THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS

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Release date and tracklist

1983
UK C60 Third Mind Records TMT 08

1984
CH C60 Calypso Now Records TMD28
DE C60 235 Tapes bootleg (198?)

1985
NL C60 Terminal Kaleidoscope TKK7/5

1989
NL C60 Mirrordot no number
NL C60 Jarmusic no number

 

Side A

1. Stigmata Part One (Freiheit)
2. Klazh
3. Love Is…
4. No Reason
5. 834
6. Wall Purges Night (Version)
7. Basilisk 1
8. Methods

Side 2

1. Clean Up
2. Basilisk 2

 

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2002
NL/US CD Beta-lactam Ring Records/TEKA TEKA09/B-LRR

• Barry Gray- Guitars
• Rolls Anotherone (Roland Calloway)- Bass, Keyboard
• Edward Ka-Spel– Vocals, Keyboards
• Phil Harmonix (Phil Knight)– Keyboards
• April Iliffe- Vocals
• Keith Thompson- Drums, Percussion
• Patrick Paganini (Patrick Wright)- Violin, Keyboards:

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Notes

Third Mind Cassette: Limited to 1000 copies. Mastered at Ding Dong, Arnhem, Holland.
Some copies were distributed by 235 in Cologne (Köln), Germany in different cover. (At least one TMT copy was blank (no audio) … .)
Thanx to Keith Thompson and Patrick Paganini for their help.

Calypso Now cassette: Licensed to Calypso Now by Third Mind Records in a distribution deal.
Cataloge number may not appear on the item, but there’s the Calypso Now logo on the cover.
Considered as “Unofficial release” by LPD on their official website in 1996; Calypso Now has correspondance with Gary Levermore/3rd Mind of 1984 to prove the contrary.

235 Tapes edition is a bootleg of the Third Mind edition with a different cover.

The Ding Dong edition was announced, with a cat. number of DDC 013, but never materialised.

All official editions have different covers.  Some of the cassettes were packaged in plastic bags with color copies of artwork.  This one is from a cassette bought during the US tour 1993.

BLRR CD:
Edition of 1,000 copies.
Tracks 1 to 3 were recorded in 1981/1982. Sadly, the master for Basilisk was never returned to the LPDs, so the source tape was from the original (rather poorly produced) cassette release. Enhancement has taken place, but only so much was possible in the circumstances.
Track 4 recorded in 1990 on a ferry in a storm on a walkman.
Tracks 5 and 6 are unreleased versions recorded in 1981
The track “A Ferry In A Storm On A Walkman” was recorded in 1990 on a ferry in a storm directly into the microphone of a walkman.

The version of “Ideal Home” on the CD release was recorded in 1981 and features lead vocals by Keith Thompson.
The version of “The Glory, The Glory” on the CD is a different version than on the cassette release, it was also recorded in 1981.
CD edition has been mastered from a tape, as the poriginal masters were never returned to the band, it has however bee enhanced by LPD sound wizard Raymond Steeg.

Bandcamp notes:
Memories flood back when listening again to this cassette album from way way back.  Some of the earliest roots of what would become “curse” are there; there are remnants of the abandoned “Stigmata” project.

This was intended as a concept album about a sculptor who went mad while trying to sculpt his perfect lover.  An arm fell off and he ran riot with his chisel, hacking and destroying everything in sight.  The planet fell to pieces, heaven fell to pieces and he was brought before God who bore a plaster over his left eye, but was sympathetic to those who acted in the name of love. The sculptor’s “punishment?
You guessed, he had to re-sculpt the universe.
Sadly abandoned, but fragments are plentiful. Then there’s Basilisk 2 with those ominous field recordings from Notre dame cathedral in Paris.
Basilisk has it’s own flavour, and this remaster admittedly leaves off the bonus tracks which adorned the reissue cd, and hopefully respects the atmosphere of the original. less a remaster, more a clarification.

2015 CDR: Lovingly home made CDR edition in card cover with full colour artwork by Jesse Pepper. Insert included. Edition of 199.

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Review

Basilisk first came out as a Third Mind Records cassette in 1983. It was reissued (both legitimately and bootlegged) a few times in the same format during the ’80s by small European labels, including the Legendary Pink Dots’ own favorite Dutch imprint, TeKa. The album finally received wider circulation in 2002 when TeKa reissued it on CD in collaboration with the U.S. label Beta-Lactam Ring Records. The album ranks among the Dots’ experimental releases. It features a few songs typically dominated by repetitive keyboard chords and Edward Ka-Spel’s murmur beyond the grave. But for each song included, there’s a disquieting instrumental piece. They provide a suitable soundtrack for walks through the local cemetery on a foggy night, especially “Basilisk 2,” which used to conclude the original album. In keeping with the cassette esthetics, the CD reissue lumps the material from each side into two 30-minute tracks. Beside the usual suspects (Ka-Spel and Phil Knight), the lineup includes guitarist Barry Gray, violinist/keyboardist Patrick Paganini, drummer Keith G. Thompson, and singer April Iliffe, although these musicians seem to appear only on the bonus tracks. The sound of the main album is dominated by keyboards. “The Ocean Cried Blue Murder a Ferry in a Storm on a Walkman” is a dark folk song recorded direct-to-Walkman. “Ideal Home” (which first appeared on Atomic Roses, 1982) is presented in a previously unreleased version from 1981. The bonus tracks have a shaky sound quality, but Basilisk itself sounds quite good considering that the master tapes have been lost. – François Couture

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Lyrics

STIGMATA PART 1 (Freiheit)
(Freiheit: freedom. In German, possibly connected to the fact the lyrics « working makes you free » also paraphrase a 19th century German motto (from the title of a novel in which deviants find salvation through hard work) the Nazis later made infamous by placing it at the entrance of death camps. « Arbeit Macht Frei »/work sets you free.)

