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Ariadne

by Trashcan Phoenix

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1.
Hieronymus 05:24
Oh, this is so divine, I cannot contain me On your left you will see - in the end we're all taxidermy And on your right you will observe, that we all get what we deserve Won't you come round for tea? Isn't this swimmingly...? Join us at the party, at the party Join us at the party, at the party Do you want to be afraid for your whole life? Dear old Hieronymus couldn't stand the tunes And he went home in a impotent rage Picked up his paintbrush and stuck it up his ass Spat on the canvass and entered the stage He crucified the lutist on a broken violin Gagged the drummer with mud and acrimony An open mouthed gargoyle swallowed 3/4 time And the flautist's being rutted by a pony Hieronymus Bosch was a bit of a sadist Bit of a Puritan, bit of a shame his Talent was wasted on he. Got a bit miffed at the postman's daughter Got his revenge when he put her to slaughter Had fire and brimstone for his tea. Cheer up Hieronymus! Cheer up Hieronymus! If you go down to the masquerade, you're in for a big surprise They're pulling their teeth out, they're tugging at their hair, they're clawing their bloodshot eyes Dancing on rooftops and dancing on graves, and slapping their hairy thighs And our guest of honour tonight is Mr Bosch, he set the crowd alight Walpurgisnacht Walpurgisnacht Hieronymus says hi...
2.
Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly  He curled into the moonlight  The archway of his spine  Was a tangled coliseum  An attack on the sublime  She tied him to the blanket  Chewed the feathers out  He looked a bit like Icarus  As he began to shout  She was one of the most beautiful things we'd ever seen  She walked up to the front of the cafe, and paused  We could see her breath cloud the glass  And we'll implore and we'll adore you  Just won't you play par, play par-, play par-lour games?  Oh won't you play par-, play parlour games?  Won’t you, won’t you play parlour games? Pinecones on her collarbone  She was deciduous tonight  On a leaf of dog-eared lust  She extinguished every light Won’t you play parlour games? Won’t you play?
3.
Whalesong 03:47
She split for the archipelago A table. A pen. A wire. And a crumpled sheet. They sit with me, clean and blank, Elegant in the cool summer air, paused. The wicker splits like a scarecrow’s stuffing. A table. A pen. A wire. And a crumpled sheet. Down the river weaves and trickles a little paper boat Tracing your handwriting, past my willowed shelter – Which I pluck from the undulating currents Like a fruit matured by the seasons of my patience. A table. A pen. A wire. And a letter unfolded, prone, Half suspended by the memory of its valleys and folds. I worry too much. About distance. About the absence of the arch of your brow, Brimming with exquisite subtext. About the parley of our live exchange Ricocheting off these now too hallowed walls. This scholar’s hand has gently turned over These dislocated souvenirs, massaged them Hopefully, nudged them (too often). Now they are dulled and habituated, Or else caricature and saturated, Like a dull curtain for a show that will not rouse itself, But still I have hope. For with strange distance, our aspects Have come into sweet relief And our words into focus. Without this correspondence, in solitude we would not Have peeped into the sustained discourse of each other’s hearts, Never murmured over the distillation of a phrase. We might have blundered through the stew of friendship Ignorant, till death, Of those facets that render us both most unique, And most together, My darling, And not composed in reverence such offerings of sincerity. So now the day is melted over your horizon, And the night subdues the lapping gales over the long grass, I stand to close my frail door against the chill, and the dark veranda. A table, and a pen, and a crumpled sheet, Are all that we need, my dear. The wire is chatter. Let us be like whales, telegraphing across the ocean.
4.
Seahorses 03:22
Bake me in a tray  Dust me down with flour  Break me against a camel's back  And caution me the hours  Elephant child we wanted  Too much much too soon, my love  Scraping around for hours  With carbuncles on your knees  And stay with me forever  At the bottom of the sea  Sea horses  Over  Under  All around me
5.
River Styx 06:03
