Get all 73 Laurie Shaw releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of HELP, Dove From Above, Any Questions, Neck Of The Woods, Music For Garden Centres, Bottlenose (Single), Satellite Towns, Rollover, and 65 more.
1. |
Neck Of The Woods
04:03
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Some neck on that woods
I was just glad to be out
You’ve been gone a year
Did you reach the river’s mouth?
I mean it sounds dead easy; up, up, out
I can barely stomach one more long blue night
Rouse’s is chucking me out in the long gas light
Girls of the lanes
Blow technicolour rings like chimney stacks
Hay scatters, there’s paid-for pollinating
On Cathedral Road, front to back
To bottom of the jar
I can barely stomach one more night of this
Blew it like the bricks they used to build the bridge
Burke and Hare nearly mistook me for a body to snatch
Pass me the pipe, pass me the dynamite, pass me the match
Some neck on these woods but I’m gonna get out
Some neck on these woods but I’m gonna get out
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2. |
Horseman
03:26
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Chasing the guts
Rolling down the long river
Guts of ideas a rural town might deliver
It’s not Inverness
Though the views are familiar
In the dilapidated church
You know the pews are quite similiar
Non-linear routes through the centre of the light show
Corrigated Tesco roof fade
Market Road barbershops solemnly shut
I can’t shake the feeling they’ll bind me with line
Then stick me in a big dock-off wicker fish
Above the tackle shop in the renovated gallows
A psychic battle with swirling murmurations
Bumping teacups at the Pleasure Rink
The Bolg Bui regulars are residual presences
From 1798
Non-linear routes through the centre of the light show
Corrigated Tesco roof fade
No, I don’t think they saw me
Please come back to haunt me
Before my mind runs away with the dish
I thought I saw the face of the horseman
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3. |
Castle Gore Ablaze
04:11
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I put a long flagstone on a pyramid of sand
At the foot of the Holy Mountain
Quartzite peak and bleeding gold bullion
In fluid ounces
Put a geasa on you
Your fourth swan daughter
Has cut me the key and stole us the horse
Your father is a keeper of portraiture
And statuettes from the origins of man
Pandora’s infamous open box
And Egyptian pyramid plans
Down in his castle on the floor of the sea
Private members club for The Unseelie
I see him sleeping but he doesn’t see me
His fourth swan daughter cut me a key
In the great Jazz Age
I returned with 15 men
The castle was a second home
For some Earl of Birmingham
Arthur’s fourth swan daughter
Was puppeteering the scam
We had rapiers, whoopee masks
Matches and a petrol can
“Who’s that knocking at my door?”
Table of giants, lake of revenge
Pure notions, twinned with a city in flight
Table of giants, lake of revenge
Pure notions, twinned with a city in flight
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4. |
The Year Of The French
03:21
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When you got back your watchmen were a-grovelling
Pearse Street now thoroughly monopolised by vermin
They were setting fire to your cloth replica
They’d hung poor Patrice like some pale portraiture
It’s all barbed silent gestures
The insignia lingers
They took his fingers and they put him in the marsh
There was a right to-do in Castlebar
Back in Athis-Mons
There were Parent Trap antics with your first wife
Leonard Rossiter was in line to portray you in Napoleon
How good would that have been?
A Kubrickian finger on the Moviola
But something changed
And something re-assembled in your mind’s eye
I’m trying my best to be the rebel with a cause
But I could well be out of time
Jacques Zabor taps his ashes on the boot scraper
While the continuity polaroids drop into your soft hands
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5. |
Sequah
04:04
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See the Quay and the harbour boats
Guess a concrete ship can really float
Crocketstown boy is on the hunt
For The Prince of Healers
Ring the bell when you’re ready to take me in
Luftwaffers are around the block
Gouged holes in the ancient rock
Secure the rights to the stock footage
Of those metal behemoths
The fire and the rubble
Ballina
At the yellow of morning
The insatiable phone-in
Ballina
In the river of silver
Where the men are waist high again
Ballina
On an estate of mass graves
There’s a blind date falling apart
It could be a life for us
From the quay and the harbour boats
The ice spa and the local folks
Bring me the brochure down
I’m in the market for a settle downer
The king of the other crowd
Salutes you in BoHo
The only place to go,
I know the couple who run it
Ballina
For the Prince of the Healers
Keep your eyes peeled for the For Sale sign
And the Prince Of The Healers
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6. |
Christmas Fowl Market
03:43
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Christmas fowl market
A high class young lady trots
Scalding hot pots hit the cobbles
Into tributaries of hay and muck
Bodies embalmed in the bog
A mother’s son
What’s a war between friends?
With the snow picking up pace
And I said “here, your carriage awaits”
You were like gold coins falling from the thatched roof
Space age transmitters and hand held instant cinema
I must have turned down a wrong street
All of these period costumes
And cowboy shows in between laser gun stalls
What’s a war between friends?
By the time we got to Teeling Street Font
I was in fisherman’s knots saying it wasn’t love
I was on tender hooks
And at the search I was candid
Said “good man, don’t handle my weapon like that”
Well I got right whacked for it!
As my friends were led away into dark rooms
I was all clinging on with wet fingers
To us eating chips
Wrapped in yesterday’s Western People
At the Christmas Fowl Market
Through the snow, just a stone’s throw from here
Just a cart’s width from you
Just a lips width from you
And the heat of your body
And the chips in yesterday’s Western People
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7. |
Belleek Manor Ghost
03:38
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I was a secret addition
I was a peep hole-ist
Watching the Lord consumating
The stuffed wolf was imported
But it didn’t seem that important then
Through the fine point I observed them
Floorboard nor headboard decorum
The staff pretended to ignore them
But I had to see what the fuss about
But I didn’t foresee that I’d be found out
(And get a sword through my jugular)
Now I haunt Belleek Manor
Now I haunt Belleek Manor
American tours get down on all fours
To be knighted by guides with no authority
They stare at the walls
And the replica horse
But they can’t fathom the way we did it then
And how we did it!
How I haunt Belleek Manor
How I haunt Belleek Manor
I stopped the death throes
But I cannot stop the old incessant avalanche
Of moments made mere previous miniatures
And that’s where I’m at now
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8. |
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Ballina Manor Hotel
Terry Reilly paraglides above the Moy
And in to the function room
His silver equipment inside-outs into a blue tweed suit
Who called this meeting
Of amateur sleuths in mass mould seating?
The Big Rebrand Of The Salmon Weir
Makes no difference to me
I’m not up to the task
It’s very kind of you to ask
But I’m just making the tea
Conservationist chic
Polaroid sunglasses,
Riding the rapids
On their megazord components
Supermarionation secret police
In safari green
The poaching party scatters
Who said I was leaving?
I wouldn’t miss this for the world
The Big Rebrand Of The Salmon Weir
Makes no difference to me
With mid-century advertising
And I just make the tea
Man, I just pour the tea
Have you done the squinting Litmus?
Man, I just pour the tea
Not like I’m in the crop mark business
Man, I just pour the tea
You’ve got to have your critics
Man, I just pour the tea
In Ballina Manor Hotel
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Laurie Shaw Kenmare, Ireland
Laurie Shaw is a Wirral-born songwriter and producer. He now dwells in Ireland where he records from his mountain retreat. He often gigs in Cork, Dublin and the Merseyside area. He has released around 100 albums to date (all of which are available on request). ... more
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