DAVID BOWIE - Vocals, Acoustic Guitar, Keyboards, Drum Programming, Cover Art Concept
REEVES GABRELS - Synthesizer, Acoustic & Rhythm Guitar, Drum Programming, Drum Loop
MARK PLATI - Synthesizer, Acoustic & 12 String Guitar, Bass,
Mellotron, Drum Programming, Add. Producer, Add. Engineer, Mixing
MIKE LEVESQUE - Drums
STERLING CAMPBELL - Drums on [5],[8],[10]
CHRIS HASKETT - Rhythm Guitar on [4]
EVERETT BRADLEY - Percussion on [5]
HOLLY PALMER - Background Vocals
KEVIN PAUL - Engineer
JAY NICHOLS - Assistant Engineer
RYOJI HATA - Assistant Engineer
JAY NICHOLAS - Assistant Engineer
ANDY VANDETTE - Mastering
REX RAY - Artwork, Design, Image Manipulation
FRANK OCKENFELS - Photography
1999 CD Virgin 48157
1999 CS Virgin 48157
2001 CD EMI 848716
Since David Bowie spent the '90s jumping from style to style, it comes
as a shock that Hours, his final album of the decade, is a relatively
straightforward affair. Not only that, but it feels unlike anything
else in his catalog. Bowie's music has always been a product of
artifice, intelligence, and synthesis. Hours is a relaxed, natural
departure from this method. Arriving after two labored albums, the
shift in tone is quite refreshing. "Thursday's Child," the album's
engaging mid-tempo opener, is a good indication of what lays ahead. It
feels like classic Bowie, yet recalls no specific era of his career.
For the first time, Bowie has absorbed all the disparate strands of his
music, from Hunky Dory through Earthling. That doesn't mean Hours is on
par with his earlier masterworks; it never attempts to be that bold.
What it does mean is that it's the first album where he has accepted
his past and is willing to use it as a foundation for new music. That's
the reason why Hours feels open, even organic — he's no longer
self-conscious, either about living up to his past or creating a new
future. It's a welcome change, and it produces some fine music,
particularly on the first half of the record, which is filled with such
subdued, subtly winning songs as "Something in the Air," "Survive," and
"Seven." Toward the end of the album, Bowie branches into harder
material, which isn't quite as successful as the first half of the
album, yet shares a similar sensibility. And that's what's appealing
about Hours — it may not be one of Bowie's classics, but it's the
work of a masterful musician who has begun to enjoy his craft again and
isn't afraid to let things develop naturally.
Hours... is a lush, largely serene self-portrait through which David
Bowie atones for mistakes and reflects on regrets. Not that this is the
chameleon's swan song, but it's a fitting time for him to speak out
honestly about his life--a life that's been lionized, criticized, and
mythologized by the masses for three decades. Bowie's Hunky Dory muses
were once "driving their mamas and papas insane," but here they are
aged and faded ("The Pretty Things Are Going to Hell"); yet the man
himself could not be more graceful or vibrant.
Beth Massa, Amazon.com's Best of 1999
From Outside to Earthling, which were released only two years apart in
the late 1990s, the rock & roll chameleon did his best to keep pace
with fleeting dance trends, jumping straight from the persona of a
post-grunge industrial phantom into that of a drum & bass
beatmeister. While both albums were respectable representations of each
genre, by switching directions with such angularity, the CDs were
ultimately more costume than camouflage. With Hours... David Bowie
updates his musical wardrobe, but for the first time in his career he
drops the facade. The album is a real-life memoir of loss, regret, and
repentance. He boldly intertwines trip-hop rhythms, new-wave nods,
Reeves Gabrels's wondrously odd guitar riffs, slow, deliberate ambient
tempos, and atmospheric synth accents, all while maintaining a
cohesive, otherworldly pop appeal. The CD marks the completion of an
ironic circle, where Bowie draws inspiration from contemporary trends
borne out of a musical style he invented decades ago. Looks like Major
Tom has finally found his way home, and what a gorgeous homecoming it
is.
