite died/My body left to rot in a hollow tree." Even though he sings, "I can't get enough of that doomsday song," Bowie has never sounded further from doomsday. Instead, he ranges from a furious anti-war rant ("I'd Rather Be High") to compassion for doomed youth ("Love Is Lost") to marital love ("Dancing Out in Space"). The album ends with the spaced-out electronic drone of "Heat," as he repeats the words "I tell myself/I don't know who I am."

Though he sings most of The Next Day in his staccato rock voice, Bowie holds back his torch-song theatrics for two big ballads, the goth doo-wop of "You Feel So Lonely You Could Die" and the majestic New Romantic love song "Where Are We Now?" The whole album evokes his old friend John Lennon's "In My Life" – in a way, every song here could be a sequel to that one. There are loads of musical and lyrical references to his past, as Bowie broods over the places he's gone and the faces he's seen. But he's resolutely aimed at the future. And when he hits the delirious heights of "The Stars (Are Out Tonight)," he makes the future sound irresistible.

Rob Sheffield - February 28, 2013
RollingStone.com



In den frühen Morgenstunden des 8. Januar veröffentlichte ISO/Columbia Records eine neue David Bowie-Single mit dem Titel 'Where Are We Now?'. Gleichzeitig kann man auch 'The Next Day', das erste Bowie-Album seit zehn Jahren vorbestellen. Das 30. Studioalbum der Musiklegende erscheint Anfang März. Sich nicht den Gepflogenheiten der Musikindustrie anzupassen ist typisch David Bowie, der in seiner Karriere mehr als 130 Millionen Album weltweit verkaufte, ganz abgesehen von seinen Pioniertaten und Errungenschaften in den Bereichen Kunst, Mode, Stil und Gesellschaftskritik. Seine außergewöhnliche Laufbahn war dabei stets geprägt von ausverkauften (Stadion-)Tourneen und Ticketverkaufsrekorden überall auf der Welt. Er gilt als einer der einflussreichsten Künstler der vergangenen fünf Jahrzehnte. In den vergangenen Jahren war es still um ihn sein Name blieb allerdings das Objekt endloser Spekulationen, Gerüchte und Wunschdenkens. Auf die Veröffentlichung eines neuen Albums hätte allerdings keiner zu hoffen gewagt. Letzten Endes ist David Bowie jedoch ein Künstler, der schreibt und auftritt, wann er möchte... wenn er etwas zu sagen hat und nicht, wenn er etwas zu verkaufen hat. 'Where Are We Now' wurde von David Bowie geschrieben und von seinem langjährigen Studiopartner Tony Visconti in New York produziert. Zum Song inszenierte Tony Oursler ein Video, das an Bowies Zeit in Berlin erinnert. Der Clip enthält u.a. Aufnahmen der Autoreparaturwerkstatt, die sich unter der Wohnung im Berliner Stadtteil Schöneberg befand, in der er 1976 bis 1978 wohnte, dazu beeindruckende Bilder der damals geteilten Stadt. Im Text taucht dazu immer wieder die Frage auf: 'Where are we now?'. Die Songzeile 'the moment you know, you know you know' aus 'Where Are We Now' scheint auch das Bowie-Motto 2013 zu sein. David Bowie war tatsächlich im Studio zu einem Zeitpunkt, an dem man es am allerwenigsten erwartet hätte.

Amazon.de



Just what is it you people want from David Bowie? Whatever it is, you want it hard, and it’s not just the 10 dormant years in which every slight tremor of activity has been pounced on and devoured that charges his return with rapture of religious proportions. Bowie remains special, apart; he’s retained his otherworldly artistic mystique (even after Extras). So now he’s descended to our plane once more (and you can trust he wouldn’t bother if he didn’t feel he had to) what do you need from pop’s arch shapeshifter on his 26th album? Innovation, revelation, comfort?

