I’ve got my work cut out with you
Your fitted shirts, and your patent leather shoes
A choice of cars to drop your kids at school
You’ve got it
I want it too
 
I’ll find you drinking at the bar
You’ll tell me all about your personal par
Then late at night I’ll walk you home, sweet home
You’ve got it
I want that too

The wheel of fortune just keeps spinning on and on
Where it stops no-body knows
Your run of luck just bounced right off the table
You had it 
I’ve got it now

We’ll go inside for one last drink
I’ll fix your nightcap while you take a leak
And when you wake up you’ll be six feet deep
You had it
I’ve got it now

You thought the world belonged to you
Well now you know it was yours to lose
I was just waiting in the wings out there
You had it
I’ve got it now
 
You shouldn’t feel too bad about yourself
I quite admire your nerve
If I had been the one who had it all
I’m sure, you would have got to me first

The wheel of fortune just keeps spinning on and on
Where it stops no-body knows
Your run of luck just bounced right off the table
You had it 
I’ve got it
You blew it 
I won it
You lost it
I’ve got it now

And when you curse the day we met back then
And think about your life
Console yourself with this one last thought
It’s me, that’s sleeping with your wife

You had it 
I’ve got it
You blew it

You've got it, I want it

This is a new version of something I recorded a year ago. Since then I've had the (for some, dubious) pleasure of walking on a corpse road in Swaledale, with my kids. Which somehow brings me full circle on the lyrics of the  song.


Show them their fear
Don’t close the windows
On the thunder

Cast aside the tears
In the darkness
Let them wander

With goblins, and demons
Welcome the night
With problems, and feelings
Turn off the light

Shut down the screens
Fade to blackness
In the twilight

We’ll throw it all away
On the wayside
In the ditches

With monsters, and fairies
Welcome the night
We’re frightened and helpless
Turn off the light

Break down the doors
Smash the altars
And the crosses

Lead us astray
From the corpse road
Into forests

With phantoms, and spirits
Welcome the night
With feasting and dancing
Turn off the light

Welcome the night
Turn off the light

Turn Off The Light (new version for 2021)

So happy to have been able to include the fabulous SuZanne Ledwith on this track. Skip over here to check out her talent: https://soundcloud.com/suzanne-ledwith


Fast Train

The morning sun has lost its warmth
There’s a coolness in the air
Shadows lengthen in the street
On branches that are bare

A frost lies gentle on the grass
The smell of burning leaves
Each night hangs heavier in our bones
As we rise
To brush our teeth

The train pulls in at half past eight
We file into the aisles
Hanging from the rails and straps
We’re rocked from side to side

The backs of houses pass us by
A hundred stories to unfold
As the wheels thunder on the tracks
And we try to keep control 

Now smile
Because the world it needs to laugh
Stay  awhile
Your stations just gone past
This train’s too fast

A woman’s crying next to me
Tears drop into her coffee cup
Strangers crowd and try to help
And all our eyes are welling up

Her shoulders shake with every sob
We all stand and watch in awe
As things fall apart
In carriage number four

Now smile
Because the world it needs to laugh
Stay  awhile
Your stations just gone past
This train’s too fast

Fast Train - featuring SuZanne Ledwith

A huge shout out to Len Rice for all his production suggestions on this and other tracks of mine - a true expert, check him out https://soundcloud.com/lenrice

At half past ten
In the kitchen drinking coffee again
And Right on time
The postman knocks and the clock begins to chime

In the afternoon
The sound of children walking back from school
At six o clock
The bbqs are spreading smoke around the block

Who could ask for me more?
A garden gate and a name above the door
Who could ask for more?
Wrapped inside these walls
Who could ask for more?
A roof and a floor
Who could ask for more?
Your suitcase in the hall

Have you ever dreamt
Of having a life changing event?
Lost in the wilderness
A chance encounter or a mystery illness?

Don’t take fright
If the foxes screaming out tonight
They’re just looking for a mate
Call me now it’s never too late

Who could ask for me more?
A garden gate and a name above the door
Who could ask for more?
Wrapped inside these walls
Who could ask for more?
A roof and a floor
Who could ask for more?
Your suitcase in the hall

Who could ask for more?

