Inyanga

Nail glue tells me I need to change again
Love clouds my eyes, I can't see your threat
My man, my man

Co-op receipts damn me again
Wine stains under my skin, but I love him
My man, my man

Acres above us, all I want is a farm
Can't stop being with people who cause me harm
My man, my man

Tea is stale where is the foil I need?
To change the way I feel where's the weed?
My man, my man

Somehow in your stasis I love you man
Hamstrings broken I'm still lost in him
My man, my man

Corridor (Lyrics in description)

Guitar compositions between January and April 2018.

Haunt

Nomad

New Cross

This is a snippet from a much longer peice that I didn't have enough space for on soundcloud. I wanted to be transparent about the process so:

I used a HQ version of the oldest melody known to man, Hurrian Hymn, and I used Ableton to chop it into 6 parts, set the clips to play randomly and used 2 loopers, one 5 bars long, the other 7 bars, to create the note density/polyrhythmic feel at the end. I also used simple delay and reversed parts of the 5 bar loop.

In the background, you can hear Colin Stetson's 'Judges' and a distorted version of Billie Holiday's 'My Funny Valentine'. I tempo stretched and fed through reverb these parts, setting the algorithms to 'beats' and 'tones' respectively.

Lyre - A Snippet

The Price Of Things In Honiton

Song I wrote for a friend's birthday.

Lyrics:

On the stained white well where the gas fell
Flashed the glint of a half-moon shelled
Felt a jab from the glass-bone General
In his eyes scratched a sulphur hell
T'ward a sandbag mound of funerals
In my ears thrums the old school drill

Ypres, Ypres, glory is my pay this day
Ypres, Ypres, fünf-sechs-sieben-acht, I pray

Oh the smokes and jokes of my brothers
Uber-alles reddens the wine
In the proudest script of my mother
'Take my love and for duty die'
Flashed the glint of my badge of fraternity
As the stars rained from the sky

Ypres, Ypres, fünf sechs sieben acht, I pray
Ypres, Ypres, glory is my pay this day

As the sun rose over Flanders
As the crows fell out of flight
Cries soar over Gerry's wires

Gas is greener on the other side
Gas is greener on the other side
Gas is greener on the other side

A Voice Soon Unknown

Lyrics:

Not impressed, pale imitation of a nigga
Nonplussed homeless homie 'hind a trigger
Rigger, tied to this place, minus figures
Oh father, faith is a fate not a fixture

Faded old tendrils a' red liquor 
Folded over 10 benadrylls cancel future
Ontological Doubt, 
Ocular Disease, 
Overdrawn Debit
Overly Desensitised, 
Obituary Drafted
Orphean orphan straight outta Blasted
Odious audio hope you brought a casket
Wouldn't chance it, wouldn't second glance it

White Chocolate nigga, every sidewalk is a catwalk
So you bet I dress for pics, polaroid paranoid doc
Find myself on stage just to pick when I'm performing 
Middle-class classless I'm warning 
Bad night worse morning, came to in Womford
Involuntary, less concurred more conquered
Indefinite leave on patient form and passport
sublimate leaves, last high 'fore high court  

Self-defense your honour, too broke for a lawyer
First offence; setting up camp by the corner
Sentence; baton practice for the coroner
Now piss off, that's an order

First thing that struck was the Womford resemblance
Eyes dead, green bread, barb-wire fences
Fucked heads, docked meds, relapse prevention
Only pay is attention

Sampled From - Till It's Done (Tutu) By D'Angelo and The Vanguard

Polaroid

Hardrive broke so this'll have to do

For Marsha P and George Floyd

Deep hums in the ball when I drop
Trick talk from old timers cuz I clock
Wig snatched by a no-snatch wigga 
Waist size 8 with a figure 8, a merry .48 a bit above 8 
Salivate, look down, recalibrate
Don't add up, recalculate
Neutered your attacks with the sword this light reveal
I'm the typa card that'll trap you for a spell 
Big deal, bigger man with my masque on
Dressed to the 999s like a siren call
Theda Bara realness for all the femme fatalities
Needn't bother feeling for an AIDS eventuality

Needn't bother feeling for a pulse if she beat on
Breathing out in gulps on the street to the cop song
Woo woo, crowd cheers for the realness
Fates escaped serving real to this bullishit?
Whiplash from my bullwhip, flick cash, quick, dash - leave her with a gash then resume it
Life that is, if your upstairs match your downstairs
Crowd stares, next musical chair
When buyer's remorse turn to buyer beware

Honey pose for the outline

Self elevate, no advocation from the higher-ups
Shot a nigga, pension allocation for the cover-up
pigs nigga-shopping for a Suicide By Cop
Charged and dropped, manslaughter if the dice flop
Lets be real, call it damage to property
A dog in this fight? Same maximum penalty
All bets are off once a nigga in custody
Sell for cents, bait the cellie and he'll finish it properly

State pen under-quota, offer bargain for margin
Perp or person? Distinction non-partisan
Innocent til proven black no longer alarmin'
Sueing cops 'stead of wrecking shop a form of self-harming
Black in holes is the coal for the system you charming
Perp's a person or we living imprisoned
Life sentences for kneeling cops a solid beginning
If the story end there Aramark'll be grinning
Food for thought if this order is the law you abiding
Black lives behind bars fund the system we thrive in
Spin the Chambers or you spinning chambers barely surviving
A.F.A.B or A.M.A.B. A.C.A.B to melanin

Painter's Colic