IRepeatMyselfWhenUnderStressIRepeatMyselfWhenUnderStressIRepeatMyselfWhenUnderStress
...and what do I remember?Red. More red. Even more red. Then the red tearing open to reveal a savannah, and in the savannah, hearing the trumpeting of elephants that I can’t tell whether they're more Indian or more African, and solitary rhinoceroses coming towards me (grrrr grrrr grrrr grrrr) among hysterical metronomic gamelantrophic guitars (sadistic ruthless eardrum violators), and in a room mirrors shattering - pieces of glass on the ground in a tremendous horrid indecipherable clamor... and running but not knowing where, and finding myself without knowing how inside King Bhumipol’s palace among disorderly, rude, possessed dancers and percussionists playing with time and mocking it - and time disjointing, overlapping, superimposing, departing but not returning, while the colors are changing or it’s simply me who sees them change...
Blue. More blue. Even more blue. And in the blue feeling a pounding kick drum among the swarm of souls in the Tangier bazaar - arabesque arabic arabesque tachycardia of relentless beats (tu/tu ta, tu/tu ta, tu/tu ta), systole of kick / diastole of snare - sharp dull thud without echo, and accompanying the kick is the gastroesophageal reflux of a Chapman Stick played by a little mustached man, and the heart bouncing ricocheting bouncing against the chest and then climbing until I feel it in my throat, uncontrollable irregular frantic beats, the sensation of hands in my hair, the rhythm rising and anxiety growing and breath lacking - and the colors changing again...
Yellow. More yellow. Even more yellow. And in the yellow, appearing lark tongues in jelly, walking climbing slipping on those tongues, and again guitars unwind like and more than those tongues, ceaselessly - relentless furious rhythm, delirium delirium delirium, then suddenly the rhythm slows and explodes/burns infernos of noise without a slit without an exit without breath, waves fogs fumes of inconclusive unended infinite despair, then the rhythm resumes and descends again, drums bass bass drums... Pulsation. Beat. More and more regular...
Stasis.
Peace.
Dead calm.
I LIKE IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tracklist and Lyrics
03 Thela Hun Ginjeet (07:07)
Thela hun ginjeet thela hun ginjeet
Qua tari mei thela hun ginjeet
Qua tari mei heat in the jungle street
"Well, first of all,
I couldn't even see his face.
I couldn't see his face.
He was holding a gun in his hand.
Umm... I was thinking...
This is a dangerous place..
This is a dangerous place.."
Thela hun ginjeet thela hun ginjeet.
Qua tari mei thela hun ginjeet.
Qua tari mei heat in the jungle street.
I said, "I'm nervous as hell from this stuff.
I thought those guys were going to kill me for sure.
They ganged up on me like that.
I couldn't believe it.
Look, I'm still shakin'.
Weird.
There out in the streets like that.
It's a dangerous place.
It's a dangerous place."
So, suddenly, these two guys appear in front of me.
They stopped.
Real aggressive.
Start at me, you know.
"What's that?" "What's that on that tape?"
"What do you got there?"
I said, "huh?"
They said, "What are you talking into that for?"
I said, "It's just a tape, you know"
"Well play it for me"
I said "oh, no"
I put it off as long as I could.
And finally they turned it on, you know
They grabbed it from me.
Took it away from me.
Turned it on.
And it said, "He held a gun in his hand. This is a dangerous place."
They said, "What dangerous place?" "What gun?" "You're a policeman!"
And the deeper I talked, the worse I got into it.
I talked, I told him... I said, "Look man, I'm not talkin'...."
It went on forever.
Anyway, I finally unbuttoned my shirt, and said,
"look, look... I'm in this band, you know, I'm in this band you know,
and we're makin' a recording, you know.
It's about New York City, it's about crime in the streets..."
The explanation was going nowhere, but,
Finally, they just kinda let me go, I don't know why.
So I walk around the corner,
and I'm like shakin' like a leaf,
and I thought, "This is a dangerous place once again, you know."
Who should appear, but two policeman.
05 Matte Kudasai (03:45)
Still, by the window pane
Pain, like the rain that's falling
She waits in the air
Matte Kudasai
She sleeps in a chair
In her sad America
When, when was the night so long
Long, like the notes I'm sending
She waits in the air
Matte Kudasai
She sleeps in a chair
In her sad America
07 Dig Me (03:59)
Its here I sit and rust amid this ruin and rancor like tire irons
toothy grills and car parts before me. . .the acid rain floods my
floorboard, burns my pores and rots my upholstery. . .once I was
worshipped, polished magnificently, now I lay in decay by the dirty
angry bay. . .
I'm ready to leave
I wanna get out of here
I'm ready to ride away
I don't wanna die in here
I'm ready to ride. . .
My skin is metallic now, no longer and elegant powder blue. . .my body
unhinged and sleeping in the jungle of motor block manifolds and metal
relics. . .what was deluxe becomes debris, I never questioned loyalty,
but this dead end demolishes the dream of an open highway.
Dig me. . .but don't. . .bury me
08 Three of a Perfect Pair (04:30)
she is susceptible
he is impossible
they have their cross to share
three of a perfect pair...
he has his contradicting views
she has her cyclothymic moods
they make a study in despair
three of a perfect pair...
one, one too many
schizophrenic tendencies
keeps it complicated
keeps it aggravated
and full of this hopelessness
what a perfect mess...
09 Indiscipline (08:14)
I do remember one thing.
It took hours and hours but..
by the time I was done with it,
I was so involved, I didn't know what to think.
I carried it around with me for days and days..
playing little games
like not looking at it for a whole day
and then.. looking at it.
to see if I still liked it.
I did.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat..
The more I look at it,
the more I like it.
I do think it's good.
The fact is..
no matter how closely I study it,
no matter how I take it apart,
no matter how I break it down,
It remains consistant.
I wish you were here to see it.
I like it.
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