The third track from a still-unreleased album New Myths, with Carli Jefferson on foley percussion and Clair Le Couteur on vocals and piano. Inspired by classic horror: Island of Lost Souls (1932), The Wolf Man (1941)...

Must've hit my head or something, I woke up on the ground. Naked and with blood under my nails.

I'mon get out of this. I'mon get out of this.

Picked up my feet, started walking with the trees as my guide; remembering that moss only grows on the North side (I think). I was ravening, so hungry when I found meat on the ground, I couldn't help myself. It looked just like steak.

Picked it up, dusted it off, and tucked in with the blood dripping down my neck. I'mona get out of this, I'mona get myself together, I'mona find my way back to civilization. Civilization.

And then, and then, I remembered some crazy dream; I was the king of the wolves, and the woods were bright with moonlight and with blood. And with the blood on my lips, so came these words,
'I won't end up eating people, I won't end up being one of them.'

I'mon get out of this. I'mon get out of this. I'mon get out of this.

As I walked on through the woods, I came upon a road finally and this car in a ditch and this girl, messed up pretty bad. She said,
'Oh my god, oh my god. Did that thing... did that thing come after you too? Where are your clothes?'

And I said,
'Must've hit my head or something; I woke up on the ground, naked and with blood under my nails. But don't worry, we can get out of this, we can get out of this.'

But as I came close, reached out my hand, 'Oh my god,' she said, 'what is wrong with your eyes? Yellow. Feral.'

I reached out my hand but the pain was like a hive of bees. She had silver chains around her wrist. She had silver chains around her wrist. And I said.
'Are we not men? Or are we beasts pretending to be king? I'm not a man, I am a wolf, pretending to be a man.'

I'mon get outta this the next time the moon sets me free and never look back, and never look back. I'mon get outta this skin. I'mon get outta this skin. I'mon get outta this skin. I'mon get outta this.

Peter And The Wolf

11.11.2018 marked the 100th anniversary of the end of WWI – the so-called "War to End All Wars". Twenty years later, with Germany and France still in ruins and fascist nationalism on the rise, it all began again...

This is a new folksong to commemorate ordinary working folk all over the world, who have to keep life going while their loved ones are sent out to fight and die in other people's wars.

The letters are shaking the hands of our wives
And we must obey them in fear of our lives
With all our bright buttons we march through the town
You'll see us again in the turn
The turn of the plough

The glint of the gold; the spikes in our drinks
Washing the decks with a world's time to think
Oh, cheer up lads we're all on the same side
We'll all roll home again in the turn
The turn of the tide

Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole! Fire in the whole world.

The hands of the women are shaking again
The letters are new but the meaning's the same
They'll be minting more buttons, but the old ones somehow
Are still turning up in the turn
The turn of the plough

Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole! Fire in the whole world.

Song: LUNATRAKTORS
Arrangement: LUNATRAKTORS
Body percussion & Vocals: Clair Le Couteur & Carli Jefferson
Recording: Arco Barco, Ramsgate
Engineer: Raphael Mann
Mastering: Ed Deegan

Turn Of The Plough

Black Raven is a new English mis-translation of a traditional Cossack folk song that is well known in Russia, reworked through the lens of English folk and blues. We found it while researching world music about corvids – crows, ravens, magpies – which are a kind of clan emblem for us. The tune feels soaring, magnetic, with extremely deep roots. Something in the melody transports us, seems to open up a landscape, a trans-temporal space of connection with something very big, and very old, and very dark.

Special thanks to Sophie J of Thetford Grammar School, who won our competition to design the Black Raven image.

This Is Broken Folk

Black Raven

Jim Jones is a traditional English / Australian ballad about a man who is transported to the notorious British 'Botany Bay' penal colony for the petty crime of poaching. We sing it in solidarity with all those around the world who face colonial abuse and miscarriages of justice.

LUNATRAKTORS

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