1. |
Nearly Music
03:32
|
|||
2. |
Freya Seward sat...
01:26
|
|||
3. |
Nearlyology
03:14
|
|||
|
Perhaps they’ll move to New York after all
She nearly bought the tickets on a whim
He nearly met Bob Dylan some years ago
By now he could have been best mates with him
Nearlyology
The study of what didn’t quite
Nearlyology
What we missed; what we still just might
He’s been very nearly true to her
She’s tasted breakdown on his lips
She’s nearly woken up herself in other beds,
Tempting arms around her hips
Nearlyology
The theory of the in between
Nearyology
What could have been
Now the letter in the post is nearly here.
News of new job, baby or disease
They dream of flying, very nearly very happy,
Across imaginary seas.
Perhaps they’ll move to New York after all
She nearly bought the tickets on a whim
He nearly met Bob Dylan some years ago
By now he could have been best mates with him
Nearlyology
The study of what didn’t quite
Nearlyology
What we missed; what we still just might
Nearlyology
The theory of the in between ..What could have been
|
||||
4. |
My Australia
03:55
|
|||
|
Across the lonely Ocean
Between the straits of nearly
Broken on the rocks of demon’s land
I’ve been far beyond
The past and other foreign countries -
In a wasteland
You’re where I dumped
My frights and dregs and crookedness
A place of yearnings from afar
In The desert where I nearly found a goldmine
Life forms amazing and bizarre
Moon shines on the edge of our forgetting
Your world and my world lost in space
Storm brewing in the clouds of my unknowing
Do you recognize my face?
Now I’m awakened
From the darkness to the dazzle -
My west my east my south my guiding star
You’re my newfoundland
You’re my undiscovered planet
You’re my Australia
Europe teeters on the brink of fresh catastrophe
Old world and the new world on their knees
Us and them locked in talks about talks
Let’s take a journey
Let’s make apology
For all our past atrocity
Time to bury hatchets,
Turn the leaf -
Be my dreamTime
My summer
My downunder
My Uluru rock, my barrier reef
Now I’m awakened
From the darkness to the dazzle -
My west my east my south my guiding star
You’re my newfoundland You’re my undiscovered planet,You’re my Australia
|
||||
5. |
In The Dozing
02:33
|
|||
6. |
These Associations
03:33
|
|||
|
Doing Sweden in a T4 Camper van
We sleep together like a curly ampersand
Every morning write our names in different sand
I like the way you speak your languages
I like the way you make your sandwiches
Wonder what your joy and anguish is.
All our dreams and circumstances
Percolating through the driving distances
Breaking through the cold resistances
We’re like children on a Treasure Island
Whose the noisy one and whose the silent one
Whose the follower and whose the driver on
I like our eyes I like the way we sway
I like the things we think the words we say
I like the smiles of us the playful way
We swarm and spin
Make tangles, triangles
Configurations, constellations,
Conceits and conversations
then swarm and sing
then begin again
I like the way you speak your languages
I like the way you make your sandwiches
Wonder what your joy and anguish is.
Got a map a ticket and a mystery
Now you’re digging through some deep dark history
Can I tell you how it really is to me?
Fall fall falling
Into the space between us all
For for for forming
These associations
|
||||
7. |
Simultaneous Translation
03:54
|
|||
8. |
Jamie Would...
01:06
|
|||
9. |
A Modern Wonder
02:50
|
|||
|
I was feeling sad and cold,
devoid of new ideas
Defunct, Redundant –
that’s when you appeared
You came into my life
When I was running out of steam
Took me to the cleaners -
Brought me home steam cleaned
You’re a Modern Wonder,
A miracle of sciences
You turn up the colour
On my black and white appliances
You’re a modern wonder
A star of networked screen
You’re electricity,
You’re wi-fi, you’re windolene.
