Inspired by a dream and featuring lyrics drawn from Priti Patel's now-infamous press conference, Fugitive Orchestra's latest single is a politically-charged Alt-Pop exploration of Covid-era politics, and a call for unity in our increasingly uncertain times.

Lyrics:

I can't see the future but I can count on my hands
We don't know that tomorrow has even made any plans
So don't fight the feeling, don't cash that cheque
Don't get to thinking, that it's gonna happen yet
Don't reach up to the ceiling, unless you want to touch the sky
Don't breathe this to another, unless you want to say goodbye
'Cause we're at the races
We're at the races

Figure your own position, deliver your own way out
The leaders will never listen, so race them and take that crown
You could offer a different vision or just keep your head down
We're at a critical condition, and yet we keep circling round

I can't see the finish line, but I can run as fast as I can
I can't climb over the steeple, 'cause I'm holding our list of demands
But don't laugh at the power, don't read the books they write
Don't place that bet, unless you want to stand up and fight
To survive among the fittest, you've gotta learn to tell a lie
And learn to count to 300, 034, 974, 005
'Cause we're at the races
We're at the races

Figure your own position, deliver your own way out
The leaders will never listen, so race them and take that crown
You could offer a different vision, or just keep your head down
We're at a critical condition, and yet we keep circling round

I can't claim to be the victor, I can stand on the highest step
These solutions aren't universal, so don't let them forget
Don't you dare start thinking, that you're gonna join the herd
You've got time to pass that test so don't you breathe another word
He's allergic to his critics, runs back to his silver spoon
There's a tidal wave approaching, but are we all immune
'Cause we're at the races
We're at the races.

Figure your own position, deliver your own way out
The leaders will never listen, so race them and take that crown
You could offer a different vision, or just keep your head down
We're at a critical condition, and yet we keep circling round.

At The Races

A track I recorded for my charity mini-album, Mo-Town, an album celebrating famous wearers of 'the Mo'. It's for sale with all of the proceeds going to Movember to fund research into the treatment of Prostate Cancer.

You can download the album here: http://fugitiveorchestra.bandcamp.com/album/mo-town

Written by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis.

Abattoir Blues (Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds Cover)

The lead single and track 4 of my lastest EP, Heterochromia.

Get your copy of the EP here: http://bethshalomrecords.bigcartel.com/product/fugitive-orchestra-heterochromia-ep-cd

Doctors, Lawyers & Indian Chiefs

Captain Of A Sinking Ship

From the Ep, Rules of the Riddle - available now. 

Lyrics:

Take me to your leader, or lead me to your taker,
All I want to know is - how have you not noticed?
That time keeps passing you by - you need to find a new alibi,
What have you got to show for this?

This Life - life - ‘cause things’ll never be the same 
But there’s truth in your eyes, despite your disguise
And somehow - there’s still meaning in pain.

‘And what are we doing here?’ you whisper in your sleep
Shouldn’t it be obvious?
‘Cause it’s happening now, if you’re ready or not
But you won’t find it at the bottom of a pint-glass.
‘Cause it’s singing, it’s singing the cosmos in a bus-stop.

And living this life - life - ‘cause things’ll never be the same 
But there’s light in your eyes, despite your disguise
And somehow - there’s still meaning in pain.

And I’m not getting any younger, and I am sorry for the taste,
Of the sense of an ending that appears in the contours of my face.
So kiss the morning sunrise on the marble steps of a new day.
And live this life; 
Cause you are here

Living this life - life - ‘cause things’ll never be the same 
But there’s light in your eyes, despite your disguise
And somehow - there’s still meaning in pain.

Hopefully the only 'Disco Protest song' you'll ever hear; taken from the Rules of the Riddle EP, available now.

Lyrics: 

First Past the post, past the mark with the most gets the prize.
There's a faint smell of fear, the disillusionment is clear, you can see it in their eyes.
And you can't explain how your friendship with that newspaper-billionaire might have muddied the waters.
So take out your little red briefcase, who knows where this will end
But what's the point of this job, the point of this career if you can't help out your friends.

'Cause we're all in this together
Aboard this ship of fools
Should we stay or should we go?
How am I to know?
When we bend and break the rules.

First past the post, past the mark with the most gets ahead.
The opinion polls are in, so you pour another gin and get ready for the dread
So smile to the camera, wave to the press - 
You're playing this game but it's not like all the rest.
But when they try to press you to your promises, they'll find that ship has sailed,,
And all is fair in love and war, and on the campaign trail.