Intro loop: April (?) reciting « Sing While You May »

Pictures (?) across a wall, they talk among themselves. The shelves are empty except for eyes that (?) in silence, while he’s working (?…less?), working on a slab of stone, working fingers ’til the bones are (working? worked?) through his skin. Can’t feel a thing, the pain stays in, ‘cause working makes you free.

(He’d) dreamed to see the world, the others’ works, the older works. (?) cried out as they crumbled, yes they crying out to him. (?) moaned about the ?, and Venus wanted hands, and Bonaparte a brand new hat ‘cause the other (old one?) looked so silly. But he really couldn’t help – much too busy working on his own, on his own. And now the crowds applauded and threw him coins and roses. Rows and queues on corners, curious for a glimpse. The critics said his statues breathed – they whispered back « you’re stone », and no one heard their mocking. No one heard the jokes at their expense, and (ghost torments?). There’s nobody listening. Nobody listening, nobody listening. No one listens.

 

KLAZH (instrumental)

 

LOVE IS… (Part 1 – instrumental version of Love Puppets)

 

LOVE IS… (part 2)
(a proper name?) just ate the margarine, he’s writhing on the floor. (He) snatched it when my back was turned – he won’t steal anymore. (Sores?) are spreading oddly now, they’re glowing in the dark. I stroke him with my gloves on and I’ll bury him in the park. I swear I heard a sound last night, footsteps on the stairs. I cried out and I dashed outside – wasn’t anybody there. (And I was?) the only boy in the world, and you were the only girl. We’d (…..?)

 

NO REASON
I got my tapes, I got my headphones, (phone is?) off the hook. I got a book I wrote myself. I’m healthy, happy on my own. You don’t figure in my plans, never (did? this), never can. Sure, you got to understand I don’t always mean the words I say. It’s nothing that you did, the problem’s in myself (is myself?). (Emotional paralysis?), still want you as a friend. But on any other level, I’m sad to say, it’s the end. It’s the end. I didn’t want to hurt you. Honestly. Believe me. (For I ?) gave you cause. Believe Me. No reason. No reason.

 

834 (mostly unintelligible vocals through vocoder)

 

WALL PURGES NIGHT
The right hand raised, the left plants stickers – picking out the deviants, the choice of colours, inclinations, factions that see only red. He wants them dead. He kills them in his mirror when it’s dark… And when he thinks that no-one’s watching, spreads his spray paint, leaves his mark.

As swastikas shout out from walls, they’re tattooed on a million fists. Clenched together, safe in numbers, waving from the precipice. Fodder! Plod on down your icy path… A cannon’s waiting for the fodder. Enlightenment comes with a blast. A bang. A bang, a bang, a bang…

Another place, a different story. Fingers play with stale cigars. Business creeks (creaks? creeps?), the warehouse leaks, the chairman sold his daughter’s car. He’s reading charts, sharpening knives for cutting when the time seems right – for him alone. No pause for mercy, if the victim’s out of sight. Equality is a word for cranks to shout out as the batons swing. It’s beautiful in theory… he knows it’s not for him. He’s got his fodder – they plod on down their icy path. Enlightenment comes with a blast.

In higher places, clocks chime for a meeting of the Lords – discreet as guilty secrets cause no shame behind closed doors. A portion for the mega bomb, a portion for the Queen… can’t forget the Army or the Law – we got to keep our cities clean. And sure they know they’ll get their way, though protests echo from the streets. There’s hired guns and sheets of armour – (it) gives them shelter through the heat. And the fodder who plod on down their icy path. Enlightenment comes with a blast.

But there’s other bullets, other walls, where justice cries in shiny red. Where passion burns and reason dies, persuasion’s just a hole in the head. Purges after midnight, no discretion in the mass. A volley, a silence, as they cover up the mess. Don’t kid yourself you’re civilized – it could happen anywhere. In choking cities, steaming jungles… maybe even here.

Come here fodder!

(sample: « We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing. » Bit of the song “Tico Tico no Fubá”).

 

BASILISK 1 (instrumental/sounscapes)

 

METHODS
Dive like a swan in a pond as the train rolls in. Close your eyes, hold your breath – you’ll be holding it forever. There are methods, many methods. Take pills, swallow one by one. It’s easy, it’s so easy – you can drift away to heaven.

Many methods, there are methods – with a blade on the wrist you can carve your initials. It’s messy, but it’s effective, and a method, another method.

Another method … select and slip away. Tightropes, and nightshades and shady streets where knives are swinging (other methods!) Swing, swing away on a rope – it’s a method, another method. Airports, motorways – take a dive, take a dive… It’s another method. Methods. Select and slip away. Methods. Take a life, take a pill, take a dive….

 

CLEAN UP
The world would be so nice without people but oh so bad without me. I’m applying for the job to sit behind The Button, and watch my knee. And when i’m bored you won’t ignore the goodies i’ve got in store. Just hang around, it will all be over in seconds. Maybe you think I’m joking, that it’s all just a fabulous wheeze ; and when the time’s right i’ll just (?) and scramble on my back. Freeze. I’m paranoid, i’ve got adenoids. They shot me. I like the noise. I’m going to crack some revenge. And i can talk to the animals – talk to the animals. And maybe they’ll talk back – talk back. I’ve drafted out a real persuasive letter – it will get the early post. Don’t be surprised – it’s kind of nice when you’re a ghost. I’m a scorpio. I’ll start the show with a farewell song on the radio. Hold your nose, hold you nose.