When all was death and gloom - one endless night
You came into my room, switched on all the lights
You rebooted me - refitted me for purpose
You wiped clean all my dirty surfaces
A modern wonder, A bloody splendour
Smart like a computer, Buzzy like a hand held blender
You’re a modern wonder, And I love you madly true
You’re a modern wonder, And you’re all things that are shiny bright brand new
And with you I’m going to waste no time
And with you I’m going to make things happen
And with you I’m going to waste no time
And with you I’m going to make things happen
You’re a modern wonder
With all the latest drives and gadgets
You’re a modern wonder
You’re working close up magic
You’re a modern wonder
You astound me you amaze
You’re a modern wonder
It’s amazing the things that they can do these days!
|
||||
10. |
Nearly There
02:40
|
|||
|
When the night turns ugly
You wake up cold and bare
You think you've lost the plot but
You’re Nearly there
When the page is empty
Too much time to stand and stare
Still nothing’s on the tip of your tongue
You’re Nearly There
Oh Freya Redcoat
It’s growing dark - the wolves are howling
I can feel your breath so close
Please come home safely darling
When your head flames dark with dread
You find ashes in your hair
Feel so close to burn out bu
You’re Nearly There
When you’re cold and lost outside
Can’t find redemption anywhere
And then the rain starts falling
You’re Nearly There
Oh Freya Redcoat
It’s night – the pages turning
Bedtime story nearly told
Please sleep soundly darling
When you find your lullaby
Sounds like nothing but hot air
Inspiration may be on its way
You're nearly there
|
||||
11. |
||||
|
STILL LIFE WITH CHRYSLER BUILDING
Still life with Chrysler Building
Bright sun on icy pane
Snow on Bleeker, Steam in Brooklyn
Can’t believe I’m here again
It’s been a few years since I’ve been walking these amazing spaces
Lower East Side, Greenwich Village taking notes and drawing faces
Reading By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept
Dreaming American Dreams but I hardly slept
Remembering when somebody said that time,
Of all the cafés in the all the world you had to walk into mine
Still Life with Chrysler Building
Black lines on winter snow
Saul Steinberg made the drawings
Of the places where we go
On the ferry on the boardwalk, walk with Anna, Coney Island
Down by Dumbo, Soho, Moma, In the subway, on the Highline
All these American names will fade away
As the earth realigns and the green turns to grey
The big chill kicks in - the world rearranges
All blown away as everything everything changes
Still life with Chrysler Building
Bright sun on icy panes
Snow on Bleeker, Steam in Brooklyn
Can’t believe we’re here again
My friend Chunk says it’s all changed since he came over in the Eighties
Money talks and muggers just can't afford the rent these days
Kids in hoodies on their cell phones making calls and taking selfies
Still got things to say
We’ve all got things to say
|
||||
12. |
Mud and Sand
04:17
|
|||
|
MUD AND SAND
I’ve been travelling
Wayfaring this my native land
Past stately homes and standing stones
- the national brand
And now I feel them crumbling
Turn to powder in my hand
My skin is paper thin with sorrow
In a world of mud and sand
Mud and Sand
It’s unravelling
The force that through the green fuse ran,
Too many elegies
too many hearts club bands.
Silent as a surgery
A tomb, a room, a secret plan
Come closer – let me whisper
Of a place of mud and sand
Mud of Sand
Shall we stay here me and you
Where the sea is dark ink blue
In a beach hut made of card and glue
We walk beyond the carpark
Past the pub, into the dark -
Our island story arc.
Now we’ve driven
Far beyond the sat nav’s scan
Seahouses Shingle Street,
Mersea Island, Poundland
Driven round a thousand bends
Under stars we understand
Why we seek that stretch of coast
The map calls Mud and Sand
Shall we stay here me and you
Where the sea is dark ink blue
In a beach hut made of card and glue
We’ll dream of sheep tonight
Grazing under greying light
The beach bone white
It’s unravelling
The force that through the green fuse ran,
Too many elegies
too many hearts club bands.
Silent as a surgery
A tomb, a room, a secret plan
Come closer – let me whisper
Of a place of mud and sand
Mud of Sand
|
||||
13. |
A Bigger Sky
04:14
|
|||
|
Raga morning Rainbow Gardens
Cat sits in the blossoming trees
You and I, why should we ever leave?
A hundred blessings, a hundred pardons
Story park full of poems, prayers and pleas,
Blown away in the sweet North London breeze
There’s a car horn blaring streets away
We can stay in bed. We could read all day
Raga noon Rainbow Gardens
Light pours down from a bigger sky
Where now, for you and I?