A huge shout out to Len Rice for all his production suggestions on this and other tracks of mine - a true expert, check him out https://soundcloud.com/lenrice

The telephone keeps ringing lately
And I don’t know who it is
Every time I say hello who is it 
There’s silence on the line 

And when I try to trace the caller
There’s no number to be found
I can’t even call the operator
They don’t exist any more

Maybe I’m just imagining it all
Just Tricks upon my mind
If it’s you that keeps calling
Won’t you please just give me a sign
Please just give me a sign

Instrumental verse

In the night I heard a high pitch pinging
A message had just arrived 
But when I checked my phone to read it
A blank email was all I found 

I wonder if I’m imagining it all
Just Tricks upon my mind
If it’s you that keeps calling
Won’t you please Just give me a sign
Please give me a sign
If it’s you just give me sign

Silence on the line

A visit to the 'Champs Elysees' of the Bronx - and thanks to the O'Jays for the memories (and chorus).

I love music

Huge thanks to Len Rice https://soundcloud.com/lenrice and Clint Collins https://soundcloud.com/user-836903146 for sourcing a scratchy violin sample!!

Photo by Morgan Petroski on Unsplash https://unsplash.com/photos/ZCX1Nyok66c?

I’d like to write a song for you
I could even try to write a happy one
If I force myself to
All about the good times that we shared
the laughter and the joy and the funny things we said
About all the things that just fell into place
About the birds and the bees and the blue skies and the tall trees
and flowers and the sunshine and the sound of mountain streams
I’d like to write a happy song for you

CHORUS:
If you’re looking
For somewhere to rest your head
Don’t keep fighting with yourself
Just talk about the weather instead
Because loving is easier
If we’d just make it breezier
So let’s keep it light and simple
And talk about the weather instead

I’d like to play a tune for you
I could even write a happy tune
If you want me to
You could hum it on your way to work
And whistle while you’re in the park
And play it on your old violin
A sweet happy tune that you could sing, sing, sing
to your children as they’re dreaming of the next new thing
I’d like to write a happy tune for you

CHORUS

I’d like to dedicate this song to you
I tried to make happier than I usually do
I thought you’d like me to
There’s always something new to say
the weather changes day by day
Sunshine or an arctic freeze
Or the floods or the droughts or the rising seas 
or the gutters that are blocked up with the fallen leaves

I’d like to dedicate this song to you
I tried to make it happier than I usually do
The way you want me to

CHORUS + REFRAIN

Keep it light and simple

A slightly psychotic song about being an artist - always hoping for the big break and trying not to unravel in the meantime...

Photo by https://unsplash.com/@i_am_nah on Unsplash

This time something is really happening

A song by Gillian Welch, one of my favourite artists and one of my favourite voices.

Strangers Again

Thanks for BVs from Ed The Daniel

Photo by Eileen Pan on Unsplash

I have a great attraction
To all the ones
Who don’t have one distraction
From what they want

I can’t fault what you’re doing
I wish I could
If I get lost pursuing
Just carry on 

Every step that is taken
We take alone  
In search of what we’re craving 
A thing unknown

I don’t think something’s missing
In all the ones
Who through their indecision
Get left behind

I’ve got such admiration
For all the ones
Who know no deviation
From all their plans

And where there’s satisfaction
In your way
Of living in the action
It’s not my way

A great attraction

Nightshift

A jolly little ditty about suspicion and paranoia

Deleted Message

Think Again

An old track I made in my more experimental phase! 

I love Jaques Tati films - I'd take Mon Oncle to a desert island over the bible any day to keep my spirits up. 

Seems I'm in good company - David Lynch was just as enamoured as I am with Tati's amazing mastery of sound in particular, as well as images. Cue the Lynch samples I use in this track. ‘When you watch Tati’s films,’ Lynch once said, ‘you realise how much he knew and loved human nature, and it can only be an inspiration to do the same.’

Aaaah, Jaques Tati - it may be another era, but there's still plenty for us to learn from his perspective on old versus new worlds and values.

I tried to write a piece of music that is as joyous and understated as Tati's films. I hope you like it.

Ah Jacques Tati

Canopy

'Do not dump lumber in the paladin chamber' - you've been warned.