'Cause we're all in this together
Whether you're blue or red
Should we stay or should we go?
Well how was I to know?
I just loaded the gun and fled.

And nothing else matters with a pen in your hand,
They're part of a system that you don't understand
Soon it will be clear, it's all part of the plan.
Call it 'democracy', but it's more like sleight of hand.

First Past The Post

From the EP, Rules of the Riddle, available now.

Lyrics:

I’ve had this one new thought - that some nights are darker than the others
For all the battles we’ve lost and fought, it seems I never did recover
And what are these conspicuous needs? And what is this sorrow I’ve been hiding up my sleeves?
It’s leaking out, it’s all over the floor, pass me my axe, cause I can’t see the wood for the trees anymore
But I could see more clearly, if I could step outside my head,
I’m thinking out loud in an echo-chamber and it turns out we’re all so easily led.


Cause I get heavy boots when I think about
That empty house and the crush of the crowd
I find it hard to say these things aloud 
But that’s maybe how - I carry these things that are weighing me down.


I’ve got this one old friend - he’s losing himself again.
There’s a sea of faces, they all move in perfect time
He’s swimming against that stormy sea - he’ll just survive and hold the line
I know you’re trapped inside your feelings, with little room left to breathe
Try to open up the windows and show what you’re hiding underneath.
Cause someone you know or will know or have known has changed
They might never learn the difference, before their memories fade
But if you want to see things clearly, you’d better step out of the shade 


Cause I get heavy boots when I think about
That empty house and the crush of the crowd
I find it hard to say these things aloud 
But that’s maybe how - I carry these things that are weighing me down.


There’s an army of frowns - in faded seaside regency towns 
That’ll keep you away from the bed in which you learned to love
But if you find your way back, and find you’ve got a story to tell,
Go find the men in the boardroom, looking through their memories for something to sell. 

Cause I get heavy boots when I think about
Those empty words you spoke so loud
It’s easier to keep these things in my head
Than carry the weight that is holding me down instead.

But that’s maybe how - I carry these things that are weighing me down.

Heavy Boots

Taken from the Rules of the Riddle EP, out now.

Lyrics:

And nothing ever changes,
They’re rebuilding roads and rooms that feel like cages.
Well it’s hiding under bridges,
Whistling through the trees.
Don’t look for the answer in the books you’ve found,
Or in the summer breeze.

How can you believe what you believe without being scare of the sky?
How can you deceive, the way you’ve been deceived, 
Without having tears in your eyes?

The suburbs sighed a symphony,
At night the gutters cry and the ocean weeps.
The pavements chatter senselessly,
While the buildings whisper lists of threats 
Through panes of glass and crooked teeth.

How can you believe what you believe without being scare of the sky?
How can you deceive, the way you’ve been deceived, 
Without having tears in your eyes?

And then you finally realise, 
You’ve lived your life for someone you’ve never even met.
You were born unclean, or so it seems, 
And there’s no way you’ll be getting out just yet. 
You’re feeling so vulnerable, you feel just like a kid
And you’re so scared of dying, without ever having lived.

How can you believe what you believe without being scare of the sky?
How can you deceive, the way you’ve been deceived, 
Without having tears in your eyes?

Scared Of The Sky

Out now on Minced Oaths records - available on all streaming platforms.

Lyrics:

It’s slipping through my fingers like a castle made of sand
You can read it in the paper, you can get it on demand.
‘Round here it gets so hot, the concrete slips right off the streets
Monsters coming out of hiding, crawling underneath your sheets.

But you know I love the feel of your tomahawk caress Got your finger on the button babe, you ain’t nothing like the rest.
But if you feel my touch grow cold, like the settling of doubts;
March over my borders babe, raze it all into the ground.
 We can see it in your eyes like it’s written on your face
Your office is in ruins, your country’s been disgraced.
With ‘yes’ men all around you - they’re all complicit in your game
But their children’s children’s children will still be cursing out your name.

You know I love the feel of your tomahawk caress Got your finger on the button babe, you ain’t nothing like the rest.
But if you feel my touch grow cold, like the settling of doubts;
March over my borders babe, raze it all into the ground.