 

BASILISK 2 (soundscape with field recordings made at Notre-Dame by Silverman)

 

transcribed by Dominic

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS

<< back to the Combined Discography

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Release date and tracklist

1983
UK 2xC90 Mirrodot Tapes no number (different cover)

1985
NL 2xC90 Terminal Kaleidoscope TKK7/0/1 (different cover)

1989
DE 2xC90 Jarmusic no number (different cover)

1990
NL 2xC90 Mirrodot Tapes no number (different cover)
NL 2xC90 Staalplaat STLPD 002

 

Chemical Playschool 3:

side one

1. The Light In My Little Girl’s Eyes
2. The Top
3. Neon Gladiators #1
4. Obsession
5. Hideous Strength
6. The Waiting Game
7. Ego Tripper
8. Malhazka
9. Curse – The Sequel
10. She Said

side two ‘The tower- A blueprint’

1. Film Of The Book
2. Tower 1
3. Lullaby For Charles’s Brother
4. Collapse
5. Tower 2
6. Glad He Ate Her
7. Barbed Obituary
8. Tower 3
9. Espresso Curfew
10. Surprise, Surprise
11. The Bride Wore Green

Chemical Playschool 4:

side three

1. When The Clock Strikes 13
2. Just Passing Over, Lovey…
3. Premonition 10

side four ‘The Apocalypse disco’

1. Grind
2. Choke
3. The Plasma Twins
4. Apocalypse Soon
5. Apocalypse Gone
6. Cherry Lipstick
7. It’s Raining… Again
8. The Glory, The Glory

 

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1998
UK 2xCD TEKA / World Serpent TEKA 945

Chemical Playschool 3:

1. The Light In My Little Girl’s Eyes
2. The Top
3. Neon Gladiators (Version 1) / Obsession
4. Hideous Strength
5. The Waiting Game
6. Curse – The Sequel
7. She Said
8. Film Of The Book
9. Tower 1 (Version 1)
10. Lullaby For Charles’ Brother
11. Collapse
12. Tower 2
13. Glad He Ate Her
14. Barbed Obituary
15. Tower 3
16. Espresso Curfew
17. Surprise, Surprise
18. The Bride Wore Green

Chemical Playschool 4:

1. When The Clock Strikes 13
2. Just Passing Over, Lovey…
3. Premonition 10 (Stages I/II/III)
4. Grind
5. Choke
6. The Plasma Twins
7. Apocalypse Soon
8. Apocalypse Gone
9. Cherry Lipstick
10. It’s Raining… Again
11. The Glory, The Glory

 

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February 06 2015
NL remastered MP3 self-released on Bandcamp

1. The Light In My Little Girl’s Eyes-version 1
2. The Top
3. Neon Gladiators Version 1
4. Obsession version 1 
5. Hideous Strength/The Waiting Game/EgoTripper/Malhazka/Curse-The Sequel/She Said
6. Film Of The Book 
7. Tower 1-version 1
8. Lullaby For Charles’ Brother/ Collapse/Tower 2- First Version 
9. Glad He Ate Her/Barbed Obituary/ Tower 3-First Version
10. Expresso Curfew/Surprise Surprise/The Bride Wore Green 
11. When The Clock Strikes 13
12. Just Passing Over, Lovey / Premonition 10 
13. Grind/Choke
14. Plasma Twins Version 1 
15. Apocalypse Soon/Apocalypse Gone/Cherry Lipstick/It’s Raining Again
16. The Glory, The Glory Version 1 

 

***
May 31, 2015
NL remastered 4xCDR self-released and sold through Bandcamp

Disc 1

1. The Light In My Little Girl’s Eyes-version 1
2. The Top
3. Neon Gladiators Version 1
4. Obsession version 1
5. Hideous Strength/The Waiting Game/EgoTripper/Malhazka/Curse-The Sequel/She Said

Disc 2

1. Film Of The Book 
2. Tower 1-version 1
3. Lullaby For Charles’ Brother/ Collapse/Tower 2- First Version 
4. Glad He Ate Her/Barbed Obituary/ Tower 3-First Version
5. Expresso Curfew/Surprise Surprise/The Bride Wore Green 

Disc 3

1. When The Clock Strikes 13
2. Just Passing Over, Lovey / Premonition 10 

Disc 4

1. Grind/Choke
2. Plasma Twins Version 1 
3. Apocalypse Soon/Apocalypse Gone/Cherry Lipstick/It’s Raining Again
4. The Glory, The Glory Version 1

 

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Credits

• Edward Ka-Spel– Vocals, Keyboards, Treatments
• Phil Harmonix (Phil Knight)– Keyboards
• April Iliffe- Keyboards, Voice
• Stret Majest (Barry Gray)- Guitar
• Keith Thompson- Drums
• Roland Calloway- Bass
• Sally Graves- Flute
• Patrick Q Paganini- Violin

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Notes

The original cassette edition is “officially” limited 83 numbered copies, but somewhere between 110 and 120 copies were actually produced, all with different handmade covers. Collaboration-Release between LPD’s Mirrordöt and In Phaze Tapes/Records.

Comes in a A5 size envelope with coloured hand-decoratet/hand-written (with felt pen) A4 sheet stapled to and wraped around the envelope.
No labels on cassettes.

Terminal Kaleidoscope edition: 1st re-release of this original Mirrordot double cassette. Comes in a A5 size clear plastic bag.

A cassette edition on Barooni edition was planned but never realized.