I went down to the river What did I see there but you watching? Puddles of sulphurous half-light pave my way to you Come and see my upstairs, I will not disappoint you Rawshack scent, chloroform high-life Musk-skunked scented thighs Embalmed psalms prone, kissed wrists open Uncorked pickled sighs. I been thinkin’ bout those sunny days Won’t you be there for me? I been think’ bout original sin and babe That’s just not for me. Don’t you leave them behind Don’t you leave them behind Crossing rivers of mud to befriend you. I went down to the river What did I see there but you watching? We’re going down to this broke down hill where we’ll die. Tarmac smile, glistening razors, Billowing chimney eyes. Beckoned delights will you over The River Styx tonight. Don’t you leave them behind Don’t you leave them behind I been over this a thousands times and we Belong together. Love this to pieces, I can’t ever let you go.
6.
Oskar 06:05
Cesare the somnambulist is out of his cage There’s a tin drum rollin’ over Europe, tonight. Cruel to see, to learn to be, A finger in the air Ooo darlin', history’s callin', history’s coming to tea Creeping out of the corners, We come out on the streets What is this holy feeling, That we just cannot beat? Oskar is coming to town! I wandered into the New York stock exchange And I shattered the screens with my voice. Wall Street’s crashed again Wall Street’s crashed Tanks linin’ up Fossil fuels firin’ up I was an aborted foetus in New York on February 20th 1939 I want you to make me whole again The cabaret is booming In the kitchens of Berlin They’re throwing shade in New York Now that dragging up is in But the crowds are getting restless Now that the news is in That their security demands an outsider I went down to the sea Hiding under rostrums Cooking up some degenerate music Your band will dance to my tune I was born on the sunset of the American empire Baptised in the milk of colonial amnesia Sanctified in the sanctimonious And born again as a white saviour Divorced from time and history. The channels still pump fuels and oil Lubricated by bones cracked so distantly That they could be the rustling of grass in the wind Meanwhile, our pennies are miserly counted And eked out like bribes Sweet charity tweaks puppet strings in divine counterfeit We burn the fuel And we fry them up When they come round Our hands rise up Draw up the bridge As they die in droves Flood them with arms A good price, oh. I’m picaresque through the nightmare, you see, Irony is the saviour of Europe. Warships in the night graze the harbour Bobbing and swelling with the bodies Cut onions down into five thousand pieces Flood these lands with catharsis and shame. Break me down into five thousand pieces Bring me round ‘fore they take me away.
7.
Tower 05:02
You were the Sun, were the Moon, were the Stars, You were the cosmos taken too far A surfeit of treacle, it squid inks the stars The sirens and the blackout dance with their scars We’ll cock a hoop, prize your hand from the handrail – The balcony couldn’t hold you, you irrepressible girl We’ll staunch the flow, bung the tap, dam it all (But) The padlocked art of your precious heart will overflow. Hit this town like a hurricane in a hat I’ve been expecting expectorant to be spat He’ll stick you up, he’ll dress you down There’s not much to say The leitmotif of this little piece Is he’ll get his own way. I saw the prize of a noble incision Rippling like a stone on the water I cried my desire from the roof to the pantry Scattering your history like breadcrumbs It’s water off a duck’s back, a spat between friends We’ll sew it back, you’ll be good as new then. But the hall dissolves And we’re all involved And our tailbones retire. Fractured by The moonlight Of our desire But your skin unfolds And a world evolves To a stranger place And the world revolves As our eyes roll At a similar pace.
8.
He is the night Fall down He is the night He is the night Fall down He is the night He is the… Why don’t you hug me anymore? Why don’t you look at me anymore? I don’t want to be afraid anymore. It’ll all be ok... We’ll be ok.

about

'Ariadne' in the debut album of Trashcan Phoenix, released on 1st May 2020.

Trashcan Phoenix is a film noir evocation of artists like David Lynch, Tom Waits, Nico, Nick Cave, and Portishead - music that is by turns melancholy, mischievous, tender and nightmarish.

It’s the solo project of Martin Bowman, based in London.

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released May 1, 2020

Music and lyrics by Martin Bowman

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Trashcan Phoenix London, UK

Trashcan Phoenix’s music is a film noir evocation of artists like David Lynch, Tom Waits, Nick Cave, and Portishead. It is by turns melancholy, mischievous, sensual and nightmarish.

It is the solo project of Martin Bowman, based in London.
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