1. |
city country
06:31
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off the lake of alewifes
in a suburban backyard
my good friend shoots a possum
feeds it to his child
the country's coming back to
take the cities in
we issued from a grassland
not from hard ce-ment
one hundred thrift-store novels
distilled on the shelf
sawdust self-help manuals
radiate dishealth
(for you and your family)
i get my satisfaction
from my boot heels held
hard upon the pavement
stay at cheap hotels,
living in thanksgiving
for everything around
join in conversation
with all its little sounds
uttered by our jawbones
uttered by our lungs
enunciated freedoms of
that world you long for
we can sit and argue (if you wanna)
about paradise
plan it out forever
in our pant-suit ties
but to get a little lawless
it can feel real nice
this machine kills facists
and stops corporate crimes
the country's coming back to
take the cities in
it echoes out the futures
of our naturalness
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2. |
displacement
04:02
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wind in the branches the forest's breath
trunks and roots historians
bark is skin the vellum and vein
stretched tight like a drum
on a wooden frame,
i sound
on the trail : the trek : orbit : path
see a phantomesque reflection cast
and an utterance in remembrance:
hey, it's you!
you're the rosy rusts in the bottom
of the fireweed's guts;
you're a smoky ruin
whistling a tune
and it goes a bit like this...
1
root rot
cabbage
magpie
branches
soot-ash
rabbit
raven
salmon
2
talus
needing
darkling
beetle
lichen
boulder
couloir
shoulder
i ring like a string
with the songs of the earth
oh, sympathetic tones
of a well-known verse i hear
and i'd like to keep on hearing
my progress is not your growth
my progress doesn't need a motor
but my head needs silence
like a lung needs breath, like the soul needs love
and the body needs rest
i fear
hearing silence disappear
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3. |
reservation blues
05:16
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i've got these reservation blues;
drive my pickup down the road
breathe the dust of sorrows
someone sold my songs today,
though i didn't want to
but when the sun comes up tomorrow
i'm gonna dance these blues away
someone's pickin' at the scabs of my blues
and at the Wounded Knee
hear the church bells toll
hear the rifles roll
|~~~~~~~~~~~~
i'm left here all by myself without
the winds to guide me without my family ties
i'll grow into the soil i'm more like
i've got these reservation blues
won't you naturalize me?
i don't want to be a weed
though the name sure suits me
when i sleep at night i dream
an american dream
and it has nothing to do
nothing to do with prosperity
when i dream i see the council of the gods
sitting at deliberations
and when i look up in the sky i see
wakinyan
soaring high above me
when i look into his eye
i'm struck down by a bolt of lighting,
heyoka
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4. |
i praise homeless gods
06:53
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drivin' down highway 94
past the mississippi and Mmssouri shores
see the holy pilgrims wavin' their signs
symbols of their visions on a cardboard fragment
lined up by the off-ramp of a Flying J
fair Goddess of Release on their minds
like so much of this nation's imagery she
wandered out of a Grecian tragedy
in a simple white gown
that's covered in dust
and a countenance that inspires trust
open your hands up Lady Soverign!
take away all i've ever known!
you shape me best 'cause i'm easy lonely
your feverish touch rests in my bones
she's blowing out candles
and topping out the lung
blowing the tops off the mountain domes
pulling down the shutters
and the wool on our eyes
locking up rivers in the winter's ice
who could describe how the jaw greets the tongue
and whenceforth erupts like a fiery scald?
the glittering smile of a glasswork skull
fair Goddess of Release on our minds
blow me out my Lady Soverign!
dampen down this lusty flame!
hollow out a shallow gravesite
where i can lay down my frame
the parking lot crowds are crying out loud
wave crumpled amendments in their sweaty palms
she's stuttering out symphonies
for her ragged adherents
in their gross sunglasses
their grotesque appearances
stopping up traffic by the side of the road
kneeling down to their devotions of prayer
they say we've been wanderin' for a long long time
doldrums of dreaming 'bout capital trusts
now we're walking in lockstep with the divine
down the Ganges River of the American West
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5. |
party
04:39
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soon
we will find
that the fires have declined
their lights grow dim
the cherubim breathe
upon the embers
who could describe
if a swallow, as it flies, likes the skies?
how could you know?
winds forever blow
and in the end of our times
the swollen eyelid will confine
the dusty gravel stones
on the surface of the road
and the fens will overflow
over the saddles and the shoulders
of that road;
it will wash away!
all the asphalt
the silty sands
little pebbles and the gley and the clay
it will wash away!
and when our times are done
songs in that ancient-future tongue
of the winterland
will tell that spring has come
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6. |
alaskan folk dance
02:22
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Simon Piler Alaska
Write us! We love to get a letter:
Simon Piler and The Atom Band
PO Box 147
Cantwell AK
99729
bluehomerecords (at) protonmail (dot) com
Simon Piler recommends:
Everyone Remixes
by Gregg Oakley
every bit as fresh as the original! moon-drenched truth remix; thank you, Gregg!
go to album
Exercises in Futility
by The Fig Mints (of Your Imagination)
you can't beat the raw energy and wit: one of my favorite homemade records ever - thanks, Bobby!
go to album
Tea Service: Thyme
by S. Hollis Mickey
very interesting and peaceful; you'll likely enjoy the scene Hollis sets
go to albumIf you like Simon Piler, you may also like:
Epic, immersive songs that you disappear into, with rich layers of keys and ghostly vocal melodies conjuring a misty dreamworld.
go to album
The Birds Outside Sang
by Florist
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jan 19, 2016
go to album
Irish singer-songwriter Oisin Leech's acoustic folk music is characterized by its muted beauty and intimate, solitary quality.
go to album
