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The Tangent: "A Place In The Queue" – 2006

энциклопедия: The Tangent

Состав группы:

  • Andy Tillison – фортепиано, гитара, вокал
  • Sam Baine – фортепиано, синтезатор, вокал
  • Jonas Reingold – бас
  • Theo Travis – саксофон, флейта, кларнет
  • Guy Manning – акустическая гитара, мандолина
  • Jaime Salazar – ударные

Приглашённые музыканты:

  • Krister Jonsson – гитара
  • Dan Watts – гитара

The Tangent: "A Place In The Queue" – 2006

Композиции:

  1. In Earnest
  2. Lost In London
  3. DIY Surgery
  4. GPS Culture
  5. Follow Your Leaders
  6. The Sun In My Eyes
  7. A Place In The Queue

Лирика

1. In Earnest

The Radio Amateur

Keying his mic' as he searches for life,
A gentle old man sits alone in the dark,
He's scanning the waves,
Looking for memories he can share.

His correspondents collect him like stamps,
Adding his callsign to their trophies and maps,
And none of them wonder just who it is they're talking to,
None of them think to ask the kind of man he was...

"I was a pilot, in a war long ago
and it all seemed to matter way back then..."

And now and then he feels the ground-rush,
As his plane hits the air,
Or feels his ground crew rally round him once again.

Worthy Of Memory Part 1

He remembers everything about flying Spitfires, sending Morse,
The crackle of the radio, the tension of the news reports,
He flew to save his people!
His people do not want to know him now.

He remembers every detail about those sand-bagged days,
But every chapter that came after, vanishes in blurry haze,
He has no great love story, just medals and a glory, gone for good.
He gave his youth – just like he should.

Demobilized

He demobbed in 1945 as the world he'd fought for came alive,
He looked for his friends to find that most of them had gone.
He scanned the radio the next few years, until the last ones disappeared,
When no-one was left, our Earnest looked to pastures new, from his viewpoint,
A mile above the ground,
He looked down on his oyster, green and blue.

Dehumanized

He sits in a hundred countries, counting off his latter years, while...
Leaders sit in panelled War-Rooms, fuelled by their peoples' fears,
They'll find so many willing,
So many, ready to do what he has done

Flights Of Fancy

He remembers smoky jazz bars in the years after war,
The feeling of nostalgia was creeping up and taking over
And after that it all just seemed the same,
How could he ever equal it again?

And in his flights of fancy he's still the captain of his crew
His navigator on the double bass?
Is that Lofty up there with him too?
But it all came down so fast,
And this be-bop won't last
And in his flights of fancy he never even left the R.A.F.
It all came down so fast, and
Earnest only has the past,
He's a hero in November
But all year long he's last in the Queue

Worthy Of Memory Part 2

He remembers something – about a motorbike in Lincolnshire?
A rally –– for Ham Radio?, his kids on a trip?, to Brighton Pier?
His heart is in the 40's
His roaming engines still sport his name...
In Earnest, we all had a friend.

The Silent Key


(инструментал)

Earnest Dreams Of 617

Lifelong memories as he hits the dam
of Bouncing Bombs and slide rules,
Radio cans...
It's Earnest in the cockpit and he'll never know
A moment to compare to this one,
On the Earth... below

Some Crazy Old Guy

Sipping his pint as he sits at the bar
A lonely old man sits alone with his thoughts
Around him we buzz, and never notice that he's there.
He's in the way when we order our drinks,
He's there every night of the week,
Some Crazy Old Guy who tells those stories all the time...
...But he's not with us, he's miles away from here,
In the only past we gave him worth his thoughts.
So we'll never see his Spitfire as it makes its final roll,
And we'll never learn the lessons he was taught.

In Earnest

Don't leave me nostalgic for the wrong things in my life,
I don't want adventures among your grand designs of war!
I'll take a clear morning with the wind in my hair,
I beg you, In Earnest, for nothing more.

2. Lost In London

I ended up in London several hours ahead of time,
In the small hours of the morning and they'd even closed the Circle Line,
I'd hitch-hiked it in one lift! The kind of trip of which you dream –
Until one day you don't need it, then you get it!... so it seems.