There’s a certain tone sometimes expected of artists of a certain… venerableness. Blame Johnny Cash and Rick Rubin, whose American Recordings series set the model for the memento mori album, one which looks approaching mortality dead in the eye before casting a wise, rueful eye over the reflective artist life’s work.
You might have expected, from the stately wistfulness with which ‘Where Are We Now?’ – released on the eve of Bowie’s 66th birthday – took a nostalgic journey from Potsdamer Platz through the Berlin that bore Bowie’s crowning artistic achievements, that the Thin White Duke had come to that crossroad. Nuh-uh. As not just the title, but the sleeve art of ‘The Next Day’, with its gleeful, meme-tastic defacement of ‘Heroes’ suggests, this is a record that while happy to acknowledge Bowie’s titanic past and borrow, magpie-like from it, is anything but navel-gazing, self-referential or reverent, instead leaping forward with a restless energy to tomorrow.

The choice of that particular sleeve, and the most constant sonic reference, ‘Scary Monsters And Super Creeps’ is significant. ‘Heroes’ is Bowie’s masterpiece/benchmark/millstone, and similarly, he must be heartily sick of every album from the ‘90s onwards being reviewed as “the best since ‘Scary Monsters’”. Rather than run from that, he’s meeting his legacy head-on and playing chicken with it.

It’s the nerve-singeing vibrancy of these songs that strike you hardest; there’s no sense as with ‘Outside’ or ‘Earthling’, that it’s the need for another radical reinvention that’s pulled Bowie back to music-making. It’s more that these songs feel like stories that insisted on being told, bright and aggressive and poppy.

The title track sets the tone, a cocky strut seething with rage, whose romping, stomping rhythm and squealing guitar licks are reminiscent of ‘Beauty And The Beast’, the opening track from ‘Heroes’. It boils with lust, paranoia and megalomania, the rant of an unnamed prophet or charlatan on the run from priests and the populace. It’s another installment in Bowie’s longstanding fascination with conflicted, powerful figures from history, and it builds and builds almost unbearably towards a maniacal, martyred, shouted chorus: “Here I am, not quite dying/My body left to rot in a hollow tree.”

The in-your-face, teeth-at-your-throat pace rarely slacks. The only track other than ‘Where Are We Now?’ that strikes an even vaguely nostalgic tone is ‘Dirty Boys’. With its obvious nod to ‘Boys Keep Swinging’ in the title and lyrical reference to The Animals’ ‘Tobacco Road’, it seems to hark back to a wilder youth. As with ‘Where Are We Now?’, though, it’d be unwise to assume that the subject is wholly, or even mainly, Bowie – a man rarely interested in revealing his ‘true’ self (producer Tony Visconti has assured fans that “none of these songs are about him”).

Instead, he returns to another favourite theme, the shifting, shiny surfaces of stardom, a Bowie hobbyhorse right from the days of from Major Tom and his shirts. The reflections on ‘The Stars (Are Out Tonight)’ on the vampiric nature of celebrity might seem asinine until you remember that they come from a man who can barely step outside his door without breaking the internet under the weight of speculation as to when he’s going to die. Actually imagine that state of affairs being your life for a moment, and lines like “They are the stars, they're dying for you but I hope they live forever/They burn you with their radiant smiles and trap you with their beautiful eyes” take a different hue. Musically, it’s supremely polished AOR, glistening keys, steadily chugging rhythm guitar, comfortably ambling bass, sweeping strings; the song equivalent of a Bret Easton Ellis novel, glossy, detached and unsettling.

Similarly sweet-sounding and sick-hearted is ‘Valentine’s Day’, probing the psychology of a young mass shooter with a glammy, sashaying, handclapping bobby-dazzler of a tune that has the wide-eyedness of ‘Starman’, the elegiac beauty of ‘All The Young Dudes’. ‘You Will Set The World On Fire’ whisks you to Greenwich Village in the ‘60s, where Bowie rewrites pop history by imagining a young folk singer with genuinely world-changing powers, who fulfils all the promise of the protest songs a young Bowie so admired (you could view it as a very late follow-up to 1971’s ‘Song For Bob Dylan’).

‘Love Is Lost’ evokes struggle on a more personal level, with a harsh, late-’70s robo-funk sound, while ‘Boss Of Me’ is an edgily devil with a cheekily bubbling sax line and wryly romantic lyrics, but in the main, the focus is on definite, specific stories. Perhaps the most intriguing of all are hidden within ‘Heat’ and ‘You Feel So Lonely You Could Die’. The former is heavy with the funereal atmospherics of the Berlin trilogy instrumentals, Bowie adopting a distant, lugubrious, Thin White Duke-style tone, raving deliriously “I don’t know who I am”. On the latter, a waltz-time piano ballad, the atmosphere zings with paranoia, Bowie casting unpleasant shadows of the future for an informer in unspecified times of oppression. “Lovers thrown in airless rooms/Then vile rewards for you... I can read you like a book/I can see you hanging from a beam."