Jarmusic edition: limited to 50 numbered copies.
Some cassette editions have “Surprise, Surprise” listed as “Tower 4/Surprise…”

Staalplaat edition: “Not for sale in Germany, Austria and Switzerland.”
A5 (Hideous Strength) is not listed on the sleeve

CD edition is a slightly abridged reissue of the double cassette.
The tracks from “Film of the Book” to “The Bride Wore Green” are collectively called ‘Blueprint For The Tower.
The tracks from “Grind” to “The Glory, The Glory” are collectively called ‘The Apocalypse Disco’.
“Malhazka” is the intro to “Curse – the Sequel”, and appears as a part of that track on ‘The Legendary Pink Box’ and the 2xCD edition without being listed.

All selections recorded at Chez Dots throughout 1982/83.  Both volumes have been abridged a little to fit the music into the digital format…  The aforementioned abridging excised 30 minutes of material from the original cassette edition. There are also track index discrepancies when compared to the original cassette release. The corrections are as follows:

* 1-6 is actually “Malhazka” / “Curse (The Sequel)” and appears combined in a similar way on The Legendary Pink Box (where “Malhazka” is also not listed).
* 2-3 is a portion of the 28 minute “Premonition 10” (specifically from 1:29 to 8:07 of the original).
* 2-4 is actually the final 12:23 of “Premonition 10”.
* 2-5 is actually “Grind” and the first five minutes of “Choke”.

It’s also worth noting that “Ego Tripper” from the original cassette release was left off for this edition, though it does appear onThe Legendary Pink Box.

2015 remaster on Bandcamp: The Silverman’s flat was not the biggest…Often he would dash up into the sanctuary of his tiny attic bedroom (in fact a small square room at the top of the stairs) just to escape the throng milling around below. When the biggest part of Chemical Playschool 3/4 was recorded, that restless throng would be juxtaposing for a handy inch or two as the music room was filled with percussion (courtesy of long term Dots’ friend Clive) and a harmonium dating back to Victorian times.

Phil would be playing that beautiful old instrument while EK, Barry, April and Roland would be tapping, bashing and shaking ….often for hours. That ritualistic passage that makes up most of “Premonition 10” is but a fragment….CP 3/4 came out in 1983 and at the time was meant to represent everything The Dots were. Certainly it was the finest of all the cassette albums.
The decision was to make 83 of the the double cassette all housed in handmade collaged covers. Everybody joined in with the cutting, pasting, writing credits with felt-tip pens. It was a noble, if exhausting, exercise. Ultimately that first edition ran to 120, all sold at the price it cost to make them. Some now sadly live in Ebayland.

Since then, there have been further editions, all small runs, and even the abridged double cd edition was cursed as the label went bust shortly after it appeared and then disappeared. It remains a proud chapter in Dots history and this (admittedly flawed ) remaster took the best part of a year to put together. Perfecting the imperfect retaining all those imperfections..  -EK

 

Special ltd edition 4xCDR: The entire journey on 4 cdrs in a special edition of just 115 copies. Packed in a custom wallet with full colour artwork and inserts. Each will also boast a UNIQUE, signed and numbered piece of art from EK or The Silverman in the spirit of that original release back in 1983. Allow a few days for your own personalised package to be created. The cover displayed here is in fact one of the unique artworks in progress- it will be finished shortly.

To see more photos of the art work included in this release, please go to the discogs page.

 

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Lyrics

The Light In My Little Girl’s Eyes

The street looked kind of different – harsher colours, sharper angles. Shops stacked high with stereos and rows of magazines. Smells of coffee, glossy limousines. The sun danced on the chromium. Slant eyes drowning in the light. Lights turned red as elbows jabbed, voices snarled and luck turned sour, Children screamed! Brakes were screeching! Knees were pumping, ribs were crunching. Crushing, drowning deeper. The street looked kind of different. The paving stones were playing cards, and cried out as I skipped from the red to the black. Cracked a joke about the joker, saluted all the kings, threw a ring to the blackest queen who ushered me away to the palace in the square where the air’s so cold and it gets so lonely, so lonely in the night. She whispered sleazy secrets on the couch by the TV. 3D visions of a soapflake, trumpets blared, a voice declared: “Are you feeling dirty?” Yes, but also very pleased. Heard applause, felt the claws in my back, rocking backwards, rocking forwards in the groove. The earth moved! The couch moved! We rolled on the felt, knocked the vases off the shelf… Watched ourselves in the mirror, like animals, like cannibals! And you ate my ear so I nibbled at your shoulder… Rolled your tongue up in my hands – I swallowed it whole. Flesh decreasing by the second until all that remained were the eyes, mine brown, yours black. Tilted back, we stared at the Hollywood sunset. (Hollywood…) Brighter Now… it looks so pretty tonight. The light in my little girl’s eyes…Brighter Now.

The Top

(??? three-liter ???) that’s drawn out to an epic. Fortified with pills, bellies drowning in seeds. Life at the top has reached the bottom. Synthetic manliness bought and sold. A sign, a strain: man, you’re old. Okay, from the top, let’s go. Let’s go. You have a gut and your neck has gone. Dig your own grave, we don’t want cripples here. What’s that you say, no cash? Here, I’ll buy your soul, always willing to help a friend. Drink it quick, drink it quicker, tempting fate. Life is short, if we try we can make it shorter. Yeah, it’s tough at the top. At the top, let’s go.