I wandered in from Acton, even passed the BBC,
Imagining that one day they'd all be interviewing me,
I've got a rendezvouz this morning with Virgin A & R
I'm a hopeful with a bag of tapes, and Shank's Pony for a car...

I'm a Yorkshire Kid in London – and I need lots of space
Winding roads and open fields you don't have in this place,
I'm here to see your empire, is it true what I have heard?
You've got more people here than Sweden,
But it's the loneliest place in the world.

Found an "all-night-cafe" but I didn't stay too long,
I didn't have much money (besides, this was someone else's song)
I saw the aisles of Knightsbridge. I even gigged the Albert Hall!
But in all the hours of wandering, talked to nobody at all.

McEnroe was losing, for the first time which seemed – wrong!
And the Virgin guy was watching while he listened to my songs,
I don't know if he heard them with so much drama on the screen,
But I didn't sign a contract, – it was Andy: "Love-Fifteen!!"

I was a Yorkshire Kid in London, I didn't understand,
All the chaos and the "MIND THE GAP!!!" in your gold-paved business land,
I was so small you could have eaten and never sensed the taste,
I was David, you – Goliath
But my stones just went to waste.

At Brent Cross Shopping Centre, thumb pointing back up home,
A wiser man is waiting for some kindly soul to pull over,
I end up with protesters, who tried to stop a war,
But they went ahead and fought it, and I guess to me that matters more.

We're all Yorkshire Folk in London when it comes to being heard,
We give our all but no-one hears or notices one word,
And thought a million voices tell us not to go and take Iraq,
We still went in, and we still haven't come back.

3. DIY Surgery

Some days it almost seems as if I could operate on myself
Nurse! The screens!
I could scrape barnacles from connective tissue
Open up, clear off the muck
In a trice I could slice myself back to health
Reach in to shave blisters off aching muscles
Breathe life into anaemic corpuscles
Smooth out crevices, no waiting lists, no fuss

(Ahhh..) Releasing ail the tension on which cluster headaches play
Soothe creaking joints, just anoint with gentle balm
Police the flashpoints, keep them from harm
And wipe the pain away

Pop back keystone vertebrae
With my very own keyhole surgery

A quick Op, then dancing – all day
Dancing all day, dancing all! day

Do it yourself, do it yourself
Do it yourself, do it yourself

Do it.

4. GPS Culture

Through seas of countless choices I'm chosen once again
To fill the air with crafted sound....
You give me space, in your space, a window in your time,
At a level which your soul allows

But when I look around,
We seem tired of all this....

We flick the GPS on now to find our pastures new,
Follow directions on the screen,
And find our way to something we never knew was there,
And keep it on our machines.

But when I look around,
We seem tired, uninspired by all we have to choose,
And each day there are more new people at the door,
They wave their products in our faces,
We've heard it all before!

Through dislocating TV and the glossy-printed word,
We sample culture in small spoons,
We think we know that riff but where in the world?
Did we ever hear that nagging tune?*

But when I look around,
We seem tired, uninspired by all we have to choose,
And each day there are more new people at the door,
They wave their products in our faces,
We've heard it all before!

5. Follow Your Leaders

Ten million people who all want to see the same movies,
Ten million more who buy the same brand of shampoo,
A whole generation just follows its leaders,
Wearing the logos and pledging allegiance,
To a culture that's spiralling into (and out of) control
As its leaders take hold.

With Oscars and Nobels we hand out our thanks to the famous
With Pulitzers, Grammys we give our plaudits to our peers,
Make governments from a few distinct choices,
Create new methods to silence our voices,
Hand over our own thoughts to systems we cannot control,
And it's time to take hold.

Billions of people with faith in some power almighty,
Billions of others who call the same thing a different name,
Then everlasting wars to follow the leaders,
To satisfy their whims and the lies that they feed us,
On a planet where there's enough wrong,
To keep us busy for years.

6. The Sun In My Eyes

Let me tell you about a place I knew,
Where the fields were green and the skies were blue,
In middle class suburbia with a swimming pool,
And all the other trappings of a public school.

