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the perilous beauty of madness

by darkblueworld

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1.
demimonde 04:43
DEMIMONDE (e.fischer) tour operators of demimonde delights, marathon rovers with glazed over eyes all you need, to feel complete, to bring yourself down from the daily grind is a packed bag, and your heart on a wheel tour operators of demimonde delights, immune to everything exposed and alive promise to make, time stand still cause when you’re hungry and wasted and feeling ill time is a luxury you can not afford when you’re factory bred, and factory tooled the serpentine alleys are not paved with gold, and radiant futures and lofty goals are mere gruesome fairytales told by the old armies of shadows in late night dives, future corpses, leaving nothing behind, nothing to hide, nothing to chance, nothing to feel and nothing to face hallucinating sirens of snow white sin, bad luck and trouble, under the skin huddle closer cursing the smoke filled bins as the blue rock of ages knocks from within with countless versions of crazy love with countless versions of crazy love
2.
I LOOKED FOR YOU (e. fischer) i looked for you to look for me first navigate the thorns of another crowded room i didn’t really mind, it was worth it to find something to believe... have nothing to hide i looked for you to look for me first as the waves kept coming, wild hearted and weird waves of discomfort, sailing the deep a man with a mission... and me, a thief i spit in your eyes and split your lip you sliced up my stories with your razorsharp wit free as the wind but caught up inside in perfectly tragic shattering... delight and if you or i did finally become the fallible alien, breathing open air to need nothing and no one is a tempting grace but to instead leap laughing into ravenous space is fucking brilliant, everything’s fair in the cool compassion of shared despair i looked for you to look for me first in an oddly brutal comedy of thirst it’s useless to rage at mindless fate damaged forever. but face... to face.
3.
TRACKING THE DETECTIVES (e. fischer) tracking the detectives, criminal dissection hover undercover, where everything's raw voyeur in the making, driven to inspecting routines that bite hard the love is real, the best part of the show is the permission to hold, signed by a clown a picture of a gun in a room of ones own to make the point they tell me they're happy, that they're off the hook faith flock, lock step, instructions in the book it may not seem right, but it's as good as it gets the meek always pay, pay to be bold it's hard to miss, the heaving chests the cynical spiders crawling up their legs hell's other people, or so i've been told advice as good as gold. resurrection fever, the hope that blinds for the best bad things always happen at night learning how to fish, in the can of worms is an education, the best they tell me they're happy, that they're off the hook faith flock, lock step, instructions in the book it may not seem right, but it's as good as it gets the meek always pay, pay to be bold
4.
on a wire 06:02
ON A WIRE (e. fischer) i'm dangling on a wire trying to keep my cool i'm trying to stay steady deaf to ridicule this must be some kind of circus and i must be some kind of fool to be stuck on top of nothing my chin wet with drool way down below the horses prance raising clouds of dust i hear the sound of a trumpet blast announcing the next act two dwarves in a gorilla suit run out drawing a cart on which sprawled in splendid disarray sits a pope with a picture for a heart try try try to disappear he merrily snaps his fingers the spotlight turns to red it lights up all his jewels draws halos around his head then with a plump white finger he beckons closer to his lips and as solace to the starving he whispers racing tips try try try to disappear the crowd is in a frenzy they are crawling on their knees the master of ceremonies is smiling he delicately wipes away a tear and i'm dangling on a wire i beg to be let down but my companions are doing brisk business with amulets and crowns try try try to disappear
5.
THE LUCK OF THE DRAW (e. fischer) the living room is blind with clouds of dust and cheap perfume baby's low on her calloused knees keeping the prices down politely asks for a piece of bread to feed the phantom in her head baby’s just not tough enough the luck of the draw mother hangs her sorrows up kisses the toilet goodnight father's in the time machine cowering in fright and the children, like weeds at war are strewing table scraps into the cold hard ground the luck of the draw the luck of the draw, the wheel turning round the suicide club is paying the rent with paintings of hearts another chance, another kick at the can flashfrozen pictures of better days hang by a thread just up ahead warden builds a brand new jail puts up the neon lights cause the letters keep on coming that no one seems to write i'll get you yet, he crows and takes out a letter knife a name is just another sign the luck of the draw someone punches a hole in the wall thrills the passers by falling down with the master plan buys a bullet in the eye what's the use of calling for help there's no help to be found this is what it's all about the luck of the draw
6.
driftaway 07:28