Neon Gladiators (version one)

Soft pile carpets wall to wall. They’re splashing in the pool. They fornicate in corners and they’re moaning in the haze. It isn’t love, it’s just the smoke. The jokes are bad, the laughs are cruel And Jenny swung a knife. The statues came to life, the stone swords crunching into heads. The carpet turning red. The neon gladiators are sparring sparring on the lawn and trampling on the roses – they make the hostess bawl. The walls are cracking. Detectives leapt from TV screens, they are screaming “freeze!”, their fingers itching. Ducking as a chandelier comes crashing down. While somewhere in another town, a finger pressed a knob, changed the channel, wiped a flannel across his face and danced. Dance divine, dance in sequins. Here come the neon gladiators!

Obsession

I had a picture of you. I sliced it up in two and half my love went in the bin, with the letters. And the purple tie you bought me for my birthday. Tell me! What’s his favorite colour? is it yellow? does he like it when you smoke in bed or burn the eggs or spend his money on those silly things which last for just a week then take their place among the garbage or with some stupid charity. His charity. My charity’s all gone, like those records that you stole when you rolled up our relationship and slipped out unannounced. Christ! you even took the cat. Now I talk to pictures, go to bed at 10 and pretend that I’m asleep, but the bags around my eyes betray me. You betrayed me… I betrayed myself. I’ll live with it, and I’ll find someone else. Don’t you worry… don’t you hurry to the phone. I’m happy on my own, playing patience on the floorboard (hell… I always lose but I don’t care).

Hideous Strength

Swamp juice drifted up the stairs, as Leo washed his hair in soap, and turned into a lion. Well, it’s what the mirror told him. Likes his burgers raw, and make-up red. He shakes his head, the hair just tumbles down. He’s in the jungle now and hungry, looking for an arm to chew on. Tarzan shouting from a poster on the wall. Here’s the rope, take the world on. So he tiptoed to the balcony, and he swung across the street, as buses dodged and shoppers watched. And though he plowed into a window, Leo’s shouting from a rooftop, “I’m King, King of all the Jungle!” But they bundled him away. Away … Now he spends his days talking to the wall of his cell. It’s padded, smells of ether, nurse is smiling sweeter than a can of jungle juice. Pats him on his mane, and he purrs, how he purrs… Meow! Meow! Meow! (How he purrs, meow!) One, two, three, four, five, six, seven: all good kittens go to heaven. (Meow!)

The Waiting Game

A drink of number eight, and I started seeing double, feel the stubble on my chin. A wobble in my knees, and a rumble in my brain, as I stumble into chairs, into tables. Lord, I’m sick of the waiting game. I’m sick of the waiting game. The cable is tight in my hand, and I pull, and the phone’s dead, I’ll bury it. Oh Lord, receive this receiver, receive this deceiver. She said that she’d call. Impatiently I waited for nothing – nothing at all. Still playing the waiting game. Oh Lord, do you think that she’s ill? Oh Lord, do you think she just don’t care? She just don’t care. I’m sick of the waiting game.

Curse (The Sequel)

Curse your daughters. Curse your sons. Blood on the altar – see it run. Slaughter with a glance, a wish. The glass is moving, it spells out Y-O-U OWE ME. Know me! You know what I can do when I’m screaming from inside. Go hide! go hide, go hide away and cringe. I’ve got your picture, I’ve got the pins. Got a picture of him! A picture of him. Effigies of my baby! Ha ha ha ha! [sample of Betty Boop song, “oh I do dream of you, the whole night through, boop boop be doop”]

She Said

She said: “No complications…been hurt too many times before. Each time gets a little harder – hurt you if you stay for more.” She said: “It was different last night. You were a tiger on the prowl. Scary, but attractive to me. You don’t attract me now.” She said: “We’re worlds apart, no common ground outside the bed. What would we say, when we’re both sober. You’d fly miles above my head.” She said: “You’re so naive. I’d cheat you when your back was turned. The way the world goes around, you really got a lot to learn.” She said: “Don’t bother phoning; I’d slam the receiver down. I just want to be alone sometimes. Don’t hang around.” Somewhere, someone’s laughing. Somewhere, someone’s laughing at me.

Film of the Book (Instrumental)

Tower 1 (version one)

Faces at a window, fingers clutching at the bars. A fly skips from an eyebrow to an elbow, across a scar. And stars are laughing as the wind bites – doesn’t leave a mark, because the Tower stands impregnable, a beacon in the dark. And if you listen carefully, you’ll hear a baby cry. Torn screaming from her mother’s womb – the lady nearly died. But the torment never stops, it’s written right across the eyes of George, of Jeannie, Charlotte, Renie, Uncle Geoff, Cousin Julie. Sky dye on her fingers. The air was turning blue, as captain whispered, “Blindfold’s optional – you wouldn’t like the view!” She shook her head and shouted back, “I’d like to see this through.” Then joined the line of hostages – was 13th in the queue. And no-one names a crime committed, no-one blames a soul. Their cases heard so long ago – forgot about parole. And faculties are failing because they’re really very old. And sick. And tired, much too jaded. How they weep, cos how they hate it. No-one has the key to the Tower. No-one has the key to the Tower.

Lullaby for Charles’ Brother

Hated the world, despised its people, always prepared to put him down. Key politicians tried to con him, anxious to keep him flat on the ground. No giving in, they couldn’t take him, he battled back with fists held high. But he was mowed down in the stampede, piggies come rushing from their sty. (Sty.) So he linked up with demonstrations, jumped on, arrested in Whitehall. Drew out a carving knife for his course: piggies in blood across the wall. Mummy was shocked but he’s immortal, four page pull-out in the Sunset. This is the love that hated systems; just couldn’t see the system’s won. (Won.)

