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1.
Nightingale 03:56
We’ll be here when you’re playing, We’ll be waiting when you’re gone We’ll run to you when you’re tearful, Sick, or feel as though something’s wrong. Wait on your stomach, wait on your song, Promise to stay selfish then we’ll remain strong. Yip and growl when we’re sleeping like the wolves at full moon. Clings to me as though ivy, won’t go down anytime soon. Wait on your comfort; wait on your dream, Promise to stay selfish then maybe you’ll sleep. Everytime you turn around, we’ll still be there. How can I deny those sweet blue eyes? Blues eyes x4 Like a perforated drum skin Subdued but unbeaten. Then the fever comes rising, We’re fielding the spew. Wait on your mess, You’re tight to out chest, Just wish we could take on your pain and distress. Everytime you turn around, we’ll still be there. How can I deny those sweet blue eyes? Blues eyes x4
2.
I saw her at the foot of the stairwell At the Royal Mansour Marrakech, I'd guessed-she'd been swimming since She stood with helix wrapped hair, She looked up then stared right through me, Like I's the only person there. The starry night and morning light Seems more incandescent when you don’t show Fixed on for some time now, Checked me a 180 turn, To make certain shed consider being mine. I saw there was nothing there But a Winston Churchill painting, Unfinished hangin' 'bove my head. They say never meet face to face with your heroes They’ll start at a 10 then swoop down to a zero Losing a facing in a crowd at a cost But not all who wander are lost The big fish disappear They hide in the muddy flow I leave footsteps on the banks In case you change (your mind) Walked down the spiral stairwell, Wondering how to break the ice, Maybe watch the Atlas Mountains, The evert hanging purple layers, And we wouldn't need to make a sound, as we'd hear the muezzin call to prayer.
3.
The parlours are jammed as the partisans queue Tradings are filed by the Sega Sam crew The strength of the Yen now determined by fathers. The rules of the game now designed by machine Modified programming luring men in, Trade in your token for cash in the back streets I can’t figure you out Pachinko Pearls Some things under your sun are left unfurled Unsolved, unresolved, left out in the cold. Colossal chequered flags waved by the teens Speakers compete hurling synth through the streets AKB48 stealing the beats Like trickling rain through a forest of tin Loosen your ties, fill containers with gin Sumi-masen, won’t you fill me again? I can’t figure you out Pachinko Pearls Some things under your sun are left unfurled Unsolved, unresolved, left out in the cold. Should you go in and pretend that you know the rules, routines and where you should go? Or stand and admire the bewildering mystery?
4.
teary son alpha males no more ‘and finale’s’ just highlight the failures of ourselves queue pushers deadline strain beurocrats And the pouring rain Lazy people telling you ‘you should chill out’- that's what it's all about. Out of concern, out of your hands, out of control, out of the zone. People views; black or white Can’t see that more than one way’s right, Or maybe things just can’t be solved, No one’s perfect so we’re told Faith it gives us little faith in finding who we really are. Out of concern, out of your hands, out of control, out of the zone. Out of hand Out of head Heart in hands Heart in mouth Mid 8 We’d like to have a little influence on some things we can’t control, So we battle with our demons, invite into our souls, So instead, let them go, don’t allow them in the zone, Sometimes the best way is to shut down, let them go. Out of concern, out of your hands, out of control, out of the zone No gratitude For our extra mile Take not give Or even smile We bother ‘cos we care about the others and image of ourselves.
5.
There's an art, to being socially awkward. There's an art to being uninteresting. There's an art, to having it your way. There's an art, to just being me. And if you don't like it, don't eat me alive. Go find another friend who'll, see eye to eye. Been picking bad apples, who used to hang on my tree. Go rot in the orchard, or just leave me be. You’re a leader of monkeys, a silverback bully. But now that I've left the pack, I'm fine swinging from these trees. You' may call me the runt, still I won't offer my hand. Cos If my life's beach then you're one grain of sand And I'm somewhere through the middle, somewhere through the middle, now I'm a little further from you.. So I'll keep on pretending, That I like everyone. But secretly I wish, they'd all leave me alone. That's the thing about ageing, No one’s important, they're just people you know. And I'm somewhere through the middle, somewhere through the middle, now I'm a little further from you.
6.
Take 01:48
Protecting the lives of our sons Develop schizophrenia or your world’ is somehow wrong Resentful and seeking revenge Sometimes for the thrill and sometimes to defend. (Oh lord, oh lord) They say there’s a killer in everyone We’re hunters and hunted, we fight or we run Some folk they kill for their God- Land, wealth or values With hands, knives and bombs A martyr would kill for a prize Lovers may take out over secrets and lies And although it’s imbedded in our DNA, I still don’t get why they take life away.
7.
In the cold winter months, the mind works overdrive And it keeps us awake throughout the day and the night Christmas approaches, though I don’t want to be, A burden to you, my friends or our family. Each night just like Santa sip some wind for your sails So them tinselly thoughts keep firmly gripped to the rails, Like a satellite reindeer guiding north, east, south, west, Your neuro-compass knowing which chimney’s best. And if you warm to Christmas, then run a mile from me, And if you’d like to keep those needles hanging on your tree, If you’re that type of person- who’s stocking is half full, Well this year mine’s half empty, so stay away from me this Christmas. If I had a choice I wouldn’t stop loving you, Over changing that moment-, and you wouldn’t too, I suppose it’s my turn, wrapped in red and green paper Shake me for now, but open me later. And if you warm to Christmas, then run a mile from me, And if you’d like to keep those needles hanging on your tree, If you’re that type of person- who’s stocking is half full, Well this year mine’s half empty, so stay away from me this Christmas I’m hoping that Santa knows I’ve been a good boy So he can piece me back together like a Geomag toy. I’ll have magnetic arms- and magnetic legs and a chemical balance rolling ‘round in my head.
8.
SLO 03:08
Too many words to choose Too many clause to skew Too many versions drawn Too many clichés worn And you wonder what it means x2 When I write with you in mind And hold it all together with the string you can’t unwind A simple life is us A simple life is trust An easy life is forgiving A joyful life is living. CHORUS With no one to conform to With no one to aspire to But you and who you chose to Then start a family
9.
Well I’m only 34 yet the wolves gather at my door. I've been told I've 60 credits, nothing less, nothing more. Seem to be eating up the miles, just lying on the bedroom floor. So at 34 my wish is just to be... the best I can. You’re the only son I'll have; sometimes I feel I'm missing out. That one day you get so bored of me and forget to turn around, When I'm calling out your name, when I'm calling to you son. So by 44 I'm hoping you'll see some of the world... with me and mum Living in this city seems so strange when it's for life, Since our home is made from straw the wolves are sharpening their knives, So at 54 I'm teaching languages in the Cote Azure, But you can come and visit us, since by then you’ll be 24. On second thoughts come with us and never leave our side. You'll be saving up our credits; help us to feel alive. You don't have to live with us, just stay till I retire, So at 64 we'll let you head where ever you desire. If we're lucky we'll have 15 or so credits in the tank, I will leave this decade for my love to spend on what she likes, Since whatever makes her happy makes me happy just the same, So from 74 I’ll call the shots in someone else's name
10.
Instrumental
11.
In the cold winter months, the mind works overdrive And it keeps us awake throughout the day and the night Christmas approaches, though I don’t want to be, A burden to you, my friends or our family. Each night just like Santa sip some wind for your sails So them tinselly thoughts keep firmly gripped to the rails, Like a satellite reindeer guiding north, east, south, west, Your neuro-compass knowing which chimney’s best. And if you warm to Christmas, then run a mile from me, And if you’d like to keep those needles hanging on your tree, If you’re that type of person- who’s stocking is half full, Well this year mine’s half empty, so stay away from me this Christmas. If I had a choice I wouldn’t stop loving you, Over changing that moment-, and you wouldn’t too, I suppose it’s my turn, wrapped in red and green paper Shake me for now, but open me later. And if you warm to Christmas, then run a mile from me, And if you’d like to keep those needles hanging on your tree, If you’re that type of person- who’s stocking is half full, Well this year mine’s half empty, so stay away from me this Christmas I’m hoping that Santa knows I’ve been a good boy So he can piece me back together like a Geomag toy. I’ll have magnetic arms- and magnetic legs and a chemical balance rolling ‘round in my head.
12.
Nightingale We’ll be here when you’re playing, We’ll be waiting when you’re gone We’ll run to you when you’re tearful, Sick, or feel as though something’s wrong. Wait on your stomach, wait on your song, Promise to stay selfish then we’ll remain strong. Yip and growl when we’re sleeping like the wolves at full moon. Clings to me as though ivy, won’t go down anytime soon. Wait on your comfort; wait on your dream, Promise to stay selfish then maybe you’ll sleep. Everytime you turn around, we’ll still be there. How can I deny those sweet blue eyes? Blues eyes x4 Like a perforated drum skin Subdued but unbeated. Theb the fever comes rising, We’re fielding the spew. Wait on your mess, You’re tight to out chest, Just wish we could take on your pain and distress. Everytime you turn around, we’ll still be there. How can I deny those sweet blue eyes? Blues eyes x4