The jagged, jazzy angles of ‘How Does The Grass Grow’ with its musical hat-tip to The Shadows’ ‘Apache’ hints at bloody wartime tragedy, and sticking to the theme, ‘I’d Rather Be High’ turns luscious plastic psych-pop to the caddish tale of a young soldier who’d “rather smoke and phone my ex, be begging for some teenage sex”, deliciously liquid, Eastern-tinged guitar collapsing gracefully into the floaty calm of the chorus.

Loveliest of all though is ‘Dancing Out In Space’, whose shimmying rhythms and warm, twangy licks are carefree as a giggle. The key change going into the chorus and the adorable resolution are the stuff musical love is made of, and love is of course the subject. The fact that Bowie quietly slips in a reference to Symbolist poet Georges Rodenbach into this irresistible dance tune makes it all the more delightful, the most invigorating moment on an album that bubbles over with life and creative curiosity.

Tony Visconti says that while making ‘The Next Day’, Bowie was smiling all the time, happy to be back in the studio, and had told him “‘I just want to make records’”. This album is, foremost, about songcraft. Rather than reinventing Bowie, it absorbs his past and moves it on, hungry for more (and indeed, Visconti has hinted that more is to come). It demands that you listen to it in this moment, not that you give it an easy ride because this is the man who made ‘Heroes’; and its songs more than live up to the demand. With Bowie sounding like he’s too busy and having too much fun to worry about the dying of any light, it seems like there’s many more next days to come.

Emily Mackay - NME.com
© 1996-2014 Time Inc. (UK) Ltd.



Even after 10 years away from the spotlight, David Bowie – pop’s most important post-Beatles innovator – still commands unrivalled levels of fascination.

Just when it seemed that he had quietly slipped into a dignified retirement, which no-one would have begrudged, the world awoke one morning in January to the remarkable news of not only a single, Where Are We Now?, available immediately, but also this album.

In the context of the album, Where Are We Now? – a moving, backwards glance at The Berlin Years – seems a slight red herring. Bowie does consider the past, ageing, mortality: on the title track’s chant of “My body left to rot in a hollow tree” and I’d Rather Be High’s stumbling “to the graveyard”.

How Does the Grass Grow? poses the question, “Would you still love me if the clocks could go backwards?” (You Will) Set the World on Fire seemingly addresses his pre-stardom self, a You Really Got Me riff and slick confidence reminding us that he’s always had “what it takes”. This elegiac nostalgia is matched by the beautiful You Feel So Lonely You Could Die.

A complex mood pervades elsewhere, a sense of things gone awry. The nicely sinister Dirty Boys’ expressive, serious vocal depicts a skewed Englishness of cricket bats, “Finchley Fair” and running “with dirty boys”. The Stars (Are Out Tonight) sees those stars (a recurring theme) anthropomorphised: “sexless and unaroused”, unsettlingly “beaming like blackened sunshine”.

The most experimental cut, If You Can See Me, proclaims – amidst spacey, tumbling rhythms and scattered jumbles of notes and words – “I will slaughter your kind”. Love Is Lost makes youth seem ominous – newness abounds but still “your fear is old”. Clearly this is no elder statesman simply wistfully gazing into a dappled, romanticised past.

Valentine’s Day and I’d Rather Be High are further standouts – the former is a mid-paced depiction of a character with a “tiny face” and “scrawny hands”; the latter, a furious anti-war song.

Closer Heat is a brilliant exemplar of what makes our finest, bravest musician of the past 40 years so irreplaceable. It’s full of spaced-out vocals, ominous noises and bangs, keening strings and disturbing, impressionistic poetry.

With the opacity and lack of easy answers that you would hope for from this most stylish and creative of artists, this is a triumphant, almost defiant, return. Innovative, dark, bold and creative, it’s an album only David Bowie could make.

