1. |
Noise
00:20
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"The time you share with someone is the only thing that has a value" - Jacques Attali
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2. |
Sand Hill Road
04:24
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The radio ain't what it used to be
We found some new ways to relate
Our hero learned to write the special code
She moved to Oakland in the spring of '98
Her crew set out to launch their rocket ship
They had some pages to create
She had her five-word speech prepared well in advance
Her foosball table was a hot bed of debate
The veins of molten gold
Flowed down from Sand Hill Road
And turned the stones at the mill
We're turning the world around
Gonna topple the king, gonna wear the crown
And go to packet-switched browser-based b2b interfaced
Industry Standard rooftop parties
Her grandpa set lead type at the New York Post
Her mom sells ad time on TV
When you move west you must expect the most
And turn this world into the one you want to see
The veins of molten gold
Flowed down from Sand Hill Road
And turned the stones at the mill
We're turning the world upside down
Gonna topple the king, gonna wear the crown
and throw open source dodgeball vodka-themed ice sculpture
Topica-sponsored Twister parties
We're turning the world upside down
Gonna topple the king, gonna wear the crown
with on-demand real-time single-sign-on double-blind
peer-to-peer A/B-tested Make Out Room parties
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3. |
Smash the Icons
04:09
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Emperor Leo wrote to Greg the pope.
Hey Greg, this finds you well, I hope,
now let's purge our culture of figurative sculpture.
Smash the icons, smash 'em in bits
Smash up Christ, smash the cross
Smash the saints, smash Mary,
Smash, smash the icons
Greg drives around in a poped-out Prius,
subwoofer thumping out Ave Marias.
He's got the best apartment in all of Rome.
He put down the letter, he picked up the phone.
Leo, it's a statue, look at his arms -
man, look at his face.
It's got mortal pain and it's got divine grace.
And while I've got you here,
that Lombardian army that I mentioned before
is getting close to our gates,
and our exarchate could use some defense
which you, being emperor, ought to supply.
While me, being pope, I'll need to discuss
these cultural treasures you're turning to dust.
And Leo said, my army is in Syria, that's a mighty long walk,
but bust up some statues, and then we'll talk.
I wouldn't get too hopeful.
And if you've got a date in Constantinople,
she'll be smashing. Icons.
Smash the icons, smash 'em in bits
Smash up Christ, smash the cross
Smash the saints, smash Mary,
Smash, smash the icons
Greg stood out on his balcony
watching some birds
take flight
over the Tiber
and said, I see what this is.
If he wouldn't do my job, I wouldn't do his.
Maybe I should go see the king of the Franks -
drive up in the Prius, come back with some tanks.
And Leo thought, Jesus, can the dude not read?
No engraved thingies,
that's rule number three.
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4. |
First the Rain
04:44
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Well you rode out from your home,
and you made yourself a good name,
and you traveled the world.
Still I understand you wonder whose banners you should fly.
While I dare not presume to speak for your heart,
you've been wise to ride without them, for a while.
You see, I've got friends who backed Constantine,
and I've got friends who backed Maxentius,
and I've got a few who switched sides along the way.
It's never best to let these civil wars define us,
brand you with a badge until your dying day,
So let the flags come down
Keep the colors grey
Not yet the rainbow, first the rain
The rain is cool, the rain is humble,
the rain falls mainly on the fence.
The rain brings life, the rain brings cover,
it keeps the enemy in his tents.
The rain will patter at your window,
while you sip your tea and write,
doing your life's work, keeping nimble.
The rain meets a seed lodged in the sand,
the seed greets the rain with a kiss,
and with the kiss becomes a tendril.
So let the flags come down
Keep the colors grey
Not yet the rainbow, first the rain
On the road to Camboritum there's a tavern full of ale
where the dog who's mostly wheaten has a whiter shade of tale
There's some sisters and their brothers, a philosopher on loan,
and a captain on the sea, and a pretender to the throne.
When the captain leaves the table and you reassess the crew
whoever wins your heart I'll lift my glass of Anchor Steam
from here, to yours, and you
Let the flags come down
Keep the colors grey
Not yet the rainbow, first the rain
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5. |
Opera House
03:10
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Do you remember how we got here to this opera house?
We took the streetcar over the bridge and
got a table by the window at the coffee house
then walked up the avenue holding hands
I remember when I sat down in this opera house
How the tenor came on in the first act
Big man with a swagger and a big voice
and every move that he made got a pretty good laugh
Act two, twitching in my seat some
plots within plots, palace intrigues
Mafiosi getting dragged off to prison
that little sidekick who sure could sing
Intermission in the lobby
I sipped my champagne, I nibbled my brie
I never doubted there'd be a grand finale number
I still imagined I had a ticket for a comedy
Act three, the knives come out
The big man sweats
The floor drops out
The blood flows red
The lights go out
The doors stay shut
If we ever walk out of this opera house
If I ever stand up from this chair
Will there even be a city outside here?
Will there still be anyone there?
In the tent on the corner by the park blocks
Will there still be anyone there?
Do you remember how we got here to this opera house?
We took the streetcar over the bridge and
got a table by the window at the coffee house
then walked up the avenue holding hands.
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6. |
Trolls
05:19
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I ran into a monster
He told me who was fat
Then he told me to buy these stocks
while the market is flat
and the moon is in a crescent
just above the barnyard gate
and you chase around the chickens
until you lose some of that weight
He said, "have you seen this lady on Twitter?
I found out where she lives. She won't know what hit her."
We called up the paper, tried to buy an ad,
and got to laughing about that old cartoonist they had
before they hauled away the presses and rented out the space
and the buffer for ideas disappeared without a trace
You're fairly sure you've got the most wit
You flirt with the truth, but then you ghost it
Just find a picture that's a close fit – close enough
Slap some words on top and post it
I'm just going down the road
and there's so many trolls
What happened between me and you?
If you get that shot you know you might not get the flu
Before this whole thing explodes
Someone tell me who released the trolls
What happened between me and you?
When I saw you last, we could still talk for a while
Riding in that van, mile after mile
I got home and turned on the debate
The guy in the coat just wants the bear to hibernate
The bear says the habitat has fairly gone to hell
I thought he might swipe the flag right off the other guy's lapel
Then the moon rose in a crescent just above the poisoned well
Are we all such bloody experts at blaming some else for our fate?
I made out with the truth but then I ghosted
Will you brew the mash I roasted?
I'm just going down the road
and there's so many trolls
Before this whole thing explodes
Tell me who released the trolls
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7. |
Bedtime in Paris
04:03
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Jacques Brel and his accordion snore quietly in "D"
Pierre Boulez is counting sheep duodecaphonically
For it's bedtime here in Paris
The Eiffel Tower stands there blinking
Boys are riding mopeds, and drinking.
Cabaret girls are kicking up their legs.
Yet it's bedtime here in Paris
Still it's bedtime here in Paris
The politicians have cigars
and they are making secret deals with the Kremlin.
The ambassador from Poland is sipping his third scotch.
If they were all asleep in bed, everyone would be a little safer.
The river goes by gently;
You can stand here on the bridge and watch.
For it's bedtime here in Paris
Getting later, here in Paris
The river goes by gently,
the night conductor is pocketing the fares.
The boys have put away their mopeds,
they are heading up their stairs.
Miss Nadia dreams of Lili, and settles in her bed.
Very soon the boulanger will be awake to start the bread.
And it's bedtime, here in Paris.
Yes it's bedtime, here in Paris.
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Camperdown House Portland, Oregon
Camperdown House is a project of songwriter John David Duncan in Portland, Oregon.
Camperdown House recommends:
Is it possible to pick a favorite Floater album? No. But might as well start with this one, since it has "Strychnine".
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Veda Hille has been inspiring me since the mid 90s. She writes songs, makes records and makes music for theater.
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Goodbye To The Rank and File
by Casey Neill & The Norway Rats
The last track here, "Stonewall", is full of history, biography, and otherworldly serenity.
go to albumIf you like Camperdown House, you may also like:
Snowflakes in July - EP
by Alex Henry Foster & The Long Shadows
Three renditions of “Snowflakes in July” explore all aspects of the song’s stunning beauty, including a mind-blowing 17-minute live version.
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On their latest LP, Mogwai broaden their palette with rich synths and icy grooves.
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Haunting orchestral songs from London-based band, produced by musical wizard Matthew Herbert.
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