All Was Numbered

by Kevin Hewick

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credits

released August 23, 2014

Words and Music by Kevin Hewick
Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Adam Ellis at Deadline Studios, Leicester between December 12th 2011 - January 20th 2012
Additional Mastering and Additional Recording on 'French Jazz Station' by Chris Conway at The Loft

Kevin Hewick: Acoustic, Electric and Bass Guitars, microKORG, Vocals
Chris Conway: Fender Rhodes Electric Piano (French Jazz Station)
David Dhonau: Cello (Memory Stone)
Adam Ellis: Drum Programming (Now Is Then, Overshadowplaying), Shaker (Out of Order)
Mark 'Flash' Haynes: Tambourine, Shaker (Now Is Then), Drum Kit (Overshadowplaying)

'Now Is Then' Additional Solo Vocals: 1. Camilla Kent 2. Adam Ellis 3. Gem White 4. Mr Plow 5. Dan White 6. Martha Bean 7. Kenton Hall 8. Sally Barker 9. John Butler

Cover and Rear Tray Design by Chris McMinn
Layout by Jim Tetlow
Inside Cover Liner Notes by Paul Morley

Photographs by Kevin Hewick
Except CD Tray Photograph by Cynthia Hewick

Thanks to Cynthia Hewick, Ken Hewick, Gaz Birtles, Chris Garland, Pete James, Gary Knight, Chris McMinn, City Acoustic Club, The Musician, Jude Rawlins, Anna Goodman, Meltdown Festival, Paul Morley, Section 25, Peter Hook, James Masters, FAC 251

Love to Bethan

Haçienda Records
HAC 016

www.fac51thehacienda.com
www.kevinhewick.co.uk

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about

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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Track Name: Now Is Then
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
Track Name: FAC 501
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
Track Name: Overshadowplaying
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
Track Name: Memory Stone
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..
Track Name: Out of Order
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
Track Name: Larry
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
Track Name: French Jazz Station
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..