We never think we’re bad We never think it’s us Just maybe a little mad…
…but we don’t like to discuss, it doesn’t matter that we’re haunted by the stupid things we’ve done that we still live in the shadows cast by wounded friends and lovers and cower, cold, and shunned by others
It’s over… and over again It’s the stare of former friends at wits’ end, at the wit’s end.
This one (Canute was no Fool) was recorded as a demo sometime around 2014/15 on the single-track Otari MX-5050 you see in the video, which was shot on iPhone 5S. Once again I’ve done considerable messing with the original files to try to overcome their respective shortcomings.
If memory serves me correctly the video and audio was recorded (separately of course) on an iPhone 5S sometime around 2013/14. I found the files this morning as I was trying to create some space on a hard drive by throwing old files into the black hole of trash. Although neither the sound or vision is that good I couldn’t resist having a play around before chucking the original files (which is the object of the exercise) and uploading the resulting mess for your entertainment, or otherwise.
Brilliant shafts of sunlight penetrate the canopy of ancient trees and dance across the leaves of fern and flannel flower. The warm still air is silent but for the sounds of a cool stream tripping and running across its smooth pebbled bed. A dragonfly hovers and skims restlessly above the water’s rippling surface on gossamer wings. Now and then a plaintive bird call rings out and hangs in the air like an arrow turned to mist. Bare feet glide noiselessly over the moist leaf-strewn path leading to the glade as the daylight fades and encroaching darkness beckons.