Beth Massa, Amazon.com
Von Outside bis Earthling, beide im Abstand von nur zwei Jahren in den
späten 90ern erschienen, gab das Rock'n'Roll-Chamäleon sein
Bestes, um mit den flüchtigen Trends in der Dance-Szene Schritt zu
halten. Raus aus der Rolle des Post-Grunge-Industrial-Phantoms, rein in
die eines Drum-&-Bass-Meisters. Zwar lieferte er auf beiden Alben
durchaus respektable Vorstellungen der beiden Genres, der steife
Richtungswechsel aber zeigte, daß die Musik auf beiden CDs im
Grunde nur ein modisches Mäntelchen war, das er sich
übergestülpt hatte. Auf Hours... nun bringt David Bowie seine
musikalische Garderobe auf Vordermann. Zum ersten Mal in seiner
Karriere läßt er die Maske fallen. Dieses Album ist eine
wirklich gelebte Biographie aus Verlust, Bedauern und Reue. Kühn
verbindet er Trip-Hop-Rhythmen und New Wave, Reeves Gabrels' wunderbar
ausgefallene Gitarrenriffs, langsame und bedachte Ambient-Tempi und
atmosphärische Synthie-Akzente. Das ganze Album ist dabei
durchdrungen von einem fremdartigen und reizvollen Pop-Appeal. Mit
dieser CD schließt sich ein ironischer Kreis, indem Bowie seine
Inspirationen aus einem Musikstil zieht, den er selbst vor Jahrzehnten
kreiert hat. Es sieht so aus, als hätte Major Tom endlich nach
Hause gefunden -- und welch großartige Heimkehr es ist.
Beth Massa, Amazon.de
Public Enemy, David Sylvian, Björk und viele andere haben schon
Songs ins Internet gestellt. Jetzt läßt sich der vom "Thin
White Duke" zum Börsengänger gereifte David Bowie 1999 in
Platteninfos als Hauptinitiator dieser Idee feiern und stellt als
erster Majoract eine komplette CD ins Netz. Dabei hat er soviel
Technik-Hype eigentlich gar nicht nötig, wie die zehn neuen song-
und gitarrenorientierten Kompositionen auf "Hours" beweisen, die ihn
nach seinen letzten Drum & Bass-Ausflügen auf "Earthling" oder
dem Titelsong für den Soundtrack zu "Lost Highway" erneut als
reifen und sich sehnsüchtigen Schwüren hingebenden
Songschreiber auszeichnen. David Bowie 1999 knüpft mit "I´m
Dreaming My Life" und "Thursday´s Child" an seine besten Zeiten
an: schwere somnabule Melancholie de luxe und den gnadenlos pochenden
Zeittakt vor 2000 ignorierend. Er wagt es auch, der klickwütigen
Generation der Monitor-Mumien den Titel "I´m Dreaming My Life" in
Überlänge von über sieben Minuten vorzusetzen. Bowies
insgesamt 23. (!) Studioalbum, das er zusammen mit Reeves Gabrels auf
den Bermudas schrieb und aufnahm, erinnert nicht selten an die "Ziggy
Stardust"- oder "Hunky Dory"-Phase. Da kann ein Songtitel fast als
Rückblick in Trauer gewertet werden: "The Pretty Things Are Going
To Hell" - vielleicht auch, weil Bowie weiß, dass die heiligen
Werte der Rockmusik eh verraten und verkauft sind. Seine getragene
Musik, sein sardonisch flehender Gesang und die in Tristesse
verharrenden Bilder seines neuen Videoclips illustrieren Bowies
über Jahre und Trends erhabene Vision, die in dem Song "Survive"
kulminiert.
