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Peter Hammill: The Claim (After The Storm)

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Virgin Records
Released: 1993
Time:
 75:49
Category: Progressive Rock
Producer(s): Peter Hammill
Rating:
Media type: CD
Web address: www.sofasound.com
Appears with: Van der Graaf Generator, David Jackson
Purchase date: 2000.10.23
Price in €: 12,99





 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] Shell (Peter Hammill) - 3:44
[2] Not For Keith (Peter Hammill) - 5:12
[3] Rain 3am (Peter Hammill) - 4:43
[4] Just Good Friends (Peter Hammill) - 4:12
[5] (On Tuesday's She Used To Do)Yoga (Peter Hammill) - 6:01
[6] Shingle Song (Peter Hammill) - 4:45
[7] Faith (Peter Hammill) - 3:12
[8] Dropping The Torch (Peter Hammill) - 4:59
[9] After The Show (Peter Hammill) - 6:32
[10] Stranger Still (Peter Hammill) - 2:18
[11] If I Could (Peter Hammill) - 3:14
[12] Wilhelmina (Peter Hammill) - 3:44
[13] Again (Peter Hammill) - 4:53
[14] Been Alone So Long (Smith) - 3:55
[15] Ophelia (Peter Hammill) - 4:22
[16] Autumn (Peter Hammill) - 3:58
[17] Sleep Now (Peter Hammill) -  3:57

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l



PETER HAMMILL - Vocals, Keyborads

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


This cd comprises basically Hammill's calmed songs from almost all of his solo carreer. Excellent. Its counterpart, called the storm, is also a very good record filled with aggressive progressive songs.

The track "Rain 3 a.m." is available only on this album.
 

 L y r i c s


SHELL

Turn a card, turn a page, the action
  sure to start, second-stage reaction
  to illogical thoughts on random lines
in a Borges dream we move toward
  the writing of lives.

Leave it out, leave it in, no edits  -
with a shout, with a grin I said
  it was a certainty that I'd arrive
  in an Escher sketch we walk around
  the drawing of lines.

The character uncertainty
as he contemplates his lot
and tries to move with urgency
though he's rooted to the spot.

On the brink, on the edge, but lately
  what I think, what I said escapes me
in a flash, a tiger burning bright
does the visionary trance obscure
  the burgeoning night?

And she said "What are you doing?"
And he said "What do you think?"
Oh, no,
what on earth are we doing?

The characters procrastinate
  on the threshold of the door;
there's something here that fascinates,
though the meaning's still unsure
and the plot so thick...
is it some kind of history?
Sketch the thumbnail to the quick.
Oh, even though it's full of contradiction,
though it's flawed in the design
this is no fiction, it's a lifeline.

Here we are, there we went, full circle
shooting stars, heaven-sent, turned turtle
on the beach are shells are left behind
life a library, like a memory
  of our ghost-written lives.


NOT FOR KEITH

In Germany, his days finally caught him;
I won't insult his memory with long-distance grief.
Tears and wakes weren't his style: not him,
        not for Keith.

He'd have laughed in my face if he saw it get mournful,
he'd pull me up short and say "Life carries on"
in that gentle way of being cruelly scornful...
        now he's gone.

"I want to see it all, and eat it"
was as close to ethos as he came;
though he knew he couldn't beat it,
he never gave of himself anything less than best
        in the game.
        Oh, one of the game...

I never did say, I never quite found time:
he taught me a lot, and I carry it still.
Never thanked him at all for his friendship
        and now I never will.

The diaries we write are those that we crave for,
we never put the P.S. at the foot of the final page.
He deserved more time, but he never was made for
        middle age,
        not for middle age.
        Not for Keith.


RAIN, 3 A.M.

(extra track on Virgin compilation "The Calm")

Spitting drops of rain flow down
and touch my cheek,
intermingling with my tears
as I silently weep.
Then the fatality of life
presses close and probes in my eyes....
And I'm cold and hungry tonight.
        
These great black walls of brickwork
bow low and oppress my mind
like the words of people
I thought I'd left far behind;
the presence of the words and walls
is too close and it's far too clear
as the rain keeps washing through my tears,
as the rain just washes through my tears.
        