about

‘Doubt’ is James’ 6th studio album.

The new album, ’Doubt’ began one year prior to James’ son’s introduction to the world. However, things were far from straight forward, and this experience significantly impacted on the direction of the material. As things improved, although little Thomas Summerfield’s constant demand for affection/attention ultimately slowed the writing and recording process down, thinking time increased. “Much of the instrumentation for the album was written and recorded in my head whilst waiting for Thomas to eat, sleep and wriggle around. This made studio time very straight forward” James Summerfield.

With lashings of lap steel, girl/boy duets and the occasional West-Coast groove, ‘Doubt’ is most likely to be filed as ‘alt-country’. “I stuck to what I think I’m best at: blending contemporary/traditional Americana and indie, experimenting with noise to create sound-scapes and writing hooks” James Summerfield.

credits

released January 5, 2018

All songs written, arranged and produced by James Summerfield

Additional musicians include:
Simon Fox- brass
Gurdan Thomas- brass
Richard Pharaoh- drums
Immi Paterson - vocals
Katharine Griffiths- strings

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James Summerfield England, UK

PRE-ORDER THE NEW ALBUM NOW


From "Analogue Tales: Sounds from Arden", the new album by James Summerfield, released on Commercially Inviable Records, 22nd June 2015. Available on vinyl, CD and download. ... more

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