A new song I've written which I hope will feature in the band's set at some point the future.
I came flying in the door full of the drink one evening and wrote the lyric, which the next morning I was amazed to discover wasn't shite.
The main thrust of it will be a call and response type thing between our singer and myself, with me doing the singy bits and him doing the talky bits.
Despite the title it isn't really a tribute to the Einstürzende Neubauten singer, I merely used the tribute song form as template (although that said I do fuckin' love him).
Shite quality as usual; I really should get a proper mic.

Lyrics:

Recalcitrant, Gaunt
Fruit of Passion from an early lane
Guitar scratches plukes
Who wouldn’t want those depressions?

Cyrillic, quaint
Peers over a garden wall
Potting in the beaver shed
Beautiful Egyptian nose

Two world wars and one world cup:
Havn’t got time for
That’s five eastern promises old
That’s five eastern promises old

“Getting fired in”
Is a nice German word
In a verb, “bekommen”
Raised foul embossment

Roman, neues
          Le nouveau roman de Early Lanes
          (Wae plukes)
U-Bahn Zug doesn’t stop

I am Blixa Bargeld
Sie sind faul England
Ich bin Blixa Bargeld
I am faul Shottland

I am faul England
Du bist Blixa Bargeld
I am rotten Schottland
Sie sind Blixa Bargeld


I Am Blixa Bargeld (Ich Bin Es)

Not put anything up here for a while.
That's mainly 'cause this laptop's probably taken a dunt at some point, leaving the mic quality beyond dreadful. But here's me playing Pulp's "Underwear", late at night and at just about the only volume this mic can handle.
N.B. I couldn't be arsed learning the interlude bits so it's just the first two verses and choruses.

Underwear (Pulp Cover)

A new song for the reference of the band.
I intend to pull it as far away from the strum and sing style as possible but that's how it's presented here.

Lyrics:
The death of a dog can make you sick
And the death of a cat can knock you for 6
- hundred likes if you spread it about enough.

Buy another one that looks the same
Or adopt a goat or have a wean
Posterity lurks where esteem is left to want

[Chorus]
Feel my insufferable presence burn into your screen
I don’t claim to be any different from you and yourself
I’d warn you, I’d tell you to keep an eye on the stream
But you don’t by any digital metric respect yourself.

This is all very topical (isn’t it?)
This is utterly germane and apposite 
From words like these I fashion my soapbox

You politick, you have a crack at vlogs
You kill yourself with grief whilst trawling a chat-log
We leave our wit to stew and overcook.

I’m imagining my deathbed, man
And the covers smothering the laptop fan
With the weans from China or wherever I never roamed.

I’ll see my father’s face ‘cause I put it up
In a photo album that I cannot touch
But also cannot smudge so I won’t be that cunt.


Screenburn

This is the last one I'll upload I promise. This song has taken some amount of tinkering I'll tell you.
Featuring Dylan on bass.

Bargelt Einzuh (Final Version)

EXCLUSIVE PREVIEW OF NEW ALBUM*

Inspired by charlatans with sequencers and tinny speakers.
That's you dead!

Flat-chested Junky Whore

Howitzer Salvo Live

Demo 4 Calum

Smerdyakov

Smierdiakow (Live)

Winter Songs II And III

Winter Song I

Tom here. I'm the singer in Glasgow band, Basement Kirk.
Check us out here:
- https://soundcloud.com/basementkirk
And here:
 - https://www.facebook.com/basementkirk
This soundlcoud is just a place for sketches, covers and self-indulgent experiments.
Cheers!

Warren Peace

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