A drunk looks out at me and he quickly turns away;
he's hiding deep inside himself
all the ritual of this strange play.
There's no-one else upon the street,
just this dying old drunk and me
and the cat that's hiding in the tree.
        
My memory stretches back,
as I continue to cry,
to places where I went wrong,
although I still don't know quite why.
The flashing neon signsd proclaim
"All is void where the human lives"
and in the darkness no-one forgives.
        
And in the darkness no-one forgives.


JUST GOOD FRIENDS

Drawing back the curtains,
sluggish city daylight in the afternoon...
Here's that special silence,
just before you walk out of the hotel room.
Each time we're so close I assume
that we'll never be again -
oh, how long can we pretend
that we're just good friends?

A casual affair is all that you can spare
from your emotional change;
A calendar of meetings,
strangers on the street
the best we ever arrange.
Now I just can't stand all the pain,
all the constant make and mend;
how long must we pretend
that we're just good friends?

I gave you my devotion,
hiding nothing up my sleeve -
If I walked clean out of your life
would you even notice me leave?
So much tangled-up emotion,
should I stay or should I go?
If I walked clean out of your life
how long would it take you know?
Are we such good friends?

You used to say 'I love you',
you used to say 'You make me
feel alive and young';
now we're just a habit, a flavour,
one a month,
to titillate your tongue.
How sordid this has become
as the means approach the end -
Oh, how long can we pretend
that we're still good friends?


(ON TUESDAY SHE USED TO DO) YOGA

On Tuesday she used to do yoga,
while I'd sit and watch the box
in a vegetable way
but always ready to say
to myself that I was an artist
implying that she was not.

It's funny the way that self-pity
can take over from self-esteem -
well, I was the prince of pride,
and though I'd cheat I never lied,
as if that were enough to make her happy,
as if that could satisfy her dreams.

Too late now to say that I'm so sorry,
too late to say that I can change and mend
the things that hurt... she didn't need to worry,
she always knew I'd get there in the end.

Now I'm tying myself up in contortions,
don't know if yoha will do me any good.
It's about time I tried, though I'd rather be inside
from the cold, studing tantra -
still, I never did that when I could.

I never did the things that really mattered,
there seemes to be some key I couldn't find
to unlock myself;
I could have done it with her help,
but I was to busy scrabbling for each moment -
now I don't know what I did with all the time.

Sometimes I'd play the wild rover
sometimes I'd just get smashed all day...
on Tuesday she used to do yoga,
on Tuesday she went away.


SHINGLE SONG

You can see in the 1st light that's graced as dawn
that there's nothing in my heart but pain
as I stand, facing sea, knowing that you're gone
all the elements rage to explain
that I should really be on my way;
but there is something
which ensures I must stay.

Beneath the roar of the seething surf,
beneath the caterwaul of scattered call wind
thoughts and gestures unspoken, unheard--
and now the dance of rapture begins
as the waves rush along across the beach:
like you, like your love
forever out of reach.

Look at the sky, but it's empty now;
look at the sea, it holds nothing but despair.
I raise my eyes, but my head stays bower...
I look to my side, but you're not there.
And I can't get you out of my mind,
no, no, no, no, I just can't get you from my mind.


FAITH

Each moment is precious
those that I spend with you are a prize -
I count myself lucky just being alive
while you're in my eyes.

CH.    Seeing's believing and I believe in you
    I can't conceal it, just what I feel for you.
    Seeing's believing, I know that you'll see me through.
        I believe in you
        I have faith in you
        I put my faith in you, faith in you, faith in you.

Doubt casts its shadow
on every perfect plan that is made
but I'll be beside you
through those dark days -
I'll be with you come what may...

CH.

Don't let me down,
now that I've fallen completely for you.


DROPPING THE TORCH

We play games and every move
is noted down as a subsequent cause
and effectively chains our freedom and will to live:
we settle in to simple survival,
hanging on our pleasures grimly...
we must never let them go...

