/
1.
2.
3.
4.
02:12
5.
02:00
6.
7.
8.
03:56
9.
10.
03:52

about

An album about resistance, retreat and healing, despair, hope and love. With added shipping forecast.

Big cheers to Emma and Davo as always - good apples in the barrel both.

credits

released January 31, 2017

all tracks composed and produced by me
mastering by LANDR
cover art by me

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Ben Clayton-Wolfindale London, UK

London-based sound artist, hunkered in the lab bolting together samples, loops, found sounds & self-made noises then letting the weird and sorry results loose in the world. If you see one shivering and afraid, be kind to it.

contact / help

Contact Ben Clayton-Wolfindale

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: cave
Cave

you went up into outer space
rocket smiles upon your face
and the stars erupted to mark your place
while I sank down
and down

in that awful cave
neither strong nor brave
dropping with your every wave
I sank down
and down

you conquered each unchartered world
new flags every day unfurled
as comet tails around you curled
while I sank down
and down

in this bathysphere
in this pitch of fear
where dim eyes flicker
and then disappear
down here I’m still
I am still
here

scuttling hopes beyond my vision
an unheard SOS transmission
A fading flare through a heart's blue prism
while I sank down
and down

- Ben Clayton-Wolfindale
Track Name: tubercular circular
Tubercular Circular
At 29 Mon­nery Road
the bald­ing carpet’s
ground thick
with jas­min rice and baby sick
and jet black hairs of pubic creed
gather and roll like refugees
in car­a­vans of tum­ble­weed
from the mouldy bath­room
down the stairs
to come to rest
and make their camp
beneath kitchen chairs in the shad­owed damp
At 29 Mon­nery Road
human beens
swim in the oil of their daily sins
trapped in wood and plas­ter tins
no time to ques­tion the why it is
just 47 vari­eties
of juicy improprieties
At 29 Mon­nery Road
I have dodged the bul­lets of spas­tic show­ers
watched the tick­ing of bro­ken clocks
left my rent on plas­tic tables under plas­tic flow­ers
found food tokens stick­ing to unwashed socks
At 29 Mon­nery Road
inhaled through walls paper-​​thin
con­ver­sa­tions click in ever stranger tongues
tem­pers and dis­tem­pers loosen like belts
and talk­ing cuts to the quick
walk­ing pre­car­i­ous an ever thin­ning bridge
as resent­ment oozes
like that but­ter of Suzie’s
in a slick from the rusty fridge
At 29 Mon­nery Road
pretty girls play blushin’ roulette
on their knees frozen implor­ing
with men as creased as leather jack­ets
Under sin­gle flick­er­ing bulbs
mother’s morals and neces­sity con­flict­ing
blurred hori­zons of grimy promise yawn­ing
and dis­mally constricting
At 29 Mon­nery Road, you can never hear these smiles
and you can never see these screams
& their eyes are as dis­tant and infi­nitely sad
as the weary miles of desert­ers’ dreams
At 29 Mon­nery Road
in room 4
someone’s gob­bing
frus­tra­tion froth­ing
in a cof­fee cup
At 29 Mon­nery Road
my dole papers
still haven’t turned
up
up
and where upon
the top floor
C-​​c-​​c-​​c-​​carl the wonky-​​eyed Über­men­sch
squeezed in a top knocked off from Bench
is gone real gone man
smok­ing fat ones through the kitchen door
The radio blast­ing ever­last­ing spam
pushes stink­ing meat around the pan
and pitches with the hack­ing toe-​​tapping phlegm
and the wax­ing wane
of the sink­ing man
At 29 Mon­nery Road
the TV’s jammed on 1992
we look in the mir­ror and
like a bad joke
the timing’s off
and the punch­line
never comes
At 29 Mon­nery Road
this is what hap­pens when screws are put to thumbs
this is what hap­pens when the meter stops
this is what hap­pens when the pound­land of flesh
succumbs
and the penny
finally
drops

- Ben Clayton-Wolfindale
Track Name: pleathery recliner
Are you sailing or are you wailing
Are you wailing or are you bailing
Are you bailing or are you failing
Or emailing? Now that's just wailing

A pleathery recliner understands
A pleathery recliner
A pleathery recliner understands

She has dealt expertly with her frustration
These tubes carry her unto the station
An empty heart glimpsed in desperation
A stupid one-sided conversation.
A pleathery recliner
A pleathery recliner
A pleathery recliner understands

We have scraped like toast into a glower
Shiny shimmy shallow shit shower
From one fallow whiner to a diner
Ambition in a pleathery recliner
Ambition
Ambition
Ambition in a pleathery recliner

This sofa is coming like a couch now
This sofa is coming like a couch now
This sofa is coming like a couch now

Pauliene from the Netherlands
Joakim and Felix
Here they come
From chance to double helix
Longer than a unicyclists spanner spans
A pleathery recliner
With Franz
And Hans
It Understands
Hmm, it understands
The pleathery recliner understands

Its a fine line but we walk it
Its a chalky crime but we chalk it
Stroke my pet ego ain't it cute
Ain't it cute
It's a godforsaken chime but we squawk it
Its a fine line but we walk it

It's a fine line but we walk it

Peace in a bag o'resentment drops
Down the fuckering chute
Shoulders smaller than all them chips
Saltembiggener puckering lips
A pleathery recliner
A pleathery recliner
Slightly less redundant than a Common Sense miner
A pleathery recliner
A pleathery recliner

Are you sailing or are you wailing?
Are you wailing or are you bailing?
Are you bailing or are you failing?
Or emailing? Now that's just wailing
A pleathery recliner

Everything. is. going. to. be. ok.
(I'm only joking)

- Ben Clayton-Wolfindale