I'd get a size-6-rugby in my face,
For not liking games that much and "being out of place"
Or get my head kicked in for liking Yes,
Instead of Suzi Quattro, or The Rubettes

But they didn't realise that the Sun Was In My Eyes
No, they didn't realise that the Sun Was In My Eyes

And all the instruments were out of tune,
Except a grand piano in a forbidden room,
Which is of course where I spent all my days,
Except when writing lines because I'd disobeyed

But they didn't realise that the Sun Was In My Eyes
They didn't realise that the Sun Was In My Eyes

And the media kick our faces again,
Bill Bailey takes the piss from us on "Prog Top Ten"
Class discrimination's gone, little by little
Unless you happen to be the man in the middle!

But they didn't realise that the Sun's Still In Our Eyes
Never realise that the Sun's Still In Our Eyes

They didn't realise that the Sun's Was In Our Eyes
Never realise that the Sun's Was In Our Eyes

7. A Place In The Queue

Silent Screams


(инструментал)

Two For The Queue (Part One)

You'd been alive for thirty minutes when you filled in your first form,
With blood taken from your left heel just to prove that you were born,
And they filed away the papers and you took your place in the queue.

Through the years of quiet childhood they plotted out your fate,
They had you on their system, there was no hurry, they could wait!
So by the time you'd finished schooling,
You'd learned your place In the queue.

Shaping the line into order, filtering the ones who will rule,
Positioning their appointed marshalls,
In the churches, the youth clubs and schools......

They were there when you got busted and they now have prints to say,
That you spent three weeks in the U.S. and you stole a coat from C&A
They can look you up at any time,
And gauge your place in the queue.

I walk this world as a number,
No face, no name, no character, no point of view,
And they tick me off and file me and save me to their drives,
But never know completely why or who....

I walk this world as a number,
A statistic in the spreadsheet on the pile,
And I interact with others who they let cross my path,
And we entertain each other for a while.

Shaping The Line


(инструментал)

Heirarchies

In every situation there's a heirarchy, someone in charge, some ladder to climb,
From collecting stamps to national government,
there's always a front and a back of the line.

You may think that you're immune,
The world dances to your tune,
But be honest, is that your name on the score?

The mastermind "dons" of the East-End gangsters,
The president of your local Round Table Club,
The man who represents you on the local council,
The technician who controls your local network hub.

And you may try to "break on through",
It's sometimes good, but when you do,
You just find yourself moving one place up in the queue.

The Escher Staircase

You could walk that Escher Staircase,
Or push the Sysyphean Stone,
You could stand on bridges, screaming,
For a place to call your own.
Or you could call it "fiction",
feel the roughness of the sands of time in your hands again
Give no heed to false position,
Stand and observe all the colours and the feelings in these lands again.

You might never hit the goal that you were hoping for,
You might search for rites of passage but never see the door,
Outside the world is waiting, bated breath, for any words that you have to say
While you sit contemplating the queue and the problems that face your world today.

And far away in a land we built when we were younger,
Our dreams stand tall and our hopes still flare with youth,
But we sold them, we sold them all for the price of a B.M.W,
Adding our names to the spreadsheet and
Taking our place in the queue.

Take on board the lying commercials, the promises of kings,
We're inviting the very that hold our feelings in.
Or we could take the high road, look down on the cheating and the con-men,
Who've held our lives so long.
Or we could Do As We're Told,
Wait in line forever, until the end of our life's little song.

And far away in a land we built when we were younger,
Our dreams stand tall and our hopes still flare with youth,
But we sold them, we sold them all for the price of a B.M.W,
Adding our names to the spreadsheet and
Taking our place in the queue.

An 'elping Hand

The mastermind "dons" of the East-End gangsters,
The president of your local Round Table Club,
The man who represents you on the local council,
The technician who controls your local network hub.

And you may try to "break on through",
It's sometimes good, but when you do,
You just find yourself moving one place up in the queue.

Two For The Queue (Part Two)

Fools and politicians, paupers, kings and popes,
All guided to their futures by those eternal purple ropes,
Taking castoffs from the man in front and
Passing them back down the queue

I walk this world as a number
A statistic in the spreadsheet on the pile,
And I interact with others who they let cross my path,
And We entertain each other for a while.

[track-part]The Escher Staircase[track-part]
(инструментал)

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