Ich bin dann mit der Sphinx gegangen, Dietmar wollte ja bei Terre
bleiben. Während der ersten Schritte im Labyrinth der
goldschillernden Sphinx, konnte ich noch das angeregte Gespräch
der beiden auf der anderen Seite des kolloidalen Vorhangs aus
Sternenstaub verfolgen. Doch ein ängstliches Hoffen, mich nicht zu
verirren, lenkte mein Interesse bald auf andere Dinge. Sehr komisch war
etwa, dass die einzelnen Gänge mit kleinen metallenen
Straßenschildern versehen waren. Der Sphinx folgend passierte ich
die Lennon-Road, Rue Jacques Brel, den Kraftwerkweg, die Chic-Avenue,
Bauhaus Lane, und Kid Montana Straat, bis mich ihre spitzbübisch
kichernde Stimme ablenkte. Ohne den Worten wirklich Aufmerksamkeit zu
schenken, verstand ich doch was von: Morgens auf vier -, Mittags auf
zwei - und Abends auf drei Beinen. - Was war bloß noch die
Antwort? @Normal:Bevor mir was Gescheites einfiel, stand ich an der
Kopfseite eines von Labyrinthmauern umzäunten Platzes. In dessen
Mitte saß ein Mann, der offensichtlich eine Tapete malte,- und in
sich versunken murmelte: »Sie muss besser werden als Labyrinth,
nur einmal noch besser.« Ohne den Mann zu begrüßen,
fragte die Sphinx: »Kommt es letztendlich allein darauf an, ob
die Gitarren eingestöpselt werden oder nicht?« Von ihrer
Stimme aufgeschreckt blickte er hoch und antwortete erstaunlich prompt:
»Davon weiß ich wenig, ich male hier mit den Farben der
Vergangenheit und wie mir befohlen, rühre ich sie mit meinen
Tränen an«. Immer noch in ihrem eigenartig amüsierten
Tonfall erwiderte die Sphinx ein wenig trotzig: »Rätsel sind
meine Angelegenheit, bleib du bei deinen Leisten! Sieh dir das
Chamäleon des Rocks an, Neil Young! Zwischen Harvest, Zuma, Trans
und Mirror Ball liegt nur eine kurze Wegstrecke«. »Für
ein unsterbliches Plappermaul wie dich vielleicht«, raunzte der
sichtlich erzürnte Maler zurück: »aber ohne Crazy
Horse, Crosby, Stills & Nash und Pearl Jam, wäre ja nicht mal
er soweit gekommen.« Wie ein Kind im Grundschulalter äffte
die Sphinx seine Stimme nach und schimpfte nun auch: »Ohne die
Spiders from Mars und Eno, Pop & Visconti würdest du hier gar
nicht sitzen. Also erinnere dich an Tin Machine und leg den blöden
Pinsel hin!« Entsetzen stieg in mir auf, als ich sah wie der
Maler von seinem Hocker aufstand und zu tanzen begann, als (wohl zu
seiner Aufmunterung) plötzlich Placebos Version von »20th
Century Boy« durch die Gänge des Labyrinths schallte.
»Dann lass ich meine Tränen eben sprechen«, sang er
als der letzte Ton verklang. Harvest und Hunky Dory, Pearl Jam und
Placebo - alles das Selbe? Ist das die Essenz von allem, dass jeder
nach allen Träumen, zu sich findet und dann einfach nur seine
eigene kleine Geschichte erzählen wird? Ich musste weg von hier,
nach draußen ins Leben zurück! Ich wählte die Gary
Numan Street, doch sie führte nicht zu einem Vorhang aus
Sternenstaub, sondern zu einer verschlossenen Tür. An der Klinke
hing ein Schild mit der Aufschrift: »Bei Mutter schmeckt es doch
am besten«. Als ich das Schild zur Seite schob und durch das
Schlüsselloch blickte, sah ich ein trauriges graues
Chamäleon, das eifrig die Wände der Gänge tapezierte.
Nein, da ging es wohl nicht weiter, ich musste woanders rauskommen.
Draußen vor dem Labyrinth erklärt Terre bestimmt gerade wie
man akkurat Lidstrich aufträgt und wenn ich an meine
diesbezüglichen Versuche des letzten Herbstes denke, weiß
ich, dass ich jene Lektion noch nötig habe.
Gert van Veens und Daphne Mollées fünfte Album-Runde.
Vierzehnmal hat das Duo mit tatkräftiger Unterstützung von
Freunden und Bekannten an den Reglern alles getan, um dem Partyvolk die
Tanzflächenbrenner zu geben, nach denen es lauthals schreit.
Konnte man den Vorgänger "Flightrecorder" mit seinen kleinen
Spielereien und der sehr großen stilistischen Durchmischung fast
als Konzeptalbum verstehen, so ist "21 Hours", direkt und straight
produziert, solide Funktionalität. Quazar schaffen ein brillantes
Grundgerüst, einen monumentalen Ruhepol aus Baß und Groove,
aus dem heraus House, Trance, Tribal Techno und mehr musikalisch
Verwandtes nuanciert wird. Wie schon bei "Flightrecorder" sind dazu
einige Tracks fließend ineinandergelegt, so daß sich
Trennlinien plötzlich als Verbindungspunkte entpuppen, über
die im Wellenflug ein Netz gespannt wird, auf dem sich ein typischer
Sound ausbreitet: Quazar-Sound.