Jude Clarke - BBC Review
 

 L y r i c s


The Next Day

"Look into my eyes", he tells her
"I’m gonna say goodbye", he says, yeah
"Do not cry", she begs of him goodbye, yeah
All that day she thinks of his love, yeah

They whip him through the streets and alleys there
The gormless and the baying crowd right there
They can’t get enough of that doomsday song
They can’t get enough of it all

Listen

"Listen to the whores", he tells her
He fashions paper sculptures of them
Then drags them to the river‘s bank in the cart
Their soggy paper bodies wash ashore in the dark
And the priest stiff in hate now demanding fun begin
Of his women dressed as men for the pleasure of that priest

Here I am, not quite dying
My body left to rot in a hollow tree
Its branches throwing shadows on the gallows for me
And the next day,
And the next,
And another day

Ignoring the pain of their particular diseases
They chase him through the alleys chase him down the steps
They haul him through the mud and they chant for his death
And drag him to the feet of the purple headed priest

First they give you everything that you want
Then they take back everything that you have
They live upon their feet and they die upon their knees
They can work with satan while they dress like the saints
They know god exists for the devil told them so
They scream my name aloud down into the well below

Here I am, not quite dying
My body left to rot in a hollow tree
Its' branches throwing shadows on the gallows for me
And the next day,
And the next,
And another day.


Dirty Boys

Something like Tobacco Road
Living on a lonely road
I will pull you out of there
We will go to Finchley Fair

I will buy a feather hat
I will steal a cricket bat
Smash some windows, make a noise
We will run with Dirty Boys

When the sun goes down
When the sun goes down and the die is cast
When the die is cast and you have no choice
We will run with Dirty Boys

We all want men we all want you
Me and the Boys we all go through
You've got to learn to hold your tongue
They said the moon was his burning son

When the sun goes down
When the sun goes down and the die is cast
When the die is cast and you have no choice
We will run with Dirty Boys


The Stars (Are Out Tonight)

Stars are never sleeping
Dead ones and the living

We live closer to the earth
Never to the heavens
The stars are never far away
Stars are out tonight

They watch us from behind their shades
Brigitte, Jack and Kate and Brad
From behind their tinted window stretch
Gleaming like blackened sunshine

Stars are never sleeping
Dead ones and the living

Waiting for the first move
Satyrs and their child wives
Waiting for the last move
Soaking up our primitive world

Stars are never sleeping
Dead ones and the living

Their jealousy's spilling down
The stars must stick together
We will never be rid of these stars
But I hope they live forever

And they know just what we do
That we toss and turn at night
They're waiting to make their moves
But the stars are out tonight

Here they are upon the stairs
Sexless and unaroused
They are the stars, they're dying for you
But I hope they live forever

They burn you with their radiant smiles
Trap you with their beautiful eyes
They're broke and shamed or drunk or scared
But I hope they live forever

Their jealousy's spilling down
The stars must stick together
We will never be rid of these stars
But I hope they live forever

And they know just what we do
That we toss and turn at night
They're waiting to make their moves on us
The stars are out tonight

The stars are out tonight
The stars are out tonight


Love Is Lost

It's the darkest hour, you're 22
The voice of youth, the hour of dread
It's the darkest hour, and your voice is new
Love is lost, and lost is love

Your country's new, your friends are new
Your house, and even your eyes are new
Your maid is new, and your accent, too
But your fear is as old as the world

Say goodbye to the thrills of life
When love was good, when love was bad
Wave goodbye to the life without pain
Say hello, your beautiful girl

Say hello to the greater men
Tell them your secrets they're like the grave
Oh what you have done, oh what you have done
Love is lost, lost is love

You know so much, it's making me cry
You refuse to talk, but you think like mad
You've cut out your zone and the things have fold
Oh what have you done, oh what have you done
Oh what have you done, oh what have you done


Where Are We Now?

