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Pre​-​E​.​P.

by L.A Salami

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1.
The Scene 04:28
The queen of spades digs me a grave, the heaven’s maid halts her charade, while god points a shotgun at my eye. The Troubadour has made his way, his blissfulness and my decay go together like Lucy and diamonds in the sky. And the tailors find it hard to tell a lie, they fix me up a suit made of arrogance and twine, because I said that I would make the heavens mine, and that I’d climb over anyone to be part of the scene. The Watchman’s weak as mercy goes, all he can see are how the turncoats blow a cloud of poison gas right up my nose. And the music’s only good as far as the madness and the poorness spar with the passion that my grandeur drags in tow. And as the fruits on my tree of labour grow my boots uproot the agony below. and the Almoners and the Ushers, they all know that I’d pose as anything to be part of the scene. The advertiser has kind words for me while the singer’s just been affirmed to me, with her beauty her ambition and her charm. But if you play this game you’ll learn a trick, how to grow a pair and make ‘em stick, like the tattoo of Bob Dylan on my arm. Taliesin extends his hand, he gives me more than I can understand. he mourns me when I give in to those lines I’ve drawn in the sand. He said jump first then decide next where to land, on a lion’s tongue or in the middle of the sea, because up-in-the-air’s a place that I can’t stand, and I’ll be myself if I have to be to be part of the scene.
2.
Jianni’s from Australia  but she’s here to stay,  with her hair like golden sunlight  on a summer’s day. Her eyes caught the sun in Sydney  and there it remains,  it shines through her skin and laughter  makes the shadows sway Chorus: That Chinese blood of hers  is reaching for the fire  that was lit by Durrel books  Full of poetry or higher.  Her brain is full of words  from all the poets she admires  … she gets by fine… Jianni doesn’t like the cold  it once made her weep  she was forced to wait for a night bus  when she needed sleep. But she was out the next night,  the cold won’t keep her down;  you can’t help but feel warm inside  when Jianni’s around. (Chorus) Jianni’s got her own place now,  the cheapest place she took,  she travels with a trunk of clothes  And an Allen Ginsberg book. She gets itchy thighs sometimes  and she’ll let you know  Jianni is beautiful  she’s all the boys in tow. (Chorus) Jianni’s from Australia  and she fell in love,  but it stopped her from being happy  so she gave it up. And love and loss are a perfect way to  douse a flame  but jianni’s soul is burning,  she’ll burn again. (Chorus)
3.
Everyday is a chore I cannot take it no more I’ve got no job and I’m poor and my determination is sore Lady luck is a whore and she’d stopped knocking at my door I can barely remember when we were together. It just seems so long ago… (Chorus) My will’s frazzled, my brain’s rattled, I go insane everyday I do battle; there’ll be more sorrow, of this there’s no doubt, but the posture of grief is chin up and chest out. I’ve got no shoulder to brace the solemn weight of my face and I feel like a disgrace my mind’s all over the place. These heinous winds I’ve endured have knocked me down to the floor and I can’t seem to pull myself together. It just seems all too much for me. (Chorus) My will’s frazzled, my brain’s rattled, I go insane everyday I do battle; there’ll be more sorrow, of this there’s no doubt, but the posture of grief is chin up and chest out. New years and the summer, they both stole your heart, but the devil and his woman will have you play your part as the lowly unexpected victim of despair, there are a million men just like you, but that don’t mean you shouldn’t care. I drown my sorrows in drugs but are narcotics enough…? I just wake up feeling rough - I think this all is too much. This may be the end but that all depends on how I hold it all together. But there ain’t much that can pull me through. (Chorus) My will’s frazzled, my brain’s rattled, I go insane everyday I do battle; there’ll be more sorrow, of this there’s no doubt, but the posture of grief is chin up and chest out. (x2)
4.
Shoes 03:58
