Lyrics & Notes On The Tracks

TRACK 1 - CESARE THE SOMNAMBULIST

Under the hypnotic control of the evil Dr. Caligari, poor Cesare, fast asleep, and wearing too much make-up and wrinkled black tights, staggers through the cardboard streets of Expressionist Town in search of victims for his sinister master. Later, as he sleepwalks home carrying a nubile female, who has conveniently fainted into his arms, Cesare is dreaming about something else entirely.

Judge writes:
Steve’s initial solo guitar backing track arrived subtitled ‘Sleepwalking with a guitar’, after the character in ‘The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari’. As was to happen often during the project, I found wonderful melodic and harmonic elements, deep within this astonishingly grungy and distorted track, which I brought out with choral voices, and set rocking with heavy drums, and orchestral crash cymbals for the finale.

Steve writes:
At the risk of being pretentious (perish the thought!), the album is sequenced after Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, progressing from darkness to light. What could be darker than sleepwalking?

‘Chezz Array’ is trying the test he heard about on Oprah – Dr. Oz says to wrap a small sheet of glue-type postage stamps, the ones with the perforated edges, around the base of your penis at bedtime. If the perforations are torn in the morning, the function is normal. If not, see a doctor. This song occurs halfway to the dawn.

TRACK 2 - SHOW ME YOUR OIL

Geopolitical porno; a titillating peek at an abusive, co-dependent relationship East of Suez.

Judge writes:
Steve’s first backing track for this song arrived entitled "Arabic Chaos – Remixed and rejiggered samples from an ‘arabic keyboard’. More like this please."

I composed and performed an operatic ‘recitativo con continuo’, with a harpsichord and trumpet accompaniment, and Steve did indeed do ‘more like this’, producing strange, and to my ears, very sad, pitch-shifted thumps on goatskin drums, moaning viols, and an extraordinarily evocative oil-well effect.

After passing through many reworkings and alternative versions, the sounds of a Small War, and Steve’s CIA intervention were added to point-up the album’s most overtly political number.

Steve writes:
Oil is dark when it's dirty. The embedded back-masking and fart sounds re-enact a moment that surely occurred in the White House - Dick Cheney was plotting to discredit former Ambassador Joe Wilson for squealing in the Times about the complete lack of evidence for Saddam’s attempted purchase of partially processed uranium known as “Nigerian yellowcake”. Having decided that a suitable payback might be outing Joe’s beautiful CIA agent wife Valerie Plame in the media, Cheney plants the seed in his Chief of Staff “Scooter” Libby, who is about to meet with members of the press. “OK Scooter, here’s what you tell ‘em,” he whispers, “Valerie Plame - is CIA.”

LYRICS

Show me your oil
Let me see it
Let me look at your oil
I love it when you show me your oil
You are so beautiful
You are so beautiful
You and your oil.

Let me touch it
Let me touch your oil
I want to feel your oil
You are so beautiful
I love you
I love you
You and your oil.

I hate the idea
Of anyone else seeing your oil
Never show anyone else
Never let anyone else
Look at your oil
And I would rather die
Than let anyone else
Touch your oil
I would kill you before
I let anyone else
Touch your oil.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry
I’m so sorry
I will never do that again
I only get like this because
I love you so much
I love you so much
You and your oil

Now show me your oil.

© 2007 Judge Smith / Steve Defoe

TRACK 3 - BUCCANEERS

In the oily swell off a nameless coast, the pirate crew crouch in their Zodiac, fondling their RPG’s. Their villainous chief checks his Kalashnikov and commands patience. Other ships pass by in the night, but they wait for their chosen prey, the good ship ‘Glitterball’. At last it hoves in sight and the Zodiac revs its engines and closes in for the kill. However, the buccaneers are in for a shock. The pride of the Disco Line has been equipped with the latest in Non-Lethal Weaponry, and this Pirate King is going to be forced to consider a radical career-change. Probably.