Had to get the train
From Potzdamer platz
You never knew that
That I could do that
Just walking the dead

Sitting in the Dschungel
On Nurnberger strasse
A man lost in time near KaDeWe
Just walking the dead

Where are we now?
Where are we now?
The moment you know
You know, you know

Twenty thousand people
Cross Bose Brucke
Fingers are crossed
Just in case
Walking the dead

Where are we now?
Where are we now?
The moment you know
You know, you know
As long as there’s sun
As long as there’s sun
As long as there’s rain
As long as there’s rain
As long as there’s fire
As long as there’s fire
As long as there’s me
As long as there’s you


Valentine's Day

Valentine told me who's to go
Feelings he treasured most of all
The teachers and the football stars
It's in his tiny face
It's in his scrawny hands
Valentine sold his soul
He's got something to say
It's Valentine's day
The rhythm of the crowd
Benny and Judy down
Valentine sees it all
He's got something to say
It's Valentine's day

Valentine told me how he feels
If all the world were under his heels
Or stumbling through the mall
It's in his tiny face
It's in his scrawny hands
Valentine Knows it all
He's got something to say
It's Valentine's day

Valentine, Valentine
Valentine, Valentine
It's in his scrawny hands
It's in his icy heart
It's happening today
Valentine, Valentine
It's in his scrawny hands
It's in his icy heart
It's happening today
Valentine, Valentine


If You Can See Me

If you can see me I can see you

I could wear your new blue shoes
I should wear your old red dress
And walk to the crossroads
So take this knife
And meet me across the river

Just shoots and ladders and this is the kiss
American Anna, fantastic Alsatian
From nowhere to nothing
And I go way back

Children swarm like thousands of bugs
Towards the lights the beacons above the hill
The stars to the West, the South, the North and to the East

Now you could say I've got a gift of sorts
A fear of rear windows and swinging doors
A love of violence and dread of sighs

If you can see me I can see you
If you can see me I can see you

I have seen these bairns wave their fists at God
Swear to destroy the beasts, stamping the ground
In their excitement for tomorrow
I could wear your new blue shoes
I should wear your old red dress
And walk to the crossroads
So take this knife
And meet me across the river

I will take your lands and all that lays beneath
The dust of cold flowers, prison of dark of ashes
I will slaughter your kind who descend from belief
I am the spirit of greed, a lord of theft
I'll burn all your books and the problems they make

If you can see me I can see you
If you can see me.


I'd Rather Be High

Nabokov is sun-licked now
Upon the beach at Gruenewald
Brilliant and naked just
The way that authors look

Clare and Lady Manners drink
Until the other cows go home
Gossip till their lips are bleeding politics and all

I'd rather be high
I'd rather be flying
I'd rather be dead or out of my head
Than training these guns on those men in the sand
I'd rather be high

The Thames was black, the tower dark
I flew to Cairo, find my regiment
City's full of generals
And generals full of shit
I stumble to the graveyard and I lay down by my parents,
Whisper "Just remember duckies
Everybody gets got"

I'd rather be high
I'd rather be flying
I'd rather be dead or out of my head
Than training these guns of those men in the sand
I'd rather be high

I'm seventeen and my looks can prove it
I'm so afraid that I will lose it
I'd rather smoke and phone my ex
Be pleading for some teenage sex, yeah

I'd rather be high
I'd rather be flying
I'd rather be dead or out of my head
Than training these guns on the men in the sand
I'd rather be high,
I'd rather be high...


Boss Of Me

Tell me when you're sad
I'm gonna make it cool again
I know you're feeling bad
Tell me when you're cool again

Who'd have ever thought of it
Who'd have ever dreamed
That a small town girl like you
Would be the boss of me

We fly through the night
The tears on your lips
Life has your mind and soul
It spins on your hips

Who'd have ever thought of it
Who'd have ever dreamed

Who'd have ever thought of it
Who'd have ever dreamed
That a small town girl like you
Would be the boss of me
Would be the boss of me
Would be the boss of me

You look at me and you reach for the free blue sky
I look to the stars as they flicker and float in your eyes
And under these wings of steel the small town dies

Who'd have ever thought of it
Who'd have ever dreamed

Who'd have ever thought of it
Who'd have ever dreamed
That a small town girl like you
Would be the boss of me

Who'd have ever thought of it
Who'd have ever dreamed
That a small town girl like you
Would be the boss of me
Would be the boss of me
Would be the boss of me


Dancing Out In Space

Cutting through the water
Hands upon the ghost
To the city of solid iron
To the kingdom of the ghost
Send your friend away now
Let him sail back home tonight

Something like religion
Dancing face to face
Something like a drowning
Dancing out in space

No-one here can see you
Dancing face to face
No-one here can beat you
Dancing out in space

Silent as Georges Rodenbach
Mist and silhouette
Girl, you move like water
You’ve got stars upon your head
You’ve got my name and number
You've got to take the floor

Something like religion
Dancing face to face
Something like a drowning
Dancing out in space

No-one here can see you
Dancing face to face
No-one here can beat you
Dancing out in space

Dancing face to face
Dancing out in space [x3]


How Does The Grass Grow?