Our prison walls are slowly built,
stone by stone and day by day
no provision for escape,
entombed alive in safety
and decay.

Time sets around us in killing frames,
black border round our names.
Our fingers lose their grip
and the torch slips.

The enemy for everyone
is everyone, inside -
I feel the hand of security
creep on me with ice-cold fingers
and crush my flower of freedom;
I've lost the course of my adventure,
all things I'm meant to do are lost.

There is only one flame each
to keep alive in the wind.
but finally we snuff them out
all by ourselves.

We set traps and, in the end,
fall into our own snares
and have nowhere to go.

Time ever moves more slowly:
life gets more lonely
and less real.


AFTER THE SHOW

He made a bit of money,
That's something you might like to know
He'll be drinking in the cafe on the corner
After the show

He's been so many people
he wore them all like poisoned vests
still playing the soliloquy from Hamlet
close to his chest.

Where do the actors go
after the show?
Where do the actors go?

He had his hour of glory,
that's something you should keep in mind
When he's drinking in the cafe on the corner
there's no sense of time
just waiting on for Godot,
convinced he's been here years before...
he's taken that philosophy in German
square on the jaw

Where do the actors go
after the show?
Where do the actors go?

He made a bit of money
that's something you might like to know
he'll be drinking in the cafe on the corner
after the show

Where do the actors go
after the show?
Where do the actors go?


STRANGER STILL

Stranger still in another town,
how normal to sit out the dance,
eating the good meal by myself,
toasting the empty glass;
and they're already setting out
        the next place,
already forgetting about the last.
No, nothing could be less strange
in entropy
no change, no change, no change.
No danger in a normal life,
better steady down the adrenalin pump.
Excess refraction in the mirror
only leads to the quantum jump...
Oh, but it leaves me in limbo;
how strange, what a stranger I become.
No, no, nothing could be less strange
in entropy
no change, no change, no change.

No, I know how to behave
in the restaurant now,
I don't tear at the meat with my hands;
if I've become a man of the world somehow
that's not necessarily to say
I'm a worldly man.

Keep on shuffling the menu
and the order never comes on time.
No, there's only diffraction patterns,
no reading between the lines;
only the rate of emission,
and reason allows no rime.
Nothing could be less strange
in entropy
no change, no change, no change.
No, nothing could be less strange...

Entropy...
    ... a stranger, a worldly man.


IF I COULD

You must be crazy to stay here,
and i'll be crazy when you go;
though there's so much I want to tell you
all the words come out too slow
I've been locked in my problems...
you seemed prepared to wait.
Now that i know I'm gonna lose you
all the words come out too late.
There's no promise i can give you that you wouldn't know was fake;
though I just want to be with you, there's no show that I can make.
And in the morning, when I wake and find you dressing
I can tell that it's on your mind to go for good;
I know that all this time I've kept you guessing,
but I'd tell you if I could.

If I now say that I love you
how will that seem in your eyes?
Oh, may my voice fall into silence
if my words turn out to be lies.
I never meant to hurt you,
even though that's what I do-
even though you might not believe this
all my words were meant for you.
There's no promise i can give you that you wouldn't know was fake;
though I just want to be with you, there's no show that I can make.
And in the evening, when we sit and watch the TV
I know that this silence just won't do me any good
and I want to beg you, beg you, beg you to believe me...
I'd tell you if i could,
I'd tell you if I could.


WILHELMINA

Willie, what can I say to you to hold true in
your changing life?  You've come into a cruel
world : little girls can lose their way in the
growing night ----- I hope you'll be alright.

Willie, try to stay a child sometime, for as long
as you feel you can learn.  Babies all turn to
people, and people can really be strange : they
change and, changing, bring pain.

Try to treat your parents well because they care,
and what more can you do?
When you find your lovers, be good to them as
you hope they'll be to you ------
be honest,
be true.

Willie, you are the future; all our lives, in the end,
are in your hands.  Life's hard now --- you know,
it gets harder, and hope is but a single strand;
we pass it on and hope you'll understand....