Judge writes:
This track had its origins in two separate sound constructions received from Steve, the first a remarkable collage of musical sounds that reminded me of lapping water, bell-laden buoys and the growl of outboard motors, and the second a hilarious piece of manic Disco. A mutual obsession with a bizarre ‘sound-weapon’, that is now being fitted to merchant vessels to repel pirates, led to our scenario for the song. And a recording of the weapon itself was referenced to help create our own, in tempo, version of the horrid warble of the ‘Deaf Ray’.

I submitted some lyrics that Steve crowned with a splendid gag, and later he produced some typically bizarre guitar ‘interventions’ and some frenzied strumming on what is apparently a toy piano . My friend Dark Sue was persuaded to be the pre-recorded warning message of the audio-gun weapons system, while Steve’s friend Aysel delivers a multi-tracked discourse on the dreaded Long-Range Audio Device itself.

Steve writes:
Buccaneers is probably based on a true story. The trigger is pulled, the energy level rises. This was the last hurrah for the toy piano, now it rusts in peace at the dump.

LYRICS

It hurts my ears
It hurts my ears.
I sail the Seven Seas
And I do what I please,
But that Audio Gun
Is gonna spoil my fun.
Won’t be a pirate no more,
I’m gonna stay on shore,
Because it hurts my ears
It hurts my ears

It hurts my ears
It hurts my ears.
My buccaneering boys
They really hate that noise.
So they’re coming with me
We gonna leave the sea,
And we’re not too proud
To say it’s much too loud,
And it hurts our ears
It hurts our ears

It hurts my ears
It hurts my ears.
We’ll miss our piracy
’Cos we live wild and free,
But we won’t get drowned
And we won't hear that sound
That gets inside my brain
And gives me so much pain
Yes it hurts my ears
It hurts my ears
IT HURTS MY BUCCANEERS!

© 2007 Judge Smith / Steve Defoe

TRACK 4 - SISTER BEES

The brutal honey-farmers, with their savage bee-hounds, are coming to rob the bees of their golden harvest, and they direct their latest weapon of control, the dreaded Long-Range Audio Gun, at a defenceless hive. However the attack is witnessed by the heroic Queen of the neighbouring colony. Their hive will be next, and she calls her bees out in a swarm to see the impending threat. How are they to respond to this crisis? Back in the hive, the Sister Bees discuss the situation amongst themselves, but soon their mind is made up, and out they swarm, to tell the Queen of their democratic decision. They’re not going to take it anymore! Fortunately, the Queen has a plan, and the honey-farmers will be in for a surprise…

Judge writes:
This track began life as instrumental from Steve which, with its high-energy buzzing and murmuring, soon became associated in our minds with a hive of bees. I added a fast, jazz-style rhythm track, while Steve produced some bee-related vocals, including a sound-collage of a pitch-shifted Aysel talking on the phone with her sister in Turkey, which in our fevered imaginations, sounded like bees in conversation.

From the attic, I dug out my old Euphonium, that I had abjectly failed to learn as a child, and used it to make the mighty brass chorale complete with its many farts and bum notes, and the whole confection was seasoned with real bee-song.

Steve writes:
That f-in’ euphonium really rocks – my one regret in life is that the “massed horns of Judex” have not been reprised.

I am absolutely sure farmers make honey by squeezing bees over a jar. And I love Aysel Hanim.

LYRICS

Squeezin’ bees to get their honey
That’s how the farmer makes his money.
Get down on your knees
And squeeze the bees
As hard as you please.
Get down on your knees
And squeeze the bees
As hard as you please.
Hit the nest with sonic stress
Dim the lights and guess the rest.
Knockin’em out with just one stun
From the Long-Range Audio Gun.

© 2007 Judge Smith / Steve Defoe

TRACK 5 - SURFER JOE

The legend of Surfer Joe, the phantom tsunami-rider of Malibu, and his search for love.

Judge writes:
A more than usually bizarre guitar improvisation from Steve arrived, entitled ‘Surfer Joe’, apparently prompted by my mentioning that I liked Dick Dale, ‘King of the Surf Guitar’. Sure enough Steve’s track was redolent of all things Surf (assuming that the surf was breaking on a beach on Mars), and I was inspired to compose a surf song to go with it, dusting off an aged Farfisa organ, and practicing my Brian Wilson harmonies.