Some ten years later, someone’s surveying the scene 
People have rebuilt, and wounds have all been cleaned
There are houses built near the craters, in the remnants of our love.
But if you want to keep your conscience clean - 
You’re gonna have to cover it up.
You’re gonna have to cover it up.
You’re gonna have to cover it up.
You’re gonna have to cover it up.

You know I love the feel of your tomahawk caress
 Got your finger on the button babe, you ain’t nothing like the rest.
But if you feel my touch grow cold, like the settling of doubts;
March over my borders babe, raze it all into the ground.

Tomahawk Caress

I recorded this as something of a tribute to the late, great Ms. Winehouse, whose encyclopedic knowledge of Jazz, Soul and Blues and instantly memorable voice have been a considerable influence on my music.

In an attempt to have a bit of fun with the song, (and to put my own 'stamp' on it, as they say) I thought I'd turn my version into a medley, with the equally brilliant Plan B's "She Said".

Download Apothecaries here: http://fugitiveorchestra.bandcamp.com/album/apothecaries

Back to Black written by Mark Ronson and Amy Winehouse.

She Said written by Ben Drew.

Back To Black (She Said) - Amy Winehouse/Plan B Cover

Another Track from my mini-album, Mo-Town, an album celebrating famous musicians who wore 'the Mo' with pride.

You can download Mo-Town here: http://fugitiveorchestra.bandcamp.com/album/mo-town 

And you can donate to Movember here: http://uk.movember.com/mospace/5859021

Song written by Lionel Ritchie.

Easy (Lionel Ritchie Cover)

Lyrics:

Quintessential English sounds awake a reverential English town
Put down your bags, put on your shoes, 
We’re going underground.
To where the river flows and where the heartbeat gets a little bit louder. 

Cause I am calling from a pay-phone, asking ‘what do you believe?’
Is that the way the compass points or is it the way it’s been perceived?
Save up your pennies, though talk is cheap 
And your credit card keeps whispering: ‘Ask and you shall receive’.

You should be afraid of the price of doubt,
The river’s running through but it’s not running out. 
Sometimes you might feel like you’re stuck in a cage
Don’t wait for the dust to settle, don’t wait for the tide to change.

We do pirouettes with promises and lie about our weaknesses
The traffic flows, the feeling grows, but what’s lost has now been found 
And as you awake to find a city made of glass
A universe indifferent to your culture or your class
Step away, step away and put away that mask.

Cause I am calling from a pay-phone, asking ‘what do you believe?’
Is that the way the compass points or is it the way it’s been perceived?
Save up your pennies, though talk is cheap 
And your credit card keeps whispering: ‘Ask and you shall receive’.

Cause you should be afraid of the price of doubt,
The river’s running through but it’s not running out. 
Sometimes you might feel like you’re stuck in a cage
Don’t wait for the dust to settle, don’t wait for the tide to change.

The Price of Doubt

A cover I recorded of the Weeknd's Wicked Games, after it was recommended to me by a friend. I thought I'd throw in a bit of Massive Attack's seminal Trip-Hop classic, Teardrop, as the Bridge.

Wicked Games written by Abel Tesfaye and Doc McKinney. Copyright: Republic Records.

Teardrop written by Robert Del Naja and Grantley Marshall. Copyright: Virgin Records.

Wicked Games (The Weeknd Cover)

Fusing together Beatboxing, Live-Looping and Guitar, Fugitive Orchestra makes music best described as: Alternative Jazz-infused, Bluesy Hip-Pop; drawing inspiration from the likes of Andrew Bird, LCD Soundsystem, Talking Heads, Paul Simon, Kate Bush and the Blue Nile.

Having garnered support and airplay from BBC Introducing as well as several features on Tom Robinson's 'Fresh Faves' for BBC 6-Music, the release of Tomahawk Caress in early 2019 saw the addition of Politically-charged Alt-Funk to an already diverse palette of sounds, incorporating influences from classic funk to Vulfpeck and Childish Gambino. New single, The Price of Doubt sees an exploration of 80s-tinged Guitar-driven Pop as well as universal themes of self-doubt and the importance of self-belief amid a confusing world.

Fugitive Orchestra has supported the likes of Mr. B The Gentleman Rhymer, The Petebox, Jerry Williams, The Showhawk Duo, Miles Hunt & Erica Nockalls (The Wonder Stuff), shared a stage with early-naughties heroes Wheatus at the Isle of Wight Festival, and continues to take his exciting live show to ever-growing audiences.

http://fugitiveorchestra.com

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