Collapse (Instrumental)

Tower 2

Monkey see, monkey do. Monkey’s got no point of view. Captain points and she points too. Clever monkey! Monkey’s got to know her place. No future in the ‘master race’. Monkey spat in Captain’s face – they cut her tongue out. Threw it to a doberman named Rover. He can eat a man in 20 seconds flat – prefers a cat. In the courtyard shuffled deviants with gold stars, they’re scarred with numbers, as guards raise their cards. It’s 6.2, 6.7. Book a place in heaven with a nine. Under five and in the corner for a session in the sauna. Naked, being born again – they’re sliding down the chutes. And the garden’s looking fine. There’s lots of water, lots of lime and Captain spends most of his time in the deckchair. And there’s weeping in the queue, and Lady Gwyneth’s weeping too – sickened, yet she voted blue. She knows it. And night patrols are doing rounds. There’s Tower complex, Tower Towns. Population’s going down, but we’re great again…

Glad He Ate Her

See the slaughter, hear the laughter. They were gathered on the lawn. Flags are flying, soldiers crying in their dapper uniforms. Glad he ate her. Raised to save her. All the thumbs were pointing down. Blade descending; party’s ending. They threw off their dressing gowns, and screwed for the Empire. Screwed for the Queen.

Barbed Obituary (Instrumental)

Tower 3

The echo of a thousand marching boots hammers on the air. They’re singing anthems, chanting oaths and whistle as Salome lifts her skirt because they’re ‘real’ men and they’re healthy, happy… own the place. They raise hell when they’re sober, wrestle tigers when they’re drunk. In the living room a picture of the queen nestles in between Miss August and a placard saying HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS. (Keep it pure, keep it white. Keep it free of undesirables because freedom is so valuable and getting scarcer.). Fight! So they march. Smashing windows, splashing slogans, pushing petrol bombs through doors til a uniform appears. Gently whispers in the ear of the leader. “That’s against the law – but we’ll ignore it this time. Peace Krime’s got to be official!” Keep it clean. Keep it quiet. In a lonely moor the digger’s working, bigger holes hold more. And the villagers stay silent, no-one questions, no-one dares. And the patriots stay in as convoys rattle down the street. No-one hears the weeping, no-one listens for the cracks at dawn. The shovelling goes on and on and on. But the patriots aren’t frightened cos they heard it on T.V. that a Golden Age lies ’round the corner. Any Day Now…

Espresso Curfew (Instrumental, with one unintelligible line)

Surprise, Surprise

Red with pretty ribbons, with a multi-coloured stamp. Postmark blurred, but sealed with a big red kiss. She didn’t hear the tick-a-tick-a-tick. She wasn’t listening. Busy shaking cocktails, laying out the table – all the big names coming for the party. Marks the start of the Golden Age: resistance finished, bouquets line the hall. Telephone forever ringing, singing in the streets: hooray, hooray! The guests rolled up in limousines, flags flying on the bonnets. Medals gleaming ’round the table. Captain took his cap off, with the golden braid … it rolled away. The maid was told to wheel in all the flowers and the gifts. Glasses lifted, cards were sifted. Captain made a silent wish as he blew out all the candles on the cake. (It was a master bake.) The sweetest parcel rested on the table. Captain cut the purple ribbon, leader chose the yellow, and she peeled the paper back … and something snapped – a sour smell, it blew them all to he(ll)!

The Bride Wore Green (Instrumental)

When the Clock Strikes 13

We’ll make a secret rendezvous with a view, like a bridge at nighttime. We’ll stare across the water, we’ll share a cigarette. Stroll down the embankment, never say a word, like a film, like a story you heard. Lovers holding hands in silence. No one understands – a secret in a hostile world. Defiant stand, they’re making plans, a studio in Paris. I could write a novel, get turned down. You’ll sympathize: you’ll write a poem, all for me, all for me. And each time we make love always seems like the first time. No novelty romance, cos what we have is meant to last, it’s in the script, and though it’s looking like a storm is brewing and the news is getting bleaker all the time – we’ve got each other. And all is going to be fine. When the clock chimes thirteen times, that’s our time. That’s our time.

Just Passing Over, Lovey …

He’s here with you now – in this room. See the haze. And my, how he’s changed, yet he’s really the same. Deep inside. Say, remember that tie you bought, a month before he died: how he’d hide it away in a drawer. You’re convinced: yes it’s him, and he’s fine. It’s another way of life. No, no-one really dies, they just pass over. Hover over us constantly. Just passing over. Is anybody there? Is anybody there?

Premonition 10 (stages i/ii/iii) (Instrumental)

Grind (Instrumental)

Choke

A trace of ash, grey stain on the carpet. I didn’t know you smoked – what brand? It wrecks your health, it burns your wealth, it’s written on the packet. How doctors never smoked, and how it costs much more than money. Sunny days in hospital, they’re having fun outside, while you’re coughing in your iron lung – no fun, no laughs, no ha-ha-ha. And low-tar diet, acupuncture cure. Monkey suffers just for you in cold laboratories. Sorry looks, tied by wires, dreaming of a (nut?) that’s in the jungle. Jungle (punk?). Choke!

The Plasma Twins

Give me plasma, make it soon, your love is not enough. I’ve got you in my heart, but I want you in my veins. And I’ll meet you at the blood bank, they could pump you into me – it’s only fair cos you know I like pumping into you. Give me plasma, be my plasma doll, my plasma lady fair. It’s nice to know we’re always sharing, a love like ours is rare. Yeah, I’ll show you my muscles, if you give me your corpuscles. I’ll have your blood, and you’ll have my seed. We’ll grow together, the plasma twins. The plasma twins. You won’t feel a thing – the plasma twins. The plasma twins – that’s us.