Steve recorded his majestic interpretation of my lyrics, and wisely decreed that the Voice of Joe should not be the standard rotting-corpse voice from a horror film, but should reveal the childlike nature of this Sepulchral Surfer. An additional guitar solo lasting less than half a minute was apparently the edited result of 13 minutes of recordings. The end of the track is interrupted by the arrival of Joe’s very own tidal wave.

Steve writes:
Hollywood told Judge Americans say goofy things when they fall in love, it may be true. This song was inspired by a snow globe I bought on a trip to LA. My Rexina guitar never sounded so good - thanks, Judge!

LYRICS

There’s an undead dude all the surfers know.
Surfer Joe, Surfer Joe,
He was drowned and dead thirty years ago.
Surfer Joe, Surfer Joe,
But he won’t sleep quiet in his watery grave,
He surfs the ocean on a tidal wave,
That’s no way to behave!
Surfer Joe.

He’s got bits missing but he just won’t quit.
Surfer Joe, Surfer Joe,
His board’s all covered with weeds an’ shit.
Surfer Joe, Surfer Joe,
He’s the gnarliest corpse you’ve ever seen,
He’s got big holes where the fish have been,
He’s phosphorescent green.
Surfer Joe.

A Barracuda chewed off his dick.
Surfer Joe, Surfer Joe,
But he still wants to find him a surfer chick.
Surfer Joe, Surfer Joe,
So he’s surfing across the ocean blue,
To get his decomposing hands on you,
Then he’ll take you to the barbecue.
Surfer Joe.

JOE: I love you…
         I really love you…
         Let me hold your hand…
         I love you…

He’s caught a wave and it’s heading West,
Surfer Joe, Surfer Joe,
Two hundred feet from trough to crest,
Surfer Joe, Surfer Joe,
He’s hanging five on that awesome curl
And he’s thinking about his surfer girl.
He’s coming fast, and he can’t wait
He’s laying waste to half the State,
Then he’ll ask you for a date.
Surfer Joe.

JOE: I love you…
         I really love you…
         Let me hold your hand…
         Gee, you look swell..
         Your hair smells nice..
         I love you…

© 2007 Judge Smith / Steve Defoe

TRACK 6 - SENSITIVITY

Steve writes: A song about some poor bastard who was ultra-sensitive to the moods/events in the world, like a human antenna, picking up vibes from people and events in his environment, constantly re-tuning and amplifying his own vibes in response.

Judge writes:
This song, with lyrics by Steve, began life as a recording of his vocals, recited without any accompaniment, except his dog barking and a few strange, congested bass interjections. I decided that my role should be to create the missing musical framework for this really remarkable piece, and I did this using the sounds of a woodwind quintet (clarinet, oboe, flute, bassoon and bass clarinet).

The closing lyrics demand a 60 Hz hum, and I was amused to discover that my Cubase digital audio software, provides a specific module for producing hisses, crackles, hums (at 60 Hz, or 50 Hz for that special UK hum), and other undesirable artefacts from earlier epochs of recorded sound.

Steve writes:
It’s very autobiographical, I don’t want to talk about it.

LYRICS

What's a blessing and a curse?
Sensitivity
It makes it better and it makes it worse
Sensitivity
You don't want to be like me
Sensitivity

Woolite
Chai
Wars far away
Cheese burgers
Pomme frites
The look in my loved one's eye

Tell the doctor call the nurse
Write the chapter pen the verse
blond-haired fat sequined nurse
Esrever ni rac reh sevird
Drives her car in reverse
While I drive the hearse

You don't want to be like me
Sensitivity
You don't want to be like me
Sensitivity

Stop that 60 Hz hum
Stop that chewing gum
Stop that barking
Stop that baby crying
Stop your squeaking shoes
Stop picking on me
Shut up, Shut up

© 2007 Judge Smith / Steve Defoe

TRACK 7 - BALLOON

Steve writes: This song is not autobiographical in any way! I kept seeing stray balloons that landed in weird places – on the highway, in the back yard, by the wheels of Fifi’s Morris Minor.