There’s a graveyard by the station
Where the girls wear nylon skirts and
Sandals from Hungary
The boys ride their Riga 1’s
Upon the little hill
Such sadness and grief
The trees die standing
That’s where we made our trysts
And struggled with our guns
Would you still love me
If the clocks could go backwards
The girls would fill with blood and
The grass would be green again
Remember the dead
They were so great
Some of them

Ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
Ya ya ya ya ya ya
How does the grass grow
Blood blood blood
Ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
Ya ya ya ya ya ya
Where do the boys lie
Mud mud mud
How does the grass grow
Blood blood blood

But I lived a blind life
A white face in prison
But you made a life out of nothing
Now I ride my black horse
I miss you more
Than you’ll ever ever know
Waiting with my red eyes
And my stone heart

Ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
Ya ya ya ya ya ya
How does the grass grow
Blood blood blood
Ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
Ya ya ya ya ya ya
Where do the boys lie
Mud mud mud
How does the grass grow
Blood blood blood

I gaze in defeat
At the stars in the night
The light in my life burnt away
There will be no tomorrow
Then you sigh in your sleep
And meaning returns with the day

Ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
Ya ya ya ya ya ya
Where do the boys lie
Mud mud mud
How does the grass grow
Blood blood blood


(You Will) Set The World On Fire

Midnight in the Village
Seeger lights the candles
From Bitter End to Gaslight
Baez leaves the stage
Ochs takes notes
When the black girl and guitar
Burn together hot in rage
You’ve got what it takes

You say too much
You will set the world babe
You will set the world on fire
I can work the scene babe
I can see the magazines
l can hear the nation
I can hear the nation cry
You will set the world babe
You will set the world on fire
You will set it on fire

Kennedy would kill
For the lines that you’ve written
Van Ronk says to Bobby
She’s the next real thing
Crouched in the half light
Screaming like a banshee
You’re in the boat, babe
We’re in the water
You say too much

You will set the world babe
You will set the world on fire
I can work the scene babe
I can see the magazines
l can hear the nation
I can hear the nation cry
You will set the world babe
You will set the world on fire
You will set it on fire


You Feel So Lonely You Could Die

No one ever saw you moving through the dark
Leaving slips of paper somewhere in the park
Hidden from your friends, stealing all they knew
Love is thrown in airless rooms
Thin vile rewards for you

And I'm gonna tell
Yes, I've gotta tell
Gotta tell the things you've said
When you're talking in the dark
And I'm gonna tell the things you've done
When you're walking through the park

Some night on a thrill-less street
Will come a silent gun
You've got a dangerous part
You stole their trust, their moon, their sun
There'll come such [?] needle on a crowded train
I bet you'll feel so lonely you could die

Buildings crammed with people, landscape filled with wrath
Grey concrete city, rain has wet the street
I want to see you clearly before you close the door
A room of bloody history, you made sure of that

I can see you as a corpse hanging from a beam
I can read you like a book
I can feel you falling
I hear you moaning in your room
Oh, see if I care
Oh please, please make it soon

Walls have got you cornered
You've got the blues my friend
And people don't like you
But you will leave without a sound or a God, an end

Oh [?] I love you
Death alone shall love you
I bet you'll feel so lonely you could die
You feel so lonely you could die,
You feel so lonely you could die.


Heat

Then we saw mission is dark
Trapped between the rocks
Blocking the waterfall
The songs of dust
The world would end
And night was always falling
The peacock in the snow

And I tell myself, I don't know who I am
And I tell myself, I don't know who I am

My father ran the prison
My father ran the prison

I can only love you by hating him more
That's not the truth, it's too big a word

He believed that love is theft
Love and war, the theft of love

And I tell myself, I don't know who I am
And I tell myself, I don't know who I am

My father ran the prison
My father ran the prison

But I am a seer, I am a liar
I am a seer, but I am a liar

My father ran the prison
My father ran the prison.

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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