New track!

For a change, this is a purely vocal job from my standpoint. I’d been discussing Sleaze on Facebook when my old mate Joel popped up, said he didn’t realise I did that kind of vocal style and wondered if I’d be interested in putting something over a song of his. And lo! A collaboration was born.

It’s a rarity for me to only contribute vocals to something, I don’t adore the sound of my own voice half as much as people seem to think, but it’s flattering when somebody actually wants me to add to their track (another semi-recent example is my collaboration with NoWave on Waves of Paranoia)

The result is my take on a grimy, lazy sunday – the morning (and day) after the night before, with my sleaze-ridden vocals crawling over Joel’s dubby ambient track. Think “the Orb” smeared in vaseline. Hope you like.

Blue Box – Walls and Windowpanes II (feat Scott DeathBoy)

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Lyrics:

don’t shut the door too hard
just in case the neighbours wake
she won’t hear us playing cards
yeah, I know, mate,
but fuck’s sake

watch you set up the machines
like you’re tending to a lover
you tell me this one deals in dreams
scared to ask about the other

—

had we met your friend before?
seemed so strangely pleased to meet me
got some show on channel 4?
mate, I don’t own a TV

what was the name of that last club
all the art up on the walls?
don’t try to claim it was a chip-shop
I take a swipe and something falls

—

laughing over band names
fantasies of flashy cars
when I’m famous you can remix me
we’ll both be superstars

don’t mean to sound precocious
but that wallpaper looks sick
there’s that bit there by the bookcase
with that geezer sucking

yeah well

it’s not my fault that I notice
you’ve got issues on your walls
you know I might if you asked nicely
but I prefer them slim and tall

we stroke our pleasure centres
with the candy from the crime
tongues do tricks while we’re transfixed
by a geometry of lines

—

your impression of a raptor
helpless giggles from my captor
someone’s phone camera captures
candid candy-coloured rapture

standing seems superfluous
so we languidly recline
watch your neighbour’s burly basslines
make the teacups dance in time

—

sitting on your sofa,
selling sophistry and soma
kissing clouds to make them cry
out of karma, too much coma

stay up early watching movies
on your walls and windowpanes
space invaders entertain us
leaving tracers in our brains

we set the world to rights
falling forwards in our chairs
slowly wake up in the night
peel back eyes
and no-one’s there

check your phone for missives
but it turns out no-one cares
great to see you
catch you next week
get some more, we’ll see you there