DRIFTAWAY (e. fischer) no, i’m not your monkey i’m not given to leaps of faith the mapping of of names to the navel of the earth artful copies, the mundane deified i’m resigning my place in that cage i never did learn to swallow my rage i hereby register my intention to remain the outcast with the bad reputation i’ll leave the same way i came, from behind aimlessly drifting from day into night it is, as they say, a role i was born to play or maybe i just became that way drift away, drift away drift from day into night there seems no end in sight hand in hand my funny friends and i the connoisseurs of decorative spaces the constant defenders of the nearly dead sing to me of love, a sign of the times, that i’m a wreck but i’ve always admired those at the bottom of the deck with dulcet tones and pictures of homes they show me the meaning of dread so come all you exiles with broken legs you who live on and on in my weary head a thousand lone conspirators of the sublime sharpen your knives my partners in crime of hatred and virtue laugh straight to my face eloquently skinning me alive
7.
NOTHING'S EVER AS IT SEEMS (e.fischer) a poker playing relic in a flying machine plants another saint in the lost and found aimless and stupid, deceitful and mean he digs another hole into the dessicated ground yeah, that’s him, bonjour, welcome to the head of an insect mimicking the voices of the dead if you listen real careful, and get as close as you can get he’ll let you autograph, the medals on his chest permit me a small interjection if you will, an introspection injection won’t hurt too much, just sting a bit cut the sleeves, and the suit will fit while the poisoned dogs, reel off defeated dreams to the cold hard road, under their feet. a seer in a cheap shirt, swigging oil to stay alert shines the shit real good, but hey it still stays dirt nothin’s ever what it seems
8.
falling man 06:43
FALLING MAN (e. fischer) this beautiful place is a terrible place when you’re stateless, hiding in the grass who can you trust in an alligator town when you’re imperfect, in so many ways sacred places, secret gardens in the lingering fog of quiet desperation keeping watch on the gravity hopes of the fragile birds the future is full of sticks and stones the rules never change goodness echoes from far away and you don’t always have the words to explain the indelible sorrows of a warrior life the thin cement over cracks in the ground or why you rage at photographs of falling men falling man catch him if you can the loner who comes from somewhere else somewhere you have never been somewhere where the thrill you use to keep yourself alert, is only the operator of an elevator shoe shouting of spearspikes in the underground somewhere that is just as bad for someone who’s never been had falling man
9.
GIVE ME A REASON (e. fischer) dead man guides and virgin brides the ship of fools is out of control bring us the head of the next under-bridge troll take a pleasant stroll or a leisurely drive and leave the world be for a while you kill me, i kill you, from fright as we march singing into the long night too many people trying to get home like flies circling a dry piece of bone take a pleasant stroll... give me a reason if the truth must be told the good and bad drive some to drink but not me; it only makes me think i don't miss a thing sheer genius, this petard to the wind i'm not looking forward to spring and more and more i fear fall i see the fires coming oh the fires will burn tall take a pleasant stroll...
10.
this war 04:46
THIS WAR (e. fischer) the alarm keeps ringing in his head conversations, walking tours steps waking the silent dead walls lined with pictures of floors once he was alive, he remembers it well that was before the stairway to hell the decaying building, the doorways that scream the alarm that keeps ringing in his head a candle in the dark, the king's corsage spoonfuls of water, the salty sea an answering machine in a parking garage shredded and steeped in bitter tea dissecting the carcass of passing time spoonfuls of water, the salty sea bought and sold in a parking garage hard luck and hard won peace this war's about disease
11.
somebody 04:21
somebody told me, to make me happy and all that that the secret to living well, is to watch my back but to me that makes no sense cause i’ve nothing to fear i don’t drown my sorrows in soapy stinging tears there’s a new day coming, i can feel it in my bones and what that day will bring i prefer to leave unknown i’m not down, i’m only out, there is nothing that i need i got my passport to nowhere, where nothing’s guaranteed when all is said and done, and i’m watching someone peel the layers of another onion to try to learn how to feel i remember then that me i have no sorry tomorrows so here’s to (living well, a life that i won’t have to borrow goodbye good old boys with chains, goodbye good old girls with curls wretched, wrapped together, in twisted strings of pearls

about

drip audio 2009

============

credits

released April 29, 2014

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elizabeth fischer - vocals
gord grdina - guitar
chad macquarrie - guitar
tommy babin - bass
bernie arai - drums

guests on this recording:
tony wilson - guitar
peggy lee - cello
jack duncan - percussion
amy denio - accordion and bg. vocals
jp carter - trumpet
jesse and joshua zupot - strings
jesse zubot - violin and effects

produced by elizabeth fischer and greg reely
engineered by greg reely at the green jacket
basic tracks recorded at the armoury studios with rob stefanson, assistant engineer

all songs © socan

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darkblueworld Vancouver, British Columbia

"Songs that ache with truth" – CD of the Week, The Globe and Mail

“... a searing alternative to sweetness and light” - Down Beat

“Imagine an unholy union of Nina Hagen and Jim Morrison channeling Bertold Brecht and Rimbaud with a band made up of members of the Doors, the Velvet Underground and Pink Floyd and you’ll have some idea of DarkBlueWorld’s mesmerizing, hallucinatory sound...” – Coda
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