Track 8 of Future Ghosts

 

 

london my lovesong

that ever sings itself

 

what are my needs?

 

laptop

sketch pad

wheat field

she curve

 

nothing else a fret for

 

plastic howl of

grave-bright stars

twin trees carve

their velveteen

 

gimme stub and soil

peroxide time

your chic

eighteen hole shriek

 

The music for this is taken from the unreleased Shamania-era Logos track[ / ] (yes, that was the title). It hasn't been released anywhere else in any form, though did appear on the Logos myspace player (and possibly other online music players - I don't recall) for a while. 

 

The text was written on 23 February 2014, on a train from Waterloo to Guildford, after an evening spent with my friend and co-writer Simon Lewis, discussing our book Jack Palmer & The Unspeakable Thing. I was born in London, lived there until ten years ago. I still spend a lot of time in the place and have a great fondness for it, but am glad I no longer live there. The text had no particular inspiration, merely some thoughts after a good evening with a good friend and a few beers as my train slid through the night. 

 

Currently reading: The First Day On The Somme - Martin Middlebrook

Currently listening: Bob Dylan - The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan