STN

sou'wester
So R. Totale dwells underground
Away from sickly grind
With ostrich head-dress
Face a mess, covered in feathers
Orange-red with blue-black lines
That draped down to his chest
Body are a tentacle mess
And light blue plant-heads
TV showed Sam Chippendale
No conception of what he'd made
The Arndale had been razed
Shop staff knocked off their ladders
Security guards hung from moving escalators
 

STN

sou'wester
At 16 I drank cheap sherry
Got plastered in the stations and swing parks
Off my mother I stole some money
Had a treat with a bottle of Martini
So sick I couldn't walk or sit
Since then I've not touched it
I won't bore you with tales of being greedy
I'm just into CB
I'm into CB
 

Benny Bunter

Well-known member
At 16 I drank cheap sherry
Got plastered in the stations and swing parks
Off my mother I stole some money
Had a treat with a bottle of Martini
So sick I couldn't walk or sit
Since then I've not touched it
I won't bore you with tales of being greedy
I'm just into CB
I'm into CB
One of the best fall songs that (and a b side I think?)
"Got plastered in stations and swing parks" is so brilliant
 

Benny Bunter

Well-known member
Yeah it’s probably my favourite Fall song - Smith in Ray Davies mode.
Yes! These very obscure totally english characters, not thought of MES like that before but it is very ray davis-esque - mushroom-fried post-punk abstract character portaits
 
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Benny Bunter

Well-known member
It took me quite a while to click on that the fall are actually, above all, a psychedelic band, especially in early days.
 

Benny Bunter

Well-known member
The lo fi punky abrasive shambliness obscures the psychdelic effect somewhat, and you can more obviously hear the amphetemines in it (totally wired), but you can totally tell Smith gobbled tons of mushrooms in his youth
 

jenks

thread death
Slates is the high water Mark for me - faultless. Leave the Capitol is like some Machen, MR James, Wyndham Lewis mash up


I laughed at the great God Pan
I didnae, I didnae
I laughed at the great god Pan
I didnae, I didnae, I didnae, I didnae
LEAVE THE CAPTIOL
EXIT THE ROMAN SHELL
Then you know you must leave the capitol
Pan resides in welsh green masquerades
On welsh cat caravans
But the monty
Hides in curtains
Grey blackish cream
All the paintings you recall
All the side stepped cars
All the brutish laughs
From the flat and the wild dog downstairs
 
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