No rain - pathway’s hardened
The ground in Highgate Woods is warm and dry
What shall we do there? We’ll get high
And we can touch the endless blue -
Paint the bigger picture - just we two
Raga evening Rainbow Gardens
Time to talk and laptop, drink and cook
Everyday we nearly write the mac-book
A hundred blessings, a hundred pardons
Story park full of poems, prayers and pleas,
Blown away in the sweet North London breeze
Evening falls the night is warm
Under a bigger sky, all is calm
And all we are is now and here
Under a bigger sky, this small idea
|
||||
14. |
Mound of Soil
00:37
|
|||
15. |
In The Nearly
02:37
|
|||
|
IN THE NEARLY
In the nearly
When I wondered if you’d kiss me
In the nearly
I just hoped you might approach me
In the nearly
When the evening spread before us
And in our eyes all
was possibility
In the nearly
Your fingers brushed me like a feather
In the nearly
We curled up warm together
In the nearly
We could see the stars so clearly
And we looked out
into eternity
Children standing on the edge
imagining the games they’ll play
Watching all that turn to dust
and blow away
In the nearly Remembering what didn't
In the nearly What we should and what we couldn't
In the nearly
When something perfect almost happened
All that now
Is less than memory
|
||||
16. |
The Nearly Puppets
01:31
|
|||
17. |
from THE NEARLY BOOK
04:32
|
|||
18. |
How To Compose
03:53
|
|||
|
How To Compose
This is a song inspired by a song
Much better than this one by someone far more brilliant than me.
Her music
Helps transcends the confines of mundane reality
I want to tell you what
I felt when the choir stood and sang its bloody heart right out
feel free to make
Something far less than what I’m inspired about
So it goes
Creativity leaves you exposed
How to Compose
This is a story based on a story
A painting, a movie, a website, a chat, a book I once read.
I mingle and mangle them up
With whatever else is currently stuck in my head
You know that thing
When you’re just about to write it down and then you panic
I need to push through
The moment of doubt to see what arrives if you let it
So it goes
Creativity leaves you exposed
How To Compose
And this bit’s new and sort of mine
Don’t know why I walk the line
Remixing love and guilt and rage
The Liquid Book, electric page
In stereo, in black and white
colouring in what I write
A manifesto for the age
The Liquid Book, Electric page
This is a poem well, not quite a poem.
A lyric, a noise, a series of words
Broadcast and published in people’s hearts
if it’s actually heard.
You know that thing
When you’re just about to write it down and then you panic
I need to push through
The moment of doubt to see what arrives if you let it
I want to tell you what
I felt when the choir stood and sang its bloody heart right out
feel free to make
Something far less than what I’m inspired about
So it goes
Creativity leaves you exposed
But that’s How to Compose
|
||||
Chris & The Ifso London, UK
Digital writer and nearlyologist Chris Ifso makes digital and transmedia fiction including songs, sound, live workshops and performance. The Ifso Band are Chris on ukulele, Alistair McEachern on bass, Abbie Coppard vocals, Iain Stewart on guitar.
If you like Chris & The Ifso, you may also like:
featured on Bandcamp Radio Dec 3, 2013
go to album
The Edge of the Land
by Katie Spencer
Spencer's indie folk sophomore album was recorded live in the studio over the course of two days.
go to album
A Place Like Home
by Mr. Alec Bowman_Clarke
The new EP from Scottish songwriter Alec Bowman_Clarke goes deep, setting vulnerable lyrics to gentle melodies & stripped-back arrangements.
go to album
I Used To Be Sad & Then I Forgot
by Mr. Alec Bowman_Clarke
Alec Bowman perfectly captures the dark soil under the pastoral world of British folk with this collection of melancholy originals.
go to album
For She Who Hangs The Moon
by David Luximon
Expansive music that has the gentle hush of ambient and the insistent pulse of post-rock; enveloping and absorbing.
go to album
Sorry I'm So Sensitive
by Bea Stewart
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed.
go to album
Michelle Stodart’s folk music captures hope in melancholy, addressing the transformational aspects of the most challenging times.
go to album