Having spent the majority of the '90s investing in shaky deals with
cyber rock, industrial, and drum 'n' bass, the Thin White Duke has
finally stepped back from those trendier inclinations to make his most
straightforward rock album in nearly two decades. Giving the post-glam
wankers who've cribbed his classic sound a run for their money, Bowie
recalls his Heroes/Low/Lodger days with dramatic vocal build-ups and
melodic post-new wave synth washes on tracks such as "New Angels Of The
Promise" and "The Dreamers." Other songs, such as "The Pretty Things
Are Going To Hell" and "What's Really Happening" revisit the driving,
metallic rock of Tin Machine. ‘Hours…' may not be a return
to classic form or a significant leap forward for Bowie, but it does
prove his enduring vitality, as he continues to pull off fresh,
unexpected things as only a chameleon of his caliber could.
Some albums perfectly suit the season of their release, and this is one
of them. 'Hours …', David Bowie's latest release, is imbued with
an autumnal feel. Singing in the voice of an aging man looking back not
in anger, but with regret and a contemplative clam, Bowie has crafted a
suite of songs that also makes sense for this year. He's not partying
like it's 1999; instead, he's taken the end of the year, the decade,
the century, the millennium as an occasion for self-examination.
That said, 'hours' is far from Bowie's most ambitious album, either
musically or thematically -- at least on its most obvious level. He and
his cowriter, guitarist Reeves Gabrels, have created a lush, luxuriant
pop music over which Bowie's vocals float, as if he were lost in
thought. The album's first single, "Thursday's Child," epitomizes the
restrained emotional power of their approach.
Throughout his career, Bowie has unpredictably moved back and forth
between accessibility and abstruseness, between abrasiveness and pop
accessibility. 'Hours' finds him easy to reach, a man of accomplishment
exploring his past and wondering what, if anything, it all means.
A month after Nine Inch Nails make the best David Bowie album of the
year, the dame isn't quite feeling himself. Bowie and co-writer Reeves
Gabrels haven't sounded so confused about where they fit in the
contemporary rock soundscape since the late '80s. "Thursday's Child"
timidly tosses pop to a hairdresser's quartet of backing vocalists. The
monotone "Something in the Air" tries to involve us in heartbreak with
lines like "Abracadoo, I lose you." The singer says he's consciously
attempting to write for his generation, but "New Angels of Promise"
blandly advertises a video game. He may intermittently wander into town
like a sacred cow, but when he inhabits the skin of the ordinary Joe,
he just sounds ordinary. Lacking a big idea, hours... is a tired
retread of love lost, times regained and, on the din machine of "The
Pretty Things Are Going to Hell," the prettiest thing sounds bored with
it all. Only "Survive" - a mash note to Jagger's "naked eyes" - fully
titillates. If they can send John Glenn back into space, can't Major
Tom get up there too?
David Bowie is feeling reflective and his newest album, hours..., well,
reflects this. Taking it down a few notches since the techno Earthling
and his gritty work with Nine Inch Nails, Bowie has gotten back to
basics. He's gone soft(er) -- in the sense that heís not doing
any uber-dark, edgy, "I'm Afraid of Americans" or danceable "Dead Man
Walking" kind of music. On hours..., he's a man who's taking stock of
his life and writing low-key, poetic songs about his discoveries. The
artist formerly known as Ziggy Stardust has ten pensive tracks full of
regret about lost love and lost opportunity, but from a mature man's
perspective. David Bowie is 52-years-old after all, so maturity isn't
surprising. Perhaps wisdom would be a better term to express the theme
of hours..... Side note: ironically, with this wisdom, the always
brilliant Bowie looks even younger than usual, with his new soft
longish mop of layered brown hair and understated clothes (changing his
look often is just one of the qualities that's made Bowie such an
interesting artist over the years).
Packaged with Bowie's middle-aged wisdom is a large dose of melancholia
and subtlety. A seductive sadness permeates hours.... Nothing exactly
clobbers you over the head here, but rather, the album seeps into your
system instead. "Thursday's Child" is a soulful song about a fresh
start after a life of failures: "All of my life I've tried so
hard/Doing my best with what I had/Nothing much happened all the same."
