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The Futile Feud

by James Jefferys

/
1.
James Jefferys - New Years Day Stains of sulphur streak the street Staying sober was still obsolete In the face of finding fault in the fleet. Same old sofa. Seep into my seat.
2.
Sainthood 02:52
James Jefferys - Sainthood These days of laziness Never cease to amaze me. When a pride in providing Ferries in a landslide of unnecessary tidings, Burying the diligent villagers of the unsatisfied Inside their abodes of the shy, Things take a turn towards the coral, But not those of a floral tomorrow, Because the reef underneath isn’t interested in morals – Its scurrying and flurrying is something thoroughly encouraging For anyone who doesn’t relish duties And sees them as hellish – “Why would you even do that to me?” – Apparently angry at the idea of being asked to assist. “Your nagging has made my dagger’s path: To carve a cross into plain wood. Your loss is my laugh, Whittling fast, I wonder what comes after sainthood?”
3.
James Jefferys - 'Promised Land' So, precise as a scythe or scimitar We swap slipstreams in the sky – Swerve into your sewing kit, Glide inside a specific eyelet. Enough hesitation, Enough twitching Shuffling and fidgeting Us geese reject it, Expected to shun it And dart into The strawberry punnet Promised Land With the need to be soothed – Seeds removed, Me, you. Since those slaked were squirrelled in, Assimilated, placated, sleeping and still, Something suspected snuck into the kit - We honked and hissed and had none of it The bad ones Splash into our plasma Sashay round the streets Of the box like a Pervading miasama. But we can handle it All the way to the Promised Land With the need to be soothed – Seeds removed, Me, you. Allegedly arriving to quell a palaver, The bad ones are our sons, our uncles and brothers The blue cheese on night in new places The bullets zipping past our faces To be polite, we bow and say “You won the day, hooray, touché” The sorts of things that you’ve extorted Aren’t important. You’re not that naughty.
4.
James Jefferys - Stilettohouette Plunge through Autumnal stillborn umbers, then Lumber under a monochrome mile Of unironed platinum sky. Your stilettohouette hurts through the curtain, Surpassing rehearsal Indecensual to humiliten me – intimate scoundrel Born of boundaries, peeking round all corners Omniscient bugles lose all their Right to first refusal. Splintered cretin Hope will not do. Expected, of course to recover fully – Subject to the wonders of nature’s pulleys Of angel-wing thread that Gabriel shed. But seething, three-pronged, something else comes along And I’m relieved to be wrong Rougher than some thoughts, I’ll suffer the comfort Soiling the mattress. Enjoying the sadness. Omniscient bugles lose all their Right to first refusal. Splintered cretin Hope will not do. Afar, a cat asleep atop a car Unfazed, the face of the faintly praised – To be this blasé about today Intimidates tomorrow. Omniscient bugles lose all their Right to first refusal. Splintered cretin Hope will not do.
5.
James Jefferys - Belgians in Sudan Hey, thing, the fringy fling Put your rosy cheeks and your nosey fingers To a task that’s useful – Write my name on every brick Spoon them into our time to spend Too soon to eschew four score and ten In the corner I’m comically sat Moody, sporting the conical hat Gravy corks in a walnut lollop – Firefighters don’t eat crackling In the mildness of the kiln A violent, vibrant vaulting kill… The cast of this play’s Not cast in silver Look at the mess which Change gets us into We bored a hole through the middle of a leaking Khartoum, Drawn on the bowl as a hidden, fleeting cartoon Forlorn was the whole of this midden, bleating platoon Mourning their souls, dreading speaking Walloon. Drill into kneecaps, deadpan gender Forever my junior, blackened September The cast of this play’s Not cast in silver Look at the mess which Change gets us into Feeding blackberries to the neighbour’s cat (But they’re strewn about the carpet, anyway) Harassing a hobby, interrogating you (But they’re strewn about the carpet, anyway) The cast of this play’s Not cast in silver Look at the mess which Change gets us into
6.
Overwound 02:07
(instrumental)
7.
Narcocktail 04:52
