Here's an archival piece that I constructed partly using digitized samples from cassette tapes of Dave's old music/noise/poetry collective called Spare Tire. Dave plays a ton of wacked out clarinet and sax on this, some of it old and some newly recorded. Despite the "challenging" nature of this thing, it's actually a meticulously thought out "composition" in five distinct sections, using the concept of “musique concrète” as the impetus for putting this freak show together. Everything is sonically mangled, manipulated, and often stretched out. If you can stand it, it's a headphone listen. Please enjoy? 

Best,
John Trout

Put Grease to Work

Spare Metal

The catalyst for this commercial about a fictitious brand of chips (or crisps, as they say in the UK) came from Dave saying the line “I sold my soul for a bag of chips” during the recording of “June Was a Fraud” and Myna Wallin suggesting Twisty Crisps as a product name.  I composed a new backing track, Dave talked over it, I sang a bit, and everybody got their freaking snack on. This was influenced by The Residents, no doubt. Kind of a goofy one, innit.

Best,
John Trout

TWISTY CRISPS

Hello...

I sold my soul for a bag of chips, ah
I sold my soul for a bag of chips, ah
Twisty Crisps, ooh
Twisty Crisps

I sold my soul for a bag of chips, ah
I sold my soul for a bag of chips, ah
Twisty Crisps, ooh
Twisty Crisps

Twisty Crisps taste so nice
Just one crisp will change your life
Twisty Crisps, ooh
Twisty Crisps

Oh, I sold my soul for a bag of chips
I sold my soul for a bag of chips
Twisty Crisps, ooh
I’m afraid, I’m so afraid
Twisty Crisps, ooh
I can’t leave the kitchen
Twisty Crisps
I’ve fallen in love with a bag of chips
Salt and vinegar!

Twisty Crisps

Here's a light lilt you can listen to when the launch is late.  Later!

Roll the Credits

This is an oldie from the 2010 Cold Cake CD, PUT GREASE TO WORK. Here's what I wrote about it at the time: 

It’s not so much a song as an “art piece.” I’m reading a poem I wrote fifteen years ago (ed. now 27 years ago!) that was inspired by Dave Liddell and his amazing ability to spew prose-poetry. However, he absolutely refuses to edit himself, hence the frustration expressed here. The backdrop of horn-type sounds are actually the clarinet and sax tracks from “Mumblety-peg” played backwards. Conceptual continuity or just plain laziness? 

Best,
John Trout

THE FILLER BOYS

The filler boys have lost of talent
But they lack the discipline
To be good servants to their verses
To scan the lines and rein them in
A good editor would set firm boundaries
Make them extract their choicest quotes
Sentence to their beer-stained keyboards
Ration their stash, steal their remotes

The make me jealous, those filler boys
With their words that tumble out so fast
I love the nuggets contained in their ramblings
The possibilities snaking through the grass
But they don’t try to boil it down
Apply some heat and drain the fat
I often wonder what would happen
If just one time they bathed the cat

I could edit those filler boys
Right back into their training pants
Meet the reduction quotas I’ve set
Compulsively organize their rants
Be ready with my mop and cleaver
To mechanically separate the meat
Save the chunks for a sober morning
While they get drunk and maintain the beat

I’d wield a great big dogma toothbrush
Clean the nihilism off their teeth
Leave a few old nagging cavities
Pain is good when the idea is sweet
They could assume their alter egos
Groove on the shadows that they cast
Spill their guts in word tornados
Lament about their shriveled pasts

What’s needed is a biological mix
A union of both our DNA
A single being could be created
Controlled chaos could rule the day
This new beast could deftly balance
A donkey on a sparring pole
And still have the evening free for dreaming
Or the time to gaze in some black hole

The Filler Boys

Here’s a peppy number about how the great human experiment is winding down. We had a good run, though, more or less. 

LAST HOLIDAY (GOOD RUN)

We had a good run out in the hot sun:
Potable water, teeter totters
Atom bombs and acid blotter,
Caesar’s Palace, cannon fodder,
Sticky notes, corporate marauders 

We had a fun time out in the sunshine:
Laser beams, endless memes
Cookies, creams, perverted dreams
Greedy schemes, sadistic scenes
Killing floors and children’s screams

Last holiday, last holiday, last holiday, last holiday

Endless memes, perverted dreams, 
Endless memes, perverted dreams,
(It’s the last holiday)
Endless memes, perverted dreams
(Resignation and remorse)
Endless memes, perverted dreams,
(It’s the last holiday)
Endless memes, perverted dreams
(Resignation and remorse)
Endless memes, perverted dreams,
(It’s the last holiday)
Endless memes, perverted dreams
(Resignation and remorse)
Endless memes, perverted dreams…

Last Holiday (Good Run)

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Plastic that isn't even real? Babies in boxes? Lingerie that only costs a dollar? What's this world comin' to?!

MUMBLETY-PEG

Tender, tough times
Gloomy hometown picnic
Even the plastic is not real
Might be Tuesday if I’m in love
Are there babies in those boxes?

I’m not happy that you’re not happy that
I’m not happy that you’re not happy that
I’m not happy that you’re not happy that
I’m not happy that you’re not happy that
I am happy that you’re not happy that
I am happy that you are happy that
I am happy that you are happy that
I am

Black Cat cigarette
Cream soda martini
Round robin decay
Greek computers
Showing their age
Hi-tech squalor
Electrolysis preacher
Dismay

Rosie at the cashbar
Playin’ mumblety-peg
I was happiest in the cellar
She’d come and visit me
With lingerie
That cost a dollar
Cost a dollar
Cost a dollar

I am happy

Mumblety-peg

Freakin’ cheers!

HAPPY NEW YEAR

New year coming, can’t stop it coming
New year coming, put your shoulder to the wheel
New year coming, it won’t stop coming
New year coming, no such thing as a free meal

Paycheque to paycheque, pushing on a cold broom
Or answering to assholes stinking up the boardroom
Either way it’s painful staring down the doom and gloom
New year coming, what’s the big reveal?

Here comes the real test
Here it comes, here it comes
Here comes the real test
Here it comes, here it comes
Here comes the real test
(It’s a tasty test)
Here come the real test
(A big heaping bowl of garbage!)
Here it comes!

Happy New Year
(Music for my dog’s dinner)
Happy New year
Happy New year
Happy New Year
C’mon!
C’mon!

Happy New Year

The world has begun a sixth mass extinction, and metaphorically the responsibility lies with those who have aided and abetted Santa Claus. 

IT'S A MIRACLE

You know that I still believe in Santa, Santa Claus
It’s a miracle, it’s a miracle
That we’re still alive in this dive
It’s a miracle we’re still alive in this dive
It’s a miracle, it’s a miracle, it’s a miracle
It’s a miracle, it’s a miracle

I still believe in Santa Claus because
It’s a miracle we’re alive in this dive
I still believe it’s a miracle
We’re alive in this dive
With the holiday jive!

I made a snowman and I put some crack in his pipe; no, no, no I didn’t, I never did. I was one of the wise men, I tell ya, like a barnyard hero, following the north star. I think that’s the north star. Could’ve been a street light. Happy holidays, everybody. Santa, santa, santa, santa, santa, santa, santa…

It's a Miracle!

Like an old man easing into a warm bath. 

UPDATE!! Our good friend DJ ANY WAY (aka Gordon Way) created a way-cool video for this tune. Thank you very much, Gordo. Excellent work!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-9ZesYV6jsM

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