"Something in the Air" is a moody rock ballad about mislaid love: "We
used what we could/ To get the things we want/ But we lost each other
on the way/ I guess you know I never wanted anyone but you." "Survive"
is in the same love lost vein. And for that matter so is "If I'm
Dreaming of My Life."
"Seven" is about facing mortality: "I've got seven ways to live my
life/ Or seven ways to die." 'What's Really Happening" sounds like
early Bowie. He's exhibiting a vocal style here we haven't heard
lately, maybe not since the "Fame" era. hours... is then infused with a
mini-rock shock with "The Pretty Things Are Going to Hell." Could this
be Bowie's musical retrospective on his glam phase, and a statement on
how he's just happy to have survived? "You're still breathing but you
don't know why/ Life's a bit and sometimes you die/ You're still
breathing but you just can't tell/ Don't hold your breath but all the
pretty things are going to hell." The strongest track on the album is
"The Dreamers." It throbs and it soars. When his voice takes off in
that "Heroes" mode, nothing compares. "The Dreamers" is a poignant tale
of a man who's missed his chance: "So it goes," he sings passionately.
Let's be grateful David Bowie didnít actually miss his chance.
Never mind the premillennium panic, David Bowie seems to be saying on
Hours . . ., let's try plaintive instead. Bowie's twenty-third album is
as nakedly emotive a collection as anything in his iconic catalog; it's
a summary statement from the man who invented postmodern rock &
roll, so school is in session. But teacher is more concerned with
baring wounds than with making big statements: "The pretty things are
going to hell/They wore it out, but they wore it well" is as big as it
gets. The sentiment sounds chucked from Johnny Rotten's diary, almost a
kiss-off to the rock era. Bowie is probably the only cat around with
the history, irony and distance to deliver that lyric as self-critique,
death sentence, fond reminiscence and party favor all at the same time.
Cranking the guitars up some would have made the Sex Pistols analogy
more palpable, but it would have taken away from the album's general
air of effervescent melancholy. Hours . . . contains that quite
bearable lightness of being that comes with Bowie's position as a
relevant older rock star. Having done his bit for future primitivism on
his previous two conceptually frenzied outings, Outside and Earthling,
Bowie brings the curtain down on the century with a collection of songs
that are just, well, hunky-dory. Members of the fan base will also hear
echoes of Ziggy, Aladdin Sane, Heroes, Low and even Tin Machine. First
and foremost, though, the introspection of Hours . . . is a testament
to the serenity that comes with legend status, maturity and endurance.
As was the case with Miles Davis in jazz, Bowie has come not just to
represent his innovations but to symbolize modern rock as an idiom in
which literacy, art, fashion, style, sexual exploration and social
commentary can be rolled into one. While this isn't an idea without its
heirs apparent -- the names Corgan, Reznor and Manson come to mind --
Bowie makes it all seem so damn easy.
Hours . . . wafts into the room, breezily delivers its angsty
arabesques and afterlife lullabies, and then luminously bows out in a
succinct 45:42. Confessional highlights include "Survive," with its
fragile failed paramour, and "Thursday's Child," about a life of
despair saved by true love. On these songs, Bowie's voice, darker and
woodier in timbre than usual and on the verge of tears, strains over
music gently suggestive of elevator Philly soul and the ghost of
Phillipe Wynn: "Shuffling days and lonesome nights/Sometimes my courage
fell to my feet/Lucky old sun is in my sky/Nothing prepared me for your
smile."
As always, Bowie's eccentric sense of melody twists around the ear like
a space oddity, getting under the skin, plucking the heartstrings and
stirring up feelings of alienation we never knew we had. Bowie's
longtime partner in crime, guitarist Reeves Gabrels, takes a co-writer
credit on everything here. Their fertile collaboration yields settings
full of atmosphere, spunk, grit and nuance; Hours . . . is an album
that improves with each new hearing. Just when all the pretty young
things might have thought their world was safe from Jurassic intrusion,
here comes Bowie, staking an unshakable claim on rock's brave next
world. Hours . . . is further confirmation of Richard Pryor's
observation that they call them old wise men because all them young
wise men are dead.