Paladin Chamber

Vacillations

All thanks (and copyright) to the great John Prine who wrote this song:
https://youtu.be/eFvenjll1Bk

Speed Of The Sound Of Loneliness ft. Nude Acolyte

You found this boy you took him home 
You said its empty we’ll be alone 
My fathers drunk, my mothers mum on the shift tonight  
We stole some gin, put music on 
We knew the words to that Neil Young song 
You took my hand said follow me, turn off the light  
Make up, clothes and fluffy toys 
Childish things and adult ploys, 
Your bunk bed filled with biscuit crumbs and magazines  
Shoes off you said, we rolled around 
I held my breath didn’t make a sound 
The ceiling glowed with stars in neon green 

I am just a dreamer, but you are just a dream, 
You could have been anyone to me  

The sound of voices woke me up 
I was lying on the surgeons slab 
A doctor and a Nurse were staring down at me  
I said is it bad just tell me straight 
He held my heart out on a plate 
Tomorrow you’ll be feeling great like you never did before   
I left the house before the dawn 
Your room still dark, the curtains drawn 
The years since then have passed me by so fast  
But Facebooks got so very smart 
I recognised you from the start 
It’s true - Nobody can escape their past   

I am just a dreamer, but you are just a dream, 
You could have been anyone to me

Night Shift

You said 
There’s a hole where your heart should be
You said I’ll be your destiny
Then you let me in
Yeh you let me in
It was the kindest thing 
I was just fifteen

I can’t
Make a career out of misery
I’ll do myself an injury
If I stay around here
Yeh If I stay around here
I’ll cut off more than my ear
There’ll be blood there’ll be tears
If I stay round here

Low skies surrounding me
No trees to break the wind
Ploughed fields a muddy sea
No signs to help me

How far? 
Can you take me to the nearest station 
I need the sea for inspiration 
There’s a guesthouse there 
Yeh there’s a guesthouse there 
With just a bed and a chair 
Not a trace or a care  

What’s this? 
Some kind of an apology 
You said you’d be my destiny 
And you let me in 
Yeh you let me in 
It was the cruelest thing 
I was just fifteen

A Hole Where Your Heart Should Be ft. Nude Acolyte

Street sounds from Dhaka, Bangladesh - arrangement via GarageBand on a crappy iPhone SE. Forgive the lack of finessing!

Rickshaws & rooftops

Pack your bags we’re leaving town
Let’s go before the dawn
Unplug the fridge and lock the windows gently
Don’t wake the man next door.

Overhead the geese are flying in formation
They’re Heading to the lake
Beside the swings and slides we know so well
With our kids and our crumbs of cake.

The road is long and dusty
From the suburbs to the fields
Your face against the window sleeping
Washed by the summer breeze

Is this a new beginning?
And are we really here?
Can you hear the bells are ringing?

Scrub walls and paint the floorboards
These ghosts can find another home
Patch up the broken window
Light the hearth chase out the gloom

Weedpatch and wild grasses
Turn the soil and plant the seed
Make work for hungry children
Take your turn beneath the heat

The road is long and dusty
From the suburbs to the fields
Your face against the window sleeping
Washed by the summer breeze.

Is this a new beginning?
And are we really here?
Can you hear the bells are ringing?
The rains are drawing near

Weedpatch

Copyright Bob Dylan. Painting by Juan Gris.

I've tried to do something different with this - what's the point in trying to sound like Dylan...?

Tonight I'm Staying Here With You

This song is dedicated to my gran Phyllis Tewson whose husband died in his fifties. She lived in the same house on her own until she couldn’t look after herself in her late eighties. She was an inspiration to me and she never complained about her lot. Always took an interest in young people and was enthusiastic about all the crap that I shared with her in spite of my naivety. I think about her a lot.

35 years

Someone is going to be sorry
Someone is going to be glad
If you tell me what time your train leaves I’ll work out if I’m happy or sad

You came here unannounced and uninvited
With a shoulder bag and a coat
To a small town in the sand dunes
And a string of fishing boats

Down the alleyways and the backstreets
Past the boarded shops and pubs
windows covered with posters for karaoeke clubs

The market place is empty,
Cobbles glisten in the dawn,
but the sun doesn’t rise as the
mist comes in, off the shore

Someone, somewhere
In a street in a town in a country over there
Somehow, someway
With a wish with hope with a prayer
With a desperate heart full of fear
With the promised land so far and yet so near


Somebody took advantage
Someone else took pity on you
Pulling beer in the volunteer
Under flags of red white and blue

Your accent is confusing
From somewhere to the East
You said the name but it didn’t mean much to me

