1. |
Now Is Then
06:35
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Curtis and Lennon
They died in the same year
And I feel more about them
Than I do about anyone here
I play their records over and over again
Childhood bedroom
Manhood doomroom
Now is then
Hey crashlanded hippy
Go and smoke your homegrown self pity
Hey acid punk casualty
Go wallow in your generations tragedies
Nico, Janis and me
We'd sell our kingdom for a fix
I conjure thee x3
Jimi Hendrix Jimi Hendrix Jimi Hendrix
This is where the music dies again
Childhood bedroom
Manhood doomroom
Now is then
Hey crash landed hippy
Go and smoke your homegrown self pity
Hey acid punk casualty
Go wallow in your generations tragedies
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2. |
FAC 501
05:20
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Mr Madchester met me at Piccadilly
It was my first time in his sacred city
His northern folk were warm
His northern streets were grim
The unlikely setting
For his post-punk conceptual thing
His happy and blue Mondays
Were still to come
And it was still a long way from FAC 501
Mr Madchester drove me to Granadaland
Was he a TV presenter just dabbling with bands?
He filled my stupid head
Full of his great ideas
And I followed him
To destinations unclear
His happy and blue Mondays
Were still to come
And it was still a long way from FAC 501
All was numbered
Though the plan was there was no plan
All was numbered
Even the life of the man
In his Armani uniform of 80's excess
Each shirt was worth a dozen from BHS
He told me about the club
That he couldn't afford to run
"It has to be built
And when it's built they will come"
His happy and blue Mondays
Turned to drugs and guns
And he got a little closer to FAC 501
All was numbered
Though the plan was there was no plan
All was numbered
Even the life of the man
No room on the 12" mix for the voice of regret
My time was up as the factory pet
He'd got new kids to play with
And I'd had my city fun
So I left him on old broadway
Heading for FAC 501
His bluest ever Monday
It had to come
When he laid it all to rest in FAC 501
All was numbered
Though the plan was there was no plan
All was numbered
Even the life of the man
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3. |
Overshadowplaying
04:58
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Tony
I was a lonely
Music mad Midlands lad
But listening to northern depression
Made me feel all the more sad
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
You and your reds and blues
All the times you won the cup
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
You said we copied your style
Like we couldn't make our own style up
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
Tony
I was a lonely
Music mad Midlands lad
But listening to northern depression
Made me feel all the more sad
Up there I got called a Southerner
And none of you got my sense of humour
And I was an outsider insider
To all your myths, lies, hypes and rumours
Tony
I was a lonely
Music mad Midlands lad
But listening to northern depression
Made me feel all the more sad
And unsmiling boys in grey trousers and shirts
Found a sound like no-one had ever heard
And the disciples of cool rushed to spread the word
As your city got so hip that it hurt
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
History made it seem as if
We missed your Manc magic bus
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
When you turned into a living museum
You covered us with your dust
My city envied your city
Overshadowplaying us
Tony
I was a lonely
Music mad Midlands lad
But listening to northern depression
Made me feel all the more sad
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4. |
Memory Stone
04:15
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See the happy fools who love to dance
They’ll be staying high tonight
In their baggy pants
The DJ's temple must be destroyed
But its myth will grow
Even stronger in the void
And there are those written in memory stone
Who had to walk from being flesh blood bone
To be immortal after all
The anorexic birdman has to sing
Of the hungry sorrows
That devour him
Hear the funky white boys whistles blow
They’ll be dressed for desert war
In their khaki clothes
And there are those written in memory stone
Who had to walk from being flesh blood bone
To be immortal after all
The man who deinvented
All he reinvented
Is laughing at all this..
And the deadest deadest of dead dead poets
On repeat loop death in a dead dead decade
..Something of him still lives
These dreamers do their
Dreaming in the ground
Wrapped in shrouds of pure timeless sound
And their names are written in memory stone
They had to walk from being flesh blood bone
To be immortal after all..
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5. |
Out of Order
07:37
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Everything is out of order
The most you can hope for
Is about three quarters
The whole is always missing something
The best player
The best mover
Or the one who can actually sing
It's no way to treat a legacy
To get bogged down in legalities
But on the road to becoming legendary
There may be a few fatalities
Legend boy at least you'll never see
Your friends turning into enemies
They'll write books about
They'll make films about
Faces of ghosts on the magazine racks
They'll write books about
They'll make films about
See them in the supermarket
See them staring back
Everything is out of order
The surviving fragments
Are being kept by hoarders
The whole is always missing something
Some rarity
Some scarcity
Some unresolved longing
Send for the jigsaw police
To help to find the missing piece
Each collection is incomplete
They'll always lack that final release
Here's a place I never thought I’d see
It's called the memorabilia factory
They'll write books about
They'll make films about
Faces of ghosts on the magazine racks
They'll write books about
They’ll make films about
See them in the supermarket
See them staring back
They'll sing songs about
Go on and on and on about
I see your face on the magazine rack
They'll sing songs about
Go on and on and on about
I see you in the supermarket
I see you staring back
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6. |
Larry
04:16
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He put up a sign
Which stated that
'Stone age thinking leads2 stone age decisions'
Zen monk chanting
Zen monk ranting
He sang his blues via Joy Division
Earthquake end of time basslines
That he didn't want to play anymore
World-weary lyrical delivery
Like he'd lived them out in lifetimes before
And for those didn't know his name
He'd paint it in big day-glo letters
L-A-R-R-Y
He constructed a shrine
Around a portrait
Of Joseph Stalin he carefully placed
Gadgets and toys from
When he was a boy
From out of a seemingly bottomless suitcase
Earthquake end of time basslines
That he didn't want to play anymore
World-weary lyrical delivery
Like he'd lived them out in lifetimes before
And for those didn't know his name
He'd paint it in big day-glo letters
L-A-R-R-Y
if my phone rang at 2 or 3
I knew it'd be Larry
If my phone rang at 3 or 4
It'd be him wanting to talk some more
Did he ever sleep?
Did Larry ever sleep?
It was always now
In the key of his dreams
He was from the hip with his love and hate
Artist brother
Husband father
And his crazy wisdom can't ever be replaced
Earthquake end of time basslines
That he didn't want to play anymore
World-weary lyrical delivery
Like he'd lived them out in lifetimes before
And for those didn't know his name
He'd paint it in big day-glo letters
L-A-R-R-Y
Count the petals of peace
For Larry, for Larry
A hammer and sickle wreath
For Larry, for Larry
Everlasting sleep
Sleep Larry sleep
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7. |
French Jazz Station
10:43
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Paris hotel
Internal midnight call
That drew me out of my room
And down to yours
Your magpie possessions
Strewn on the bed and the floor
But did you ever find
What you were looking for?
Tiny transistor radio
French jazz station
All night show
A be-bop soundtrack
For your restless punk rock soul
Headed for
Where only your head could go
You said you were getting word
From the other side
From angel ancestors
And sacred suicides
Spirit voices sang to you
And made you cry
You told me you'd be with them soon
All you'd have to do was die
Tiny transistor radio
French jazz station
All night show
A be-bop soundtrack
For your restless punk rock soul
Headed for
Where only your head could go
You complained of insomnia
As you did another line
On a 24 hour clock
But running out of time
Zooming through to dawn
Crashing through all warning signs
My cautious thoughts mere whispers
Against your brilliant howling mind
Tiny transistor radio
French jazz station
All night show
A be-bop soundtrack
For your restless punk rock soul
Headed for
Where only your head could go
At some ungodly hour
I admitted defeat
You said 'just go then'
And you took to the street
To walk Montmartre at 5.00am
Driven by your own beat
Parisian early birds
Sang for the man who wouldn't sleep
In your heart you had a radio
Tuned to the secret jazz
Of the mystery show
A blackout soundtrack
For your restless punk rock soul
Heading for where
Only you could go..
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8. |
Then Is Now
01:44
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9. |
Now Is Then (2014 Edit)
03:58
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Kevin Hewick Leicester, UK
Kevin Hewick (born 4 February 1957, Leicester) is an English singer-songwriter who was an early member of the Factory Records roster. Today he is known for his recordings on Pink Box Records, an independent label based in Leicester, and his recent work with Venetian collective Unfolk. ... more
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