Impossible Songs Roughboys
Impossible Songs: Rough Boys. Fourteen easy pieces done, overdone and undone the hard way from Impossible Songs - new material / reworking / replaying / watching / witching / sketching and playing: Hunter* God bless the witch* Time of your life* Tragedy queen* Old enough* White and red* The crow wars I miss that boy* Totencult Nobody Jones* Not Pretty* Rainbow* Hidden Soul Dickie bird All tracks mixed and remastered by those Roughboys: Tracks * Recorded March 2006 at Muffel Studios, Friedrichafen, Germany. Produced by Martin Freitag. Other tracks recorded and produced at Upper Parkhead, South Queensferry, Scotland by the Roughboys, May thru August 2006. All songs written and performed by John Barclay and Alison Hutton - details: John Barclay - Guitars and vocals Alison Hutton - Vocals Martin Freitag - Bass, synths and drum programmes Siggi Richter - Keyboards Thanks to: Martin, Heike, Siggi, Emma, Paul, Joseph, Olivia, Erin, Guy, Timothy, Emma (S), Taylor, Finlay, Jonathan, Gillian and Elijah for champagne, picnics, beer and sausages, parties and pantomimes, long afternoons and late evenings and being in Scotland. Thanks also to Nintendo, YOP, Google and Mazda for fun, health, strength and transport. Three poems that may explain: End feeling like a loosened end an unwrapped ball of string wondering when I clambered down where I misplaced the will to sing secrets splashed across the screen naked offering to the crowd weighed and judged with nothing known forbidden feelings now so loud needing things we dare not seek holding tight to histories missing times we\'ve never shared scared to acknowledge fantasies. Dreaming of Tir-na-nog Nations raging as indifference prevails Night falls and the candles flicker and fail In the sunset. Reminders of the explosions in the past The failures and the final gasps. The evening draws it's funeral watch The mind claws for it's conscious reward Here are the efforts of the day All things dreamt and imagined pass away New to you I come Tired and silent To the beating of a hollow drum Still in a Celtic fog I lay me down in Tir-na-nog Celtic beauty, American shade Turn the world to purple the eyes away I lay me down in this Western fog Steal my soul for Tir-na-nog, Steal my soul for Tir-na-nog. Hidden soul Finding that hidden soul Beyond the places we can control Finding that hidden soul Between the spaces and mental folds Seeing the bigger truth Picture painted of something new Explore a language above the clouds To realise and have no doubt.