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Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Where My Heart Will Take Me (Theme from Star Trek Enterprise), El Cóndor Pasa, Dog Years: The Best of Language of Prairie Dogs 2005-2020, Lone Motherfuckers, We Will Go Up, #10 Xmas Record, The Water Boatman, Shelter In The Dark, and 4 more.
1. |
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"I have said to myself and others
that I'm going to swim that river
or die trying
- and I mean that quite literally.
I could die in that river, but that is not
my intention. My intention is to swim
through the rainforest to prove something.
In 1963, Dr Martin Luther King
had a dream that changed our world.
I too have a dream.
My dream is to swim
the Amazon
to prove to the world
that nothing is
surmountable."
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2. |
Shelter In The Dark
04:03
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I tell (to death) a memory of a rat - 'big as a fucking pig':
it swaggered between tables as if it owned the premises.
I can't do anything but tell it (if not to death) to wall its room.
It owned that grotty garden that fucking Sunday afternoon,
where it can shelter in the dark.
I have a kitchenette - no toilet, yet - but shower, sofa, bed;
the next rung is self-containment (must aspire). But who said
I'm not accommodating. I fought the mice into the floors
and if they stay there they can stay here; out of sight, out of my thoughts.
They can shelter in the dark.
The edges of my vision should be still - drifting with dreams;
not crawling with cockroaches. Quick, then still. Every beast
should have a fear and dread of man. This - 'big as a fucking mouse' -
still; steadily looking. I leap from sofa to bed; bleat-
no - command - it: shelter in the dark. Let me sleep - like the mice.
It tracks under my bed. That doesn't comfort. I've obliged
its stolid claim on majesty, as I have flattered rats.
But it should know it in its composition, antennae - from its
armoured hind down to lowered, bullish head -
it should know that it is flattened. I'm rattled. But
that's its only card - the rattling. That translates quickly to wrath.
It should have lived inside the walls. Can only fall on the warpath.
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3. |
The Tower of Babel
05:18
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'...and what, I ask - in short words - is "hubris"?
Does it kick into effect at fifteen cubits?
No - don't consult - it's no esoteric prod,
friend - just that Chapter 7:20 - you'll find a lot
of water. But I refer humbly to the Tower -
as a man who - several thousands of feet up -
found himself hailed in nonsense by his foreman,
and didn't get his urgency and now - thump -
faces this judiciary; this fudged charge
obscured in piled renditions and translations.
Were our hands dirty with "asphalt", "slime", or "bitumen"?
And were we "children" toiling there, or were we "men"?
"And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower-"
in which I was involved - "and the Lord said, Behold
the people are one, and they have all one language;
and this they begin to do; and nothing will
be withheld from them, which they have imagined to do."
A self-made bed if ever one was bemoaned:
Survivors - toughened and resolved to build
through collective loss and not be owned
by terror... "Covenant"? In those bulging clouds?
...You may enjoy your covenant, sir; I find I
like bricks…"Hubris"?…Well...swings and roundabouts...
Swings and...you twist my words! "HUBRIS‽"
I'll find my own way out.'
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4. |
All My Glass
03:10
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'What are you going to do with him, Cardinal?
My stomach crawls when I'm near him.
My duty must be - in some way - to forgive him.
But his new defiance...he speaks, now, against remorse.
Now, the very words I use to shepherd me back -
where I may err - he twists back on us,
like they mean something different. He's lost his shame in his acts-'
'This vase - whose is it, father?' 'Yours.'
'Correct. Now - smashed here on the ground -
whose is it, now?' 'Still yours.' 'Look,
the floor's now covered in ornamented glass.
Cracked glyphs, shards of patterns - look -
with edges that could slit your neck
as quietly lacerate your palms as
you stoop and gather them. Correct -
it's still all my glass. You should know my metaphor
by now - my answer. I've smashed
a lot on this floor to show you - repeating it.
Shattering things I can't then unbreak,
then stooping and cutting my hands on it.'
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5. |
Before The Demonstration
04:02
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"The demonstration was interesting and successful.
Messages were transmitted and received almost verbatim.
In conducting the demonstration messages were written
by a member of the staff and handed to the Indian;
he would transmit the messages in his tribal
dialect and the Indian on the other end
would write them down in English.
The text of messages as written and received
are enclosed. The Indians do not
have many military terms in their dialect
so it was necessary to give them a few minutes,
before the demonstration, to improvise
words for dive-bombing, anti-tank gun, etc."
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6. |
Jack
04:44
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'Give me my jack! I want my jack back!'
'What are you talking about? I don't know about a jack.'
'Someone's took my jack and I want it back.
It was outside my door and now it's gone - who's got it?'
'I haven't got your jack, you must have forgot where you put it.'
'I didn't forget anything - it was there and someone took it.
It's mine and someone took it and I want it back.
I need it - you find it - you get me back my jack!'
'How would I know where your jack is if I didn't take it?
What do you think I'm going to do with a jack?'
'One of your friends has got it - all the time,
they're traipsing through this place. One of them saw
the jack against my door and they took it
on their way out! - you'll phone them and you'll get it.'
'None of my friends have took your jack!'
'Give it! Get it! I want my jack - I need it back!'
'And I told you I haven't got it.'
'Your friends-!' 'They haven't got it!'
'You can't be sure!' 'Listen! - you must've misplaced it. Lost it.'
'You brought the trouble to this house
and I'm sick of it!'
'Oi - heh - what's going on?'