David Bowie reflektiert den Prozeß des Älterwerdens. Eine
Selbstanalyse, an deren Ende das eigene Sein als große Lüge
enttarnt wird und wenig Platz für Euphorie bleibt. Dabei
beschreibt Bowie aber nicht sich selbst, sondern fängt das
allgemeine Gefühl seiner Generation ein. Er selbst fühlt sich
nur jung, er will auch so klingen, wie der junge Bowie. Folglich
orientiert sich "Hours" an seiner vielleicht besten Phase, den
"Berliner Jahren" 1977 bis 1980 und an so einem Meilenstein wie 'Low'.
"Hours" kündet vom selben Nihilismus, hat sie selben
großartigen Gitarren und den selben akzentuierten Gesang.
Markenzeichen, die dieses Album mit zum besten machen, was David Bowie
in den letzten Jahren hervorgebracht hat.
All of my life I've tried so hard
Doing my best with what I had
Nothing much happened all the same
Something about me stood apart
A whisper of hope that seemed to fail
Maybe I'm born right out of my time
Breaking my life in two
(Throw me tomorrow..oh,oh)
Now that I've really got a chance
(Throw me tomorrow..oh,oh)
Everything's falling into place
(Throw me tomorrow..oh,oh)
Seeing my past to let it go
(Throw me tomorrow..oh,oh)
Only for you I don't regret
That I was Thursday's Child
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday born I was (x2)
Sometimes I cried my heart to sleep
Shuffling days and lonesome nights
Sometimes my courage fell to my feet
Lucky old sun is in my sky
Nothing prepared me for your smile
Lighting the darkness of my soul
Innocence in your arms
(Throw me tomorrow..oh,oh)
Now that I've really got a chance
(Throw me tomorrow..oh,oh)
Everything's falling into place
(Throw me tomorrow..oh,oh)
Seeing my past to let it go
(Yeah, throw me tomorrow..oh,oh)
Only for you I don't regret
That I was Thursday's Child
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday born I was Thursday's Child
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday born I was Thursday's Child
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday born I was
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday born I was
SOMETHING IN THE AIR
Your coat and hat are gone
I really can't look at your little empty shelf
A ragged teddy bear
It feels like we never had a chance
Don't look me in the eye
We lay in each other's arms
But the room is just an empty space
I guess we lived it out
Something in the air
We smile too fast
Then can't think of a thing to say
Lived with the best times
Left with the worst
Danced with you too long
Nothing left to save
Let's take what we can
I know you'll hold your head up high
We've raged for the last time
A place of no return
And there's something in the air
Something in my eye
I've danced with you too long
Yeah
Something in the air
Something in my eye
Abracadoo, I lose you
We can't avoid the clash, the big mistake
Now we're going to pay and pay
The sentence of our lives
Can't believe I'm asking you to go
We used what we could
To get the things we want
But we lost each other on the way
I guess you know I never wanted anyone more than you
Lived all our best times
Left with the worst
I've danced with you too long
Say what you will
There's something in the air
Raged for the last time
But I know you'll hold your head up high
There's nothing we have to say
There's nothing in our eyes
But there's something in the air
Something in my eye
I danced with you too long
There's something I have to say
There's something in the air
Something in my eye
I've danced with you too long
Danced with you too long
Danced with you too long
And there's something in the air
Something in the air
SURVIVE
Oh, my
Naked eyes
I should have kept you
I should have tried
I should have been a wiser kind of guy
I miss you
Give me wings
Give me space
Give me money for a change of face
Those noisy rooms and passion pants
I loved you
Where's the morning in my life?
Where's the sense in staying right?
Who said 'time is on my side'?
I've got ears and eyes and nothing in my life
But I'll survive your naked eyes
I'll survive
You alone across the floor
You and me and nothing more
You're the great mistake I never made
I never lied to you, I hated when you lied
But I'll survive your naked eyes
I'll survive
Beatle boys, all snowy white
Razzle dazzle clubs, every night
Wish I'd sent a Valentine
I love you
VERSE (there)
Was she never there/here?
Was she ever?
Was it air she breathed?
At the wrong time
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
All the flowers so
From the gallery
With the hymns of night
Singing "Come to Me"
CHORUS
At the wrong time
On the wrong day
All the lights are fading now
If I'm dreaming all my life (x2 second time)
Just one living chance
When the mother sighs
When the father steps aside
At the wrong time
Oh-oh
VERSE (here)
CHORUS
Was she ever?