We know that we do it wrong, we're not so strong
and not so sure at all; groping in our blindness,
we may seem big now but, really, we're so small
and alone and searching for a home
          in the night.

Meanwhile you're still a baby; you'll be a lady
soon enough and then you will feel the burn.
So hold my words : people all turn to children,
spiteful children, and they're really so cruel...
        cruel fools!
Just follow your own rules -------
don't think that I'm silly, Willie,
if I say I hope that there is hope for you.


AGAIN

I stretch my hands,
clutch vacant laughter
in silence and sweet, sweet pain;
without demand,
but with a longing
for what will never come again.

I smell your perfume
on the sheets in the morning--
it linger like the patterns
on the window after rain,
a past that lives,
if only for th epresent...
which is gone and will never come again.

to your sad eyes,
turned away, mine say
'Do you? Did you? How?'
As the darkness
slides away the day
shows what was
and makes what is now.

I see your picture
as though it were a mirror
but there's no part of you
outside the frame
except the change that you game to me:
this will never come again.

I am me,
I was so before you,
but afterwards I am not the same.
You are gone
and I am with you:
    this will never come again.


BEEN ALONE SO LONG

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what it's like
to feel somebody next to me
and hear her breathing peacefully
when I wake up at night.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what to say--
if I meet somebody who
might easily resemble you
I smile, but look away...
    I look away.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what to do:
how to make the whole thing right
and how to help if she's uptight
and when to run and when to fight...
how to make her stay the night--
that's if I ever knew.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what it's like
to feel somebody next to me
and hear her breathing peacefully
when I wake up at night
       wake up at night


OPHELIA

That token drag on your cigarette,
that well-known face in the fire,
it could be someone you can't forget,
someone you've learnt to admire.
    And it's strange
    how the feeling goes;
    all change -
down the river Ophelia goes.

You're treading water, the price is steep,
you say you'll cope with it all;
you've made some promises you can't keep,
you throw yourself against the wall,
you throw yourself against the wall.
    And it's strange...

You heard a noise in the firegrate,
you look to see who goes there -
it's just the stranger, he's come too late
and even he's unprepared
to find the cupboard so bare
    And it's strange...
down the river Ophelia goes.


AUTUMN

So here we are, alone -
our children have grown up and moved away,
living their own lives, they say...
It all seems very strange to me.

I don't understand their ways:
our children amaze me all the time
and I often wonder why they make me feel
so sad, and suddenly old.

Now we're left with an empty home,
from our nest all the birds have flown for foreign skies.
We're discarded, of no further use,
though we gave our kids all our youth and all our live
    - we really tried.

Now there's only my wife and me;
we used to have a family - now that's gone
and only memories linger on...
it all seems very wrong to me.

To our sorrow they were quite deaf
and as soon as they could they left us to our tears.
We always tried to teach what was good -
yes, we gave our kids all we could through all the years.

So here we are at last;
the time has gone so fast and so have my dreams.
I simply don't know what it all means,
this pointless passage through the night,
this autumn-time, this walk upon the water...

I wonder how long
it will be till this song
is sung by our own sons and daughters?


SLEEP NOW

Sleep now, another day in your young lives is done,
go to sleep now; tomorrow brave new worlds
will surely come, go to sleep;
you're such a wonder, such a mystery to me.
Somewhere your future friends are lying as you are
and your lovers right now are only crying babes in arms
oh, the world turns under our feet, our lives are passing by
    in our sleep.

So soon you'll be gone to that wide world
the tunes of adulthood calling little girls.

Remember, whatever else in life you find to doubt,
do remember, although you hear him mostly in a shout,
your father loves you
as though he never knew the meaning of the words until just now.

So soon you'll be gone to that wide world
one tune of childhood I sing my little girls....

Sleep now, one day I'll tell you how my life has been.
Oh, so strange to think your eyes will fall on things
that mine have never seen, these eyes that gently flicker
    in some lost childhood dream.
Sleep now, safe and warm in the haven of your bed,
go to sleep now....although you won't remember what I've said,
your father loves you
as though he never knew the meaning of the words until just now,
as though he never knew the meaning of the words.

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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