On an earth where the oceans don’t bow to a notion that a man or a master rule, the winds take pity on the kings of the cities who build both prison blocks and schools. The doves choke, and the men go blind, the slaves and the landlords, too. And a boy dies, dies for some shoes. On a land that is likened to an age of enlightened, some boys argue inside a store. And for some mild irritation descends escalation, after which a knife is drawn. A boy draws lead, and another sees red, and then they run him through. And a boy dies, dies over some shoes. On the streets that cater to an age of spectators lay a boy in a river of blood, the crowd take pictures as his body twitches and the paramedics stitch the cuts. The country screams, as the image streams, uploaded moments on Youtube of when a boy died, died over some shoes. On a high street heaving in an age of reason where the cash flow floods the graves, the bank crutch crumbles as the merchants stumble to lay claim to where their children play. The layman starves as the protests march at the behest of the news, while a boy dies, dies for some shoes. It is said that the gods will first make mad those who they wish to destroy. So, if to be reborn means to be unmade then count the madness we enjoy. And as the day turns night, the season’s lights go on for one last time by where a boy died, died for some shoes. Where a boy died, died over some shoes.
5.
It’s now been a year since I went and blew it, I’ll get straight to the point, here’s the fat, now chew it - I bet you don’t even spare a second thought for me. Forget the metaphors, I’ll just say it plainly; despite the pain you caused, there ain’t no more distain, I just thought you deserved a song, you see. I might’ve been a girl, but you’re just plain old fashioned ghoulish, and if that’s not the case then you know damn well that I’m foolish. But you, you always had your silver tongue. But despite your pricy words, it was rusting and you knew it and all your lovers ducked whenever you drew it. Yes, “lovers”, plural, I know you had more than one. Chorus: ‘Cause you’re just like me, You try your luck at every hand. But I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am. I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am. So tell me what’s your game, what the hell’s your motive? You went by pretty fast, but then again I just suppose it’s definitely got something to do with me. But I’m not in to all of that damn self deprecation, I just thought I’d fall for a chance to have a taste of that love, that love… that love… But such naivety of thought deserves the backing of a boozer, and you were drunk as hell and you were lusting for a loser, and guess who was the first guy out of the blocks you happened to see. And I don’t mean myself, I mean the guy who came before me, don’t tell him what we did, it might reflect on us quite poorly. Oh, god bless your soul. Chorus: ‘Cause you’re just like me, You try your luck at every hand. But I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am. I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am. Yes, I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am.
6.
You know as well as I that even beauty has to die and beauty is a bed of joy where we two lovers lie. And these moments may just be a flash in the frying pan, “You see, nothing lasts” is what you said to me - it’s what we both believe. And I know you’ve a lover back at home but it pleases me just to be alone with you - you said you felt it, too. And must I bid you adieu? is your Irish song to take leave soon? is it fear that will take your lips away? It’s a problem that we grasp in between the laughter. But you say “Hey, forget it. We’ll solve it after.” When you climb on top of me it makes it easier to see that delight is a fair maiden, and I shall not darken thee. And even when I am fatigued in fact, I’d say especially, it’s then that you will melt my melancholy. And it ain’t so strenuous to see that you just might be even drowsily, mine. But must I, with this aching pleasure nigh, fear that your soul will go away? It’s a problem that we’ve yet to master. But you say “Hey, forget it. We’ll solve it after.” But eventually I’ll have to leave despite how I dread to leave you be; that bed of ours is so serene - it is quite a scene. But even scenes, however long they seem, have to cease to be, “You see, nothing lasts,” is what you said to me - it’s what we both believe. But for a moment can we just see what it’s like to leave the world be… And must I put aside this dream? Is it fear that will take your words away? It’s a problem that we grasp as our hearts beat faster. But you say “Hey, forget it. We’ll solve it after.”

credits

released June 17, 2012

Produced by Robbie Moore, Peter Lyons, Tom Atkenhead

Lead Guitar: Chistopher Lane
Bass: Greg Dearing
Banjo: Alistair Mackenzie
Trombone: Sky Murphy

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L.A. Salami UK

Lookman Adekunle Salami - ‘L.A. Salami’ - is a rare breed of musician that the world has been craving since the height of storytelling legends like Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon and Neil Young. Not quite folk, not quite indy, not quite common and certainly not boring, L.A. Salami’s lyricism and voice are hypnotic. ... more

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