Was she ever here?
If I'm dreaming all my life
If I'm dreaming all my life away
Dreaming my life
Dreaming my
Dreaming my
Dreaming my
Dreaming my life
Dreaming my life away
Oh-oh
REPEAT
Dreaming my life
Dreaming my
Dreaming my life away
Oh-oh
SEVEN
I forgot what my father said
I forgot what he said
I forgot what my mother said
As we lay upon your bed
A city full of flowers
A city full of rain
I got seven days to live my life
Or seven ways to die
I forgot what my brother said
I forgot what he said
I don't regret anything at all
I remember how we wept
On a bridge of violent people
I was small enough to cry
I got seven days to live my life
Or seven ways to die
Hold my face before you
Still my trembling heart
Seven days to live my life
Or seven ways to die
The gods forgot they made me
So I forget them too
I listen to the shadows
I play among their graves
My heart was never broken
My patience never tried
I got seven days to live my life
Or seven ways to die
Seven days to live my life
Or seven ways to die
Seven (repeat ad lib)
WHAT'S REALLY HAPPENING?
VERSE (x2)
Grown inside a plastic box
Micro thoughts and safety locks
Hearts become outdated clocks
Ticking in your mind
CHORUS
What's really happening? What tore us apart?
What's really happening?
What's really happening? What tore us apart?
What's really happening?
Now it's time to close our eyes
Now it's time to say goodbye
Now it's time to face the lie
That we'd never cry
CHORUS
All the clouds are made of glass
And they're slowly sinking
Falling like the shattered past
Were we built to last?
CHORUS
THE PRETTY THINGS ARE GOING TO HELL
What to do
What to say
What to wear on a sunny day
Who to phone
Who to fight
Who to dance with on a Sunday night
Reaching the very edge, you know
Reaching the very edge
Going to the other side this time
Reaching the very edge
CHORUS
You're still breathing but you don't know why
Life's a bit and sometimes you die
You're still breathing but you just can't tell
Don't hold your breath but the pretty things are going to hell
I am a drug
I am a dragon
I am the best jazz you've ever seen
I am a dragon
I am the sky
I am the blood at the corner of your eye
I found the secrets, I found gold
I find you out before you grow old
I find you out before you grow old
What is eternal?
What is damned?
What is clay and what is sand?
Who to dis?
Who to truss?
Who to listen to?
Who to suss?
I'm reaching the very edge, you know
I'm reaching the very edge
I'm going to the other side this time
I'm reaching the very edge
CHORUS
I am a dragon
I am a drug
I am the best jazz you've ever heard
I am a dragon
I am the sky
I am the blood at the corner of your eye
I found the secrets, I found gold
I find you out before you grow old
I find you out before you grow old
REPEAT (4x)
The pretty things are going to hell
They wore it out but they wore it well
You're still breathing but you don't know why
You're still breathing but you just can't tell
Don't hold your breath but the pretty things are going to hell
NEW ANGELS OF PROMISE
VERSE 1
New angels of promise
We despair
We are the dead dreams
We take the blame
Take us to the edge of time
Take us to the edge of time
We are the fabulous lovers
I am a blind man
She is my eyes
CHORUS (x2)
Suspicious minds
You didn't feel us coming in this lonely crowd
It's always time
VERSE 2
New angels of promise
We despise
Don't fall apart now
We are the silent ones
Take us to the edge of time
Take us to the edge of time
We are the tabular lovers
We listen to the strorm
CHORUS (x2)
VERSE 1
CHORUS (x2)
It's always time (repeat)
THE DREAMERS
Black eyed ravens
They spiral down
They tilt his head back
To the flame filled sunset
Raise their guns high
As the darken falls
These are the days boys
Shallow man
Shallow man... and they
Eats in the doorway
With his head inclined
And he's always in decline
No-one heals anymore
So he shrinks as they ride
Under vermillion sky
So it goes
Just a searcher
A lonely soul
The last of the dreamers
Shallow man
Shallow man
Speaks to the shadows
Moves his trembling hands
And he's always a little late
For the dawning of the day
So it goes
Just a searcher
Lonely soul
The last of the dreamers