James Jefferys - Narcocktail Torn through the suitors Diurnal blitz Maternal mitts Topiary cutie Was not made afraid Mimic the wreckage System digestive I got it in spades And trip around life Soliloquy Taller tipi But a cheaper voice A habit to abandon Everything is 99 Talented talons Entrance to the crying eye And bitter flotsam is the hair in the gate Tears a hole straight through the sail Its shitty, twisted shrapnel make A hook-a-duck narcocktail Addiction console me Hitherto foundry ‘Imp’ in impunity Cliché condolences Fear television Delegate one Delicate on Its own volition Rollercoaster nude Marine blue beak, Clean in a leak – The futile feud. A habit to abandon Everything is 99 Talented talons Entrance to the crying eye And bitter flotsam is the hair in the gate Tears a hole straight through the sail Its shitty, twisted shrapnel make A hook-a-duck narcocktail The murderous came down to muss my weave An convince me into killing A narcocktail claustrum wouldn’t believe What these things did to me, really A habit to abandon Everything is 99 Talented talons Entrance to the crying eye And bitter flotsam is the hair in the gate Tears a hole straight through the sail Its shitty, twisted shrapnel make A hook-a-duck narcocktail
8.
Comatozzze 04:19
James Jefferys - Comatozzze Wait a while whilst I flick through my notes; Steady, now. I’m sending you something seminal – It’s an essence that I haggled to bellow From far below Barbelo my heretic’s echo – So one vestige of kismet Is the watchmaker’s orrery. Take therefore no thought for the morrow Blackboards and bunting and bazaars and harlequin Glaziers smashing windows – the spillage comatoses Even the mildness of the more meek Moses So I’m still flicking – with main brace spliced, man! Gassy party hues Bright & checkered, like my past (aardvark) Not a good colour for radio, though So one vestige of kismet Is the watchmaker’s orrery. Take therefore no thought for the morrow A fiery earring dangles down amongst Dandruff plates that all your mates hate You isn’t your fault – fault lines would be there Anyway. As long as long is long. Clumsy gob… So one vestige of kismet Is the watchmaker’s orrery. Take therefore no thought for the morrow
9.
Wound 01:01
(instrumental)
10.
Capsized 06:19
James Jefferys - Capsized Soon, your obsequious suppliers Would have brought you your horizon, Found good use for their incisors And ripped some flesh, cannibalising Comedians with no known ties, Tearing in the middle of them And their obsidian eyes Licking up the lids and then When the bones are boiled soft, We’re all alone and cordoned off On the throne, and you’re the boss Yet your jaw is wet, With you not getting it Your own little way. This heralds in an era of dodging – Where everything has seen better days And your wetter traits Are on salty straits, Acres inland, No trace of sand, Not surprised that They’ve capsized. A tad saddened by these cavernous walls He had had all the mad ones, and scathed them all – Managed to handle a malaise of cool – Not bad for a lad who was raised by wolves. This heralds in an era of dodging – Where everything has seen better days And your wetter traits Are on salty straits, Acres inland, No trace of sand, Not surprised that They’ve capsized. Watching you, learning Like a roof that you’re thatching Doesn’t make you more discerning Tongues are burning, taste is patchy And while you’re in that far-off country Tripping, stumbling from the heat Everyone says the very same something – You gotta try that lovely meat… This heralds in an era of dodging – Where everything has seen better days And your wetter traits Are on salty straits, Acres inland, No trace of sand, Not surprised that They’ve capsized.

about

All songs written, performed, recorded and produced by James Jefferys. © James Jefferys 2015

Bass on tracks 2, 3, 4 & 5 played and arranged by Øjvind Fritjof Arnfred.
Violin on tracks 1, 3, 4 & 6 played and arranged by Louise Drengsgaard Jørgensen.
Chorus backing vocals on track 8 by Laura Marie Klindt Nielsen.

Thank you to H.C Molbech for loan of the AKG and Neumann mics.
Thank you to Jakob Bruno for access to the Steinway grand.

Written in London (UK), Lefkas (Greece), Gothenburg (Sweden) and Aarhus (Denmark).
Recorded at mine, Øjvind's and Musikhuset.

Front cover by Laura Marie Klindt Nielsen.

Any characters found within are fictitious and are not based on or designed to represent anyone real, living or dead. Any similarities are purely coincidental. Any musical similarities are... just embarrassing, so please just ignore them. I don't want Marvin Gaye's estate on my arse.

If you can afford to buy this album, you're encouraged to do so.

All of my love, and thank you for listening,

James

credits

released March 14, 2015

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James Jefferys Aarhus, Denmark

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