Apocalypse Soon

Our hero shimmers in the corner, nags, “A saccarini in my tea, my teeny queen” in a green bikini. Ate all night, and it shows as she gropes for a pill, and she groans that she’s ill, and she grumbles to Bill, “Get your bloody tea yourself!” Cos my health’s not as good as it seems. And the TV screen screams, scene’s getting worse. But our leader’s calm, she reads out a verse from the Bible. She pleads how the cause that we die for is blessed by the angels with rifles and skies full of bombs. It’s an eye for an eye and the trifles are high aiming right for the eyes of the enemies of freedom. A comfort. Triumphant! What more do we need as we bleed from the bowels, til the towel stinks, the smells sticks. The stale sick is caked on the lino we lie on, we’ll die on. Well, if I have to go that way, I’d rather melt with you. Just we two, I’ll melt with you. Coming soon. I’ll melt with you. (Only you can make my dreams come true.) I’d rather melt with you.

Apocalypse Gone (Instrumental)

Cherry Lipstick

Tried to run, but still you caught me. Tried to hide, but still you found me. Tried to smile, you wiped it from my face. A trace of madness in your eyes. I lied, I know I’m wrong. The game’s been going on too long. The soap was in the kitchen all the time. And I hid it, cos I like you with your make-up on. I like you with your make-up on. Come on babe, we’ll paint the town together. (Cha-cha?) Together. Yes, I like you with your make-up on. Come on babe, paint your face cos we’re going out tonight.

It’s Raining … Again (Instrumental)

The Glory, the Glory

Marble halls and city walls. He lined them all with figures tall who called to passers-by and cast their eyes with scorn on forms imperfect – spread across the lawns, and born to wonder why they coughed and cursed and died, cos statues – they never die. They keep their beauty, hardly worn, though storms have tried to break them. And bombs dropped at their feet. Still standing, naked, but they’re warm. Waiting for their turn to rule a world where nothing speaks, and nothing’s small – nothing’s ever worshipped. Where they’re gods themselves. A ‘perfect’ world. A world of silence, a world of stone. On their own, alone.

Transcribed by Nancy Thuleen

 

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS

<< back to the Combined Discography

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Release date and tracklist

1983
UK LP In Phaze PHA2

1986 and/or 1988
NL LP/CD Terminal Kaleidoscope/Play It Again Sam TK002

1996
US CD Soleilmoon SOL40 (different cover)
PL CS Big Blue TK02-4

2002
PL CD Big Blue L-0112 (different cover)

side a

1. Love Puppets – [MP3]
2. Wall Purges Night – [MP3]
3. Lisa’s Party – [MP3]
4. Arzhklahh Olgevezh! – [MP3]
5. Pruumptje Kurss – [MP3]

side b

1. Waving At The Aeroplanes – [MP3]
2. Hiding – [MP3]
3. Dolls’ House – [MP3]
4. The Palace Of Love – [MP3]
5. Stoned Obituary – [MP3]

***

03 June 2012
NL Remastered MP3 self-released on Bandcamp

1. Love Puppets
2. Wall Purges Night
3. Lisa’s Party
4. Arzhklahh Olgevezh! / Pruumptje Kurss*
5. Waving At The Aeroplanes
6. Hiding
7. Dolls’ House / The Palace Of Love*
8. Stoned Obituary

* songs have been combined into one track to preserve the cross-fade.

***

30 July 2021
US Remastered MP3/CD/2xLP Metropolis Records / LPD’s Bandcamp

1. Love Puppets
2. Wall Purges Night
3. Lisa”s Party
4. Arzhklahh Olgevezh / Pruumptje Kurss
5. Waving At The Aeroplanes
6. Hiding
7. Dolls’ House / The Palace of Love
8. Stoned Obituary
9. A Day At The Dreamies (version 1)
10. Ideal Home (version)
11. Even Now / Eventide
12. Curse- The  Sequel / An Accursed Jam
13. Premonition 5

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Credits

• Aradia – keyboards, occ. vocal, glox
• Stret Majest – guitars, prazhada
• D’Archangel – vocals, electronics, glox
• The Silver Man- synthesizers, malvezh percussion
• Pruumptje Juste – bass, suste glox
• Keith Thompson – drums, vocal
• Sally Graves – flute, voice
• Pazhklah Zzappp – extra percussion

engineered by Pat Bermingham

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Notes

The first initial release by “In Phaze” is limited to 2500 copies. Vinyl etching: Side A – PROZHTET MILITAT / Side B – KLAZH

1988 Terminal Kaleidoscope/PIAS CD:
“Sing while you may”  The Terminal Kaleidoscope manufactured and distributed by Play It Again Sam
Made in Austria.

Terminal Kaleidoscope/PIAS CD version has the following tracking problems: “Dolls’ House” and “Palace of Love” are together on track 8 and “Stoned Obituary” is split into tracks 9 and 10

1996 Solielmoon CD:
This was the first issue of the album on CD in the U.S. and features different artwork from the European versions as well as printed lyrics. This edition was initially available as part of the Lullabies For The New Dark Ages box set.

This edition maintains the same track index problems that plagued the original European version.
“Doll’s House” and “The Palace Of Love” appear together on track 8. Actual track times: 4:54 & 2:56.
“Stoned Obituary” is split amongst tracks 9 and 10. Actual track time: 11:49.

Catalog number is listed as “SOL 40 CD” on spine but “sol 40 cd” on disc.

The booklet credits Sally Graves for lyrics on “Purity,” which does not appear on this release. The track was originally planned to be one of several bonus tracks for the reissue, but was instead released on Prayer For Aradia in 1996.

