China Shop

I wrote a proof once
In the margin of an old book
It held
It sang in silence
I solved a riddle no one posed
But someone should have
And the page
Bent to my will

I was on a train
Between Oxford
And existential despair
Light flickered. Ink cracked
My coffee spilled
Still, logic marched in perfect rows
Shining
Afraid to be alone

But the margin
Too narrow
For voices like this

I drew your outline
In the corner, soft and hidden
Lines too gentle for names
Wrote a vow, never signed
A plan with no axis
And the paper
Tensed beneath my wanting

Under the station's hum
I footnoted everything I didn't say
Margins full of detours
Echoes of maybe
Each heartbeat struck
A chord I never dared to play

What if the page could break open?
What if the lines ran wild?
Not neat. Not safe. Not approved
But real
Bleeding past every edge

Because the margin
Was never enough
Not for this voice
Not for us

Tear it out
Let the ink run free
We'll write where no lines go

The Margin Was Too Narrow

Chief

SAYYES - CHAMPAGNE

Recorded back in 2000 with "TheNow", a progressive jam-band I brought together that broke up in the wake of 9/11.

Whateverman

Video: https://youtu.be/M6hmELy-Hpk?si=pVDsxu38E4VsmmWN

"I Let It Go” is a quiet step out of the noise – a trip-hop drift about time slowing down, memories loosening their grip and the strange calm that follows when you finally release what no longer belongs.
Created during a retreat, shaped by stillness and late-night clarity.

Instrumental roots, Massive Attack-shadows, a voice that leans into the subtle.
Hope it lands softly with you.

---------

[LYRICS]

[Verse 1]
Hours dissolve into the night
Echoes drift, no end in sight
I’m weightless in the silent flow
A shadow fades, I let it go

[Chorus]
Let it fall, let it break
Time will heal what I forsake
In the quiet I will grow
I let it go, I let it go

[Verse 2]
Moments blur, the clock stands still
Every breath bends to my will
No tether holds, no need to know
The tide comes in, I let it go

[Verse 3]
Days unwind, the past is thin
I find the space to breathe again
No weight to bear, no debt I owe
The future waits, I let it go

[Chorus]
Let it fall, let it break
Time will heal what I forsake
In the quiet I will grow
I let it go, I let it go

I Let It Go

Everything is fine
until you speak

They raised the flag, they lit the torch
they swore the words were free
But every time a tongue gets scorched
I hear the lock turn on the key

We all chant "Say what you want!" at the rally
until the echo rattles back through the alley
Freedom's cheap when it's your own creed
but your neighbor's truth feels like a weed

You clap for voices that sing your song
but plug your ears when they prove you wrong

You want the right to shout
but not the right to doubt
Freedom of speech
until you speak
You'll fight for the megaphone
until it cuts your bone
Freedom of speech
until you speak

They'll frame your words on a courtroom wall
but whisper "Censor him" down the hall
Heroes of principle, fists held high
until your sentence crosses their sky

The saints, the critics, the kings of the stage
they write their sermons and call it courage
But when a word strikes too close to home
suddenly silence becomes their throne

Do you want truth
or just a mirror?
Do you want freedom
or something nearer?
A cage with your anthem carved in stone
but bars that slam when it's not your own!

Every tongue's a loaded gun
but only yours is aimed for fun

You want the right to shout
but not the right to doubt
Freedom of speech
until you speak
You'll fight for the megaphone
until it cuts your bone
Freedom of speech
until you speak

They said the words were free
but every word has a fee

Until You Speak

The printer coughs again
black smoke of bureaucracy
Paper jam number seventy-three
a graveyard of half-born memos
It whines like it's dying
but only when you need it most

Coffee machine blinking red
"Water tank missing"
No-it's right there
but the machine has decided
to unionize with the printer
We brew despair instead

Error 404: sanity not found
Temperature swings from tundra to kiln
balance is myth
comfort is folklore
On average, perfectly fine
in hell's statistics

The air vents choose violence at noon
hurling frost into spreadsheets
then molten wind into email chains
I shed layers like an onion
until only deadlines remain

We dream of revolutions
but the fire alarm
tests itself at random
reminding us rebellion
requires fresh batteries

Error 404: humanity not found
Restart, reboot, the wheel goes round
Error 404: courage can't be found
Look away fast, don't make a sound

Update complete
Nothing has changed

Error 404: Sanity Not Found

This song was born from The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer — a poem that found me years ago while I was travelling through the mountains of Bolivia. I still remember that moment in La Paz, when a girl I’d just met read it to me out loud. Her voice, the altitude, the sky, the poverty — something in those words pierced right through me.

Later,  I improvised those same words live with my band, letting their truth move through me. Now, all these years later, we’ve recreated it —postrockfeeling  a reflection on what it really means to be human, to love, to show up fully in this lifetime.

The Invitation

Typed a truth that bit my hand
Logic slipped through contraband
The graph looked smug, the proof got lost
I called it genius-at what cost?

I tried to fix it
the problem fixed me first
There's rhythm in recursion
and guilt in every verse

I feel silly, oh, so silly
twisting reason till it's frilly
Every thought insists it's wise
but wears a clown nose in disguise

I chased an answer down a hall of drafts
doors of maybe, doors of laughs
Truth peeked through a keyhole grin
"you again?" she said, and let me in

I feel...
not wrong
just misplaced
The melody rewrote my face

I feel silly, oh, so silly
Dancing wrong but looking pretty
Every paradox I own
sends postcards to my comfort zone

If wisdom comes, let it knock twice
I'm out rehearsing bad advice
I feel silly
and honestly
it feels just right

I feel silly, oh, so silly
Dancing wrong but looking pretty...
I feel silly, oh, so silly
Dancing wrong but looking pretty...

Silly-Frilly

They shoved me in the basement, where the light don’t glow
Took my desk, my coffee cup, but there’s one thing they don’t know
I’ve got a fiery treasure, bright against the gray
My red stapler’s my salvation, it’s my only getaway

Oh, red stapler, hold me tight
In this cubicle jungle, you’re my light
When the world burns down, I’ll smile and choose
To walk away singin’ the Red Stapler Blues

The boss can take my paycheck, the copier can jam
But my little red stapler says, “Stick it to the man”
It’s more than just an office tool, it’s my sacred fight
A tiny piece of justice in the corporate night

Oh, red stapler, hold me tight
In this cubicle jungle, you’re my light
When the world burns down, I’ll smile and choose
To walk away singin’ the Red Stapler Blues

Oh, red stapler, hold me tight
Shine like fire in the spotlight
Staple the blues, staple 'em true
Red stapler, I believe in you!

Red Stapler

✦ Bandcamp: https://cruft.bandcamp.com
✦ Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/41pnowvb5PaMHZkoWDvotS?si=BJHUq7VITda_x1o9TbVHRQ

Cruft is what happens when two long-time music friends – Bengt Stenhammar and Per Åsberg – hit record, ignore genre boundaries, and drink a bit too much coffee (or whisky, depending on the time of day). Occasionally, Caroline Sparrhammar joins in to add a much-needed touch of vocal elegance.

Every track is usually written and recorded from scratch in a single intense session – usually under 16 hours. The result? Often a surprise to us too.

We don’t stick to one style because we don’t feel just one thing. Some feelings need distorted guitars. Others demand synths, brass sections or a whispered groove. Cruft is our way of staying honest – musically and emotionally.

AI sometimes helps us shape the sound, but the madness is entirely ours.

🎶 Expect the unexpected – and don’t try to box us in.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cruft

I Let It Go

cruft

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