Judge writes:
Like the previous track, ‘Balloon’ arrived as a solo vocal performance, but this time sung, a cappella, rather than just recited. We had previously exchanged several photos of deflated toy balloons (as you do) so this song subject did not come as a surprise to me.

Making the piano and clarinet accompaniment for this song gave me particular pleasure, as did creating some of the ‘Balloon Symphonies’ that go between the verses. (Six months later, I’m still finding bits of balloon scattered around the studio.) Steve was uncharacteristically doubtful about his, shall we say, ‘free’ vocal performance, and had to be persuaded of its considerable charm.

LYRICS

This is the place the balloon ended up
When it escaped and flew away from the party
This is the place the balloon ended up
When it escaped and flew away from the party

It spent some time stuck up in the tree
Now it’s all small and shrivelled and useless.
It spent some time stuck up in the tree
Now it’s all small and shrivelled like me.

This is the place the balloon ended up
It got away and it flew from the party.
This is the place the balloon ended up
When it escaped and flew from the party
This is the place the balloon ended up
After it spent some time up in the tree
Now it’s all small and shrivelled like me.

Purple and silver it flew to the sun
Now we can see its life’s work is done.
Purple and silver it flew to the sun
Now we can see its life’s work is done.

Out in the dirt all shrivelled and bare
It doesn’t have any more air.

© 2007 Judge Smith / Steve Defoe

TRACK 8 - PIMENTO HEAD

Steve writes: This was the first song Judge and I did, it’s my favourite. Pimento Head is an homage to the slightly retarded kids from my earliest days working as a grocery clerk. Ollie and Jeff were brothers, they really did go fishing in the sewer, Charlie had a wart removed, Dave was so pigeon-toed we called him Paddlefoot and performed a cruel dance in his honor.

Judge writes:
Like the previous song, this Steve composition arrived as unaccompanied singing and I provided a musical setting. This is one of my personal favourites from the album.

LYRICS

Pimento Head
Pimento Head
(not Zucchini Head)
(not Zucchini Head)
and Jeff said
and Jeff said:
"There's a stink bomb in my locker!
Stink bomb!
There's a stink bomb in my locker!
stink bomb!"

Then Ollie said
to Jeff's head
(Jeff's his brother)
and Pimento Head
AND Zucchini Head
(but not Dave's head):
"Let's go fishin' in the sewer!
Let's go fishin' in the sewer!
Let's go fishin' in the sewer!"

Don't forget Dave,
my friend Dave.
My little buddy Dave,
Paddle footin' Dave.
Paddle footin'
Paddle footin'
Paddle footin'
Paddle footin'

And Charlie said,
and Charlie said:
"Pimento Head,
I've got a wart.
Wanna see my wart?
I'm gonna get my wart removed -
on Tuesday!"

Pimento Head
Pimento Head
(Not Zucchini Head)
(Not Zucchini Head)
and Jeff said
and Jeff said:
"Let's go fishin' in the sewer!
Let's go fishin' in the sewer!
Let's go fishin' in the sewer!"

© 2007 Judge Smith / Steve Defoe

TRACK 9 - THE KISSING SONG

The Forces of Darkness are dispelled, despite their protests, and without much difficulty, by a small Chamois.

Judge writes:
This track came about due to my enthusiasm for a little song, written by my girlfriend Fifi, who, while on a bus with me in Greece a few years ago, announced that she was just as good a songwriter as I was, and would prove it. She then proceeded to sing this brief but plangent composition, which I later captured for this album.

The Forces of Darkness are represented by brief snatches of a twenty-minute noise symphony by Steve, of unparalleled ferocity, which I had earlier tried, but failed, to make any meaningful contribution to. Steve is lavish with his material.

Steve writes:
In my humble role as a force of darkness, I originally provided large-scale samples of bomb blasts, gun shots, babies crying, church bells and the most realistic vomiting sounds ever recorded as dramatic juxtapositions to the sweet sweet sounds of Fifi Chamiox, never even thinking that puke may offend. Judge rightly vetoed my samples, substituting instead some unused rowlf sounds from an earlier version of Thingmaker.