Big Blue cassette:
A cassette remix of this album called Curse: The Sequel was planned but never released

Big Blue CD:
With 12 page booklet of lyrics in English and Polish.  SPV edition has “Stoned Obituary” mistitled “Stone Puppets”.

From Bandcamp:
From 1983, this was meant to be the first LPDs vinyl album, but it was delayed owing to the NER label’s desire to release “Brighter Now” in this format. In the interim, certain tracks were left out (“Powdercrowd”, “Purity” and “The Light in my little girl’s eyes”)

2021 Remaster:
CD has 11 tracks, LP has 13
2xLP edition of 500
Bandcamp- “Curse” was intended as the Pink Dots’ first official album, but a surprise request from a label to release the cassette album “ Brighter Now” on vinyl meant the proposed debut was delayed for a year.
In the interim, many new songs were recorded, the line-up of the band changed and the entire complexion of the album changed drastically.
It remains a strong favourite within the Dots’ community to this day.

Metropolis Records- 1983’s Curse marks an intersection of styles and influences that form the Legendary Pink Dots sound: a deft balance between pop arrangements and sonic experiments, ornamented imagery, somber double-entendres, Gothic yet witty arrangements, experimentalism, and  psychedelics. Curse rises as an artistically successful turning point to the beginnings of the era of the Dots’ best ’80s releases

Printing error notice from Edward- I just heard from Metropolis about the issues with “Curse” and “Island Of Jewels” cds. Somehow all the vinyl/ web only bonus tracks are listed on the tray card of the cd editions. In fact, even if we’d wanted to include those pieces, the capacity of a cd doesn’t allow for this. It’s a serious bummer, but essentially a printing error. I do apologise to all who have bought the cd editions and expected more, but that is technically impossible, alas.

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Lyrics

Love Puppets

You offered me a cigarette, I pirouette… with sihlouettes of statuettes. We’re ice behind a window. Would you be my widow? Would you even be my wife? Life’s not long enough for questions of sessions over cakes and coffees. Therapy, I’ve had enough of – I want to change things overnight, because I’ve been alone too long.. too long.. too long…

And you say you understand me when I hardly know myself. So much talk so many theories – it’s really such a bore for me. The story stays the same – it goes on and on… What gives you the right to analyze? You paralyze me with your probing. In the end I just agree… Maybe we’re just puppets after all. Love puppets. (not glove puppets! Hearts of gold, souls on string. My soul’s on a string… Love Puppets! My heart’s a shiny gold.)

Why the tricks? Why the teasers? Can’t I even please you for an hour? Won’t you simply listen? I’ve got a lot to say about us and plans and things that we could do… (I need you NOW don’t leave me…)

Wall Purges Night

Right hand raised. The left plants stickers – picking out the deviant. A choice of colours, inclinations, factions that see only red. He wants them dead. He kills them in his mirror when it’s dark… And when he thinks that no-one is looking he spreads the spraypaint and leaves his mark. Swastikas shout out from walls, they’re tattooed on a million fists. Clenched together, safe in numbers… waving from the precipice. Fodder! Plod on down your icy path… A cannon is waiting for the fodder. Enlightenment comes with a blast. A bang. A bangabangabang…

Another place. A different story. Fingers play with stale cigars. Business creeks, the warehouse leaks, the chairman sold his daughter’s car. He’s reading charts and sharpening knives for cutting when the time seems right – for him alone. No pause for mercy if the victim’s out of sight.

Equality is a word for cranks to shout out as the batons swing. It’s beautiful in theory… he knows it’s not for him. He’s got his fodder!

In higher places, clocks chime for the meeting of the lords. They stay discreet as guilty secrets cause no shame behind closed doors. A portion for the megabomb. A portion for the queen… can’t forget the army or the law ‘cos they have to keep the cities clean. And sure they know they’ll get their way as protests echo from the streets. (The blood is thicker from the streets) His hired guns and sheets of armor gives them shelter through the heat! The fodder…

But there are other bullets, other walls, where justice cries in shiny red. Where reason dies and passion burns persuasion’s just a hole in the head. Purges after midnight… There’s no discretion in the mass. A volley. A silence as they cover up the mess.

Don’t kid yourself. You’re civilized – it could happen anywhere. In choking cities, steaming jungles… maybe even here.

Lisa’s party

The retinue wore togas, toked on opium and drank each’s other’s wine. They nibbled peanuts, spoke of heinous and premeditated crimes between the politics and the poems. Conversation stayed refined at Lisa’s party. having a real good time.

A legendary film star smashed a glass when a man guessed at her age. The ceiling opened and revealed the naked lady in a cage. A fireater scorched his chin and departed in a rage from Lisa’s party. Isn’t it jolly fun?

An artist bit a chicken’s head off and laughed as he passed the rest around. Pieces quivered their coctail sticks but were swallowed without a sound. A trampolinist jumped too high came crashing to the ground at Lisa’s party. Isn’t it a whizz!

Now Lisa was the perfect hostess… She planned a big surprise. She spread the cyanide in layers across her delicate mince pies and told her guests “A hint of almond makes the dullest cake seem nice.” And they all died.

Arzhklahh Olgevezh!

@ Just for fun, I decided to do this so we can “sing as we may” @ This is just my guess of how to phonetically spell whatever the hell @ Edward is singing. — $aint @ndrew — (saint_andrew@anl.gov)

@ [Edward]: @ rumje olgesh domnuboye havastom delaveeta rumnabeshkavol ola vromdiga oma @ olzhdela ola olgevezhnida istabul doine mollabas ozhnaveeda bruumcher @ olhevest oiee-oiee-oi roshnaveeda rohmnevesta robesta indegera stun

@The below is another version done by