'One of his friends took my jack!'
'No - he lost it. I don't know anything about what happened to his jack.'
'You saw it.' 'When?' 'Sitting against my door -
till someone walked by and took it.'
'Listen-' 'I want it back! I want it back!'
'Listen a second-' 'Someone took it!'
'I want my jack! I want my jack back!
Give me my jack - I want my jack back...
...picked up my jack - one of your friends....!
Look - I want it back...I want my damn jack back!!!'
'You're not listening to me!'
'I'm sick of it!'
'I'm done - you're not listening.'
'Come back you-' <bang, thump> '- no!' 'Ey!'
'...my jack back-' 'Ah!' <scuffle> '...you...!' 'Heh stop this - this isn't...'
'I want it back!' <crash> 'Ah!'
'You brought the trouble to this house!'
'Ah...huh! - uh...' 'I told you to stop it!'
'Let him go!' 'Then keep him back!'
<stumble> 'You brought the trouble in this house!'
'Shut up!' 'Up you get...'
'My....j-'
<Slamming door.>
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7. |
"Cast Thyself Down"
01:52
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Know
that he hasn't got your back.
Whatever makes for argument;
whatever makes an argument -
that is (simply) that.
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8. |
We Will Go Up
03:52
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She looked down at his cookware and fanned her arms.
'Vous ne pouvez
pas allumer de feu içi - le
feuillage prend façilement feu.'
He watched her arms,
then the flow of the brook,
and contemplated: 'The stream floods.'
(Raising his own arms): '"Rises?"'
'Le terrain est très sec.
Le vent sec propage le feu.'
He looked up past the scrubland and into the forest.
'We'll relocate further up.
Thanks so much for warning us.
Away from that river.
"Flash floods"
We will go up.'
She swept animatedly at the valley
as if conducting an orchestra.
'Un petit feu peut façilement s’étendre et
brûler
une fôret
entière. Vous comprenez?'
He nodded hard, pointed:
'Thank - YOU. "WOOSH!" Our "STUFF"!
We will go - UP.'
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9. |
Railway Manias
04:08
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He had a name. Blew the whistle, waved off the train.
'Down the branch to Bedlam, sir,'
nodding me over. I laughed and when I did that,
somehow floundered; spluttered, 'You must pull
your savings out of the railways, for the wife and the girl...
By this year's end - come 1846 -
this will be - all of it, my friend,
Midland. As with Great Western.'
A little dazzled. 'Not an "impermanent slump"?'
I shook my head. 'The networks will stay
but what we've enjoyed - the fat, the euphoria -
as of now, that falls gracelessly away.'
He considered. 'Thank you for your honesty...
I'm placed in your debt. I suppose
I will repay one prophecy with another.
God spoke
at me once. Yesterday when the sun was out.
He took my hand and in the other,
swept up these intersecting lines creeping round the earth,
and spoke of the earth
soldered into a chorus.
Cloying, baying, for audience.
No verses. No construction.
And that, there, would be our last punishment.'
'The Lord told you this, did he?' to which he shrugged.
'Like you'd confided, He had to quench a need
- His, to gloat - but He didn't want anyone
to remember He had. So I had a heatstroke.'
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10. |
Lone Giant
03:31
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Whenever I think about The Shining, I think about the loveliness
of the proposition of Jack's employment, and of the tragedy
of how he blew it so completely. I keep my particular
fantasy of working in a lighthouse
(I'm sure, completely at odds with the reality):
Distanced almost immeasurably
and yet critically necessary.
I relate my fantasy to a friend who looks back at me
and, wolfishly, quizzes me on why I want to live
in a giant penis.
'Because I hate people, that's why.
That's why I want to live
in my giant penis.'
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11. |
A Tower of Babel
05:13
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'Let me tell you a story. An old man living
at the top of a tall, old tower block.
You've seen this movie. Developers looking
to pull it down, put new stuff up.
You'd call it a stalemate. He's refused every offer
and remains, neighbourless, while they tear
into the buildings around,
staking him out.
But damn him if he'll scare.
...the machinery
...At their advocates.
Those hyenas.'
A tower
A tower
A tower of Babel
'One day he calls for the lift. The lift stalls in the shaft.
Now, he’s too fragile for the stairs
- he'd break his neck -
so he trudges back to the flat, annoyed,
and waits for repairs.
He gets through what groceries are left,
and as the January days
wind out, he starves to death.
It lasts fewer than several days.
Some half dignified,
silent tumult in the cold,
then all gone, as if it never were.
You'd call it a…'
A tower
A tower
A tower of Babel.
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12. |
Remember The Teletubbies
04:09
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We can't speak with you again.
I can speak of and at you.
We tried all of the above, we
cast in marble,
at your side, a thing that
brought such obvious pleasure to your eyes.
At your side, a stone Teletubby.
It hurts to think about your name.
Baby, I struggle to to say your name.
What words - said or lettered - could cradle you?
Baby, I just want to speak something.
Both of us - we want to speak something.
Something. Anything. To anyone.
The stones aren't nothing.
The smile's not nothing
of all our love of you.
I love you!
That will stay.
Can't make it better. I can't utter - I can't stutter
anything that will weather, that will stay.
I know she's straining
when she says I did justice to our feelings.
The stones aren’t nothing.
The smile's not nothing
of all our love of you.
Everything here - vying for eminence,
record, or penitent.
Unravelling into the earth.
Going down in silence.
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Language of Prairie Dogs Manchester, UK
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