LYRICS

La la la la
La…La
La la la la
La…La
La la la la
La…La
La la la la
Mmoi! Mmoi! Mmoi!

La la la la
Mmoi! Mmoi! Mmoi!

© 2007 Fifi Chamoix

TRACK 10 - THINGMAKER

The primal creative urge asserts itself, and the artist pummels his brains in an effort to obey. His creation is rejected by all, but he feels forced to repeat the painful process, and this time he persuades some passing dogs to help realize his vision. For a third time he feels compelled to make an artwork, and having cudgelled his brains yet again, he presents a piece featuring a group of demented nuns, which moves the authors of this parable to discuss the true nature of the artistic imperative.

Judge writes:
‘Thingmaker’ is named after a childhood modelling kit of Steve’s. I built the three mini garage rock numbers on Steve’s guitar improvisations, and he also created the visceral linking passages.

In September 2007, Steve visited me in Sussex to finalise the mixes for the album, and we were able to record the final dialogue, working together in the same studio for the first and only time. The continuous cries of ‘Make a Thing!’ express the crude motivation that perhaps underlies all artistic endeavours.

Steve writes:
The original Thingmaker toy was destroyed in my parent’s basement in 1969. Essentially a small electric oven, its purpose was to make ‘Creepy Crawlers’ using ‘Plastigoop’ and molds. I came in from the pool, dripping wet in my bathing suit, hankerin’ to make a thing. But the basement is below ground, so when I plugged in the oven I got the shock of my life, and the Thingmaker never worked again. Thankfully I saved the box.

LYRICS

Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Make a Thing! Make a Thing!
Etc.

Just make a thing…
Make it good…
That’s what we’re here for…
So make a thing…
Who cares what kind of thing…
Make it now…
A thing…
What else is there to do?…

© 2007 Judge Smith / Steve Defoe

TRACK 11 - LIGHT

This is an image of the light that blinds, the light that confuses, the light that dazzles and disorients. This is light that does nothing to illuminate the surrounding darkness. As composer Steve explains, this is not really light light, but dark light.

Judge writes:
This piece is another remarkable instrumental collage by Steve, where my role was to identify melodic and harmonic elements already there in the music, and to bring them out by having other instruments play them.

In this case I used choral voices, French horns and a xylophone.

Steve writes:
The sequence is complete. Cesare is abducted by aliens – up from darkness into light.

Then there's a long pause before...

TRACK 12 - ECTOSCOOCH

A tribute to Stephen ‘Scooch’ Dromgoole, 1958 – 2000, Musician and Mailman.

Judge writes:
‘Scooch’ was Steve’s sadly missed musical partner in The Larry Mondello Band, and since his musical influence seemed to have hovered over this project, I suggested to Steve (a great raconteur) that he record some spoken word pieces about his friend, which I could work on musically. Steve decided to tell five little anecdotes about Scooch’s younger days, and, to accompany these, I chose to explore an unusual musical technique that has fascinated me for some time.

The melody that is implicit in everyday speech has intrigued a whole series of classical composers, and the rhythms and inflections of the spoken word can be rendered as a series of musical notes without too much difficulty. However, combining pre-recorded speech with its musical ‘transcription’ has been attempted by relatively few people. Steve Reich used the technique in ‘Different Trains’, but it is generally agreed that the most successful experiments have been undertaken by the Canadian guitarist René Lussier (which I, rather defensively, insist I didn’t hear until after ‘EctoScooch’ was completed).

The five stories utilise different interpretations of the ‘voice into music’ process, and it was Steve who suggested the bold step of fading the narration out in places, leaving the ‘speech melody’ exposed. The track ends in a Valedictory Theme for orchestra that, in our private mythology, became known as the ‘Gnarly Finale’.

Steve writes:
The events described were real, but the good friends Ron Bergone and Muji Durant are fictional. Ecto is a step beyond light.