Your skin is pale like paper
hair is black as tar
You lined up shots like bullets
And arm wrestled me off the bar

We all stood to form a queue
Of knuckle cracking clowns
Our tattooed facing sweated
As you took each of us down

Someone, somewhere
In a street in a town in a country over there
Somehow, someway
With a wish with hope with a prayer
With a desperate heart full of fear
With the promised land so far and yet so near


Somebody’s going to be angry others will be satisfied
I’ll make up my mind in a year or two
When the memory of you has died

Someone is going to be sorry
Someone is going to be glad
If you tell me what time your train leaves I’ll work out if I’m happy or sad


Someone, somewhere
In a street in a town in a country over there
Somehow, someway
With a wish with hope with a prayer
With a desperate heart full of fear
With the promised land so far and yet so near

So Near, So Far

Inspired by a story I heard about a man in the 1970s who fished a giant carp out of the river that ran through his cellar.

There’s a river under this house
That no ones ever seen
I can hear it in my sleep
I can smell it in my dreams

In a darkness so complete

There’s a river under this house
That doesn’t see the sun
I can hear it in the cellar
I can hear it say London

With a purpose obsolete

There’s a river under this house
That never stops to think
Just a murmur in the dark
A whisper in the ink

Flowing through my days...and nights

I will join those moving waters
In my dreams
Beneath the roads and houses parks and trees
Through passages and tunnels darkest black
Asleep on currents floating on my back

London

Some background - I've inherited an English 5-string zither banjo - a Windsor Eclipse 10. Built in the 1930s before the factory in Birmingham was bombed in WW2 and Windsor went out of business. Sounds good in the lower register but terrible after the 5th fret! Mix of gut and steel strings originally and a unique tunnel for the 5th string www.zither-banjo.org.uk/pages/windsornew.htm

It's not the banjo I'd choose to have but then we don't choose our family either do we?

I’m always happy when
I’m holding 
This banjo
It’s not because I can 
Play any tunes 
That you know

The body’s out of shape
It barely resonates
The neck is far too long
Ugly and cumbersome
The wood is cheap
The joints are weak

But all of this
It matters
Not one bit
Because…

I’m always happy when
I’m holding 
This banjo
It’s not because I can 
Play any tunes 
That you know


The sound is high and thin
A cat on helium
The fretboard’s lost its shine
Beneath the years of grime
The strings are worn
The heads don’t turn

But all of this
It matters
Not one bit
Because…

It’s just a feeling that I get
Like a baby, like a pet
When I hold it in my arms
Life can do no harm
My lucky charm…

I’ve found a melody
That you can sing with me
These words together lets
Produce a sweet duet
Now let’s begin, I’ll count you in
One, two, three, four

Banjo

I'm putting up new original material on my Spotify channel https://open.spotify.com/artist/2PtcG937rHfQWJwv0Zi4um?si=t1ppLngORgmuqz9qeoDOzw 
Mostly original tracks, a few covers here and there. Thank you for even getting this far. Thoughts, opinions, suggestions all welcome. It's pretty lonely out here toiling over every sound wave and grubby plugin. Any feedback is appreciated and if you've got a track you want me to hear send it over - what comes around goes around etc. A huge shout out to Len Rice for all his production suggestions on this and other tracks of mine - a true expert, check him out https://soundcloud.com/lenrice
One day I hope to get some collaborations going and a far off dream is to re awaken all these tracks in a live environment with a live band and maybe even a live audience. For now the dream keeps me going. Thanks for listening.

I'm trying to use as much real instrumentation as possible: a Taylor and a Norman acoustic guitars, a Fender Strat Roadhouse that goes out of tune if I even look at it, a cheap Vintage mandolin that hurts to play and listen to, an 80 year old zither banjo that screams 'I was never destined for this' and a borrowed Aria Pro II bass that a friend can never be bothered to take home on the bus. Synths are a plasticky Roland FA06 and a fun but dumb Korg minilogue. Throw in some Native Instruments software primarily for smoochy piano and strings, a £15 melodica full of tramp spit, some harps in impossible tunings, and a box of percussion and assorted prehistoric flints (are you really still reading this??). 

All recorded on Logic Pro X on an ancient iMac that is going to explode any minute and take my entire oeuvre with it. And most likely burn the house down.

C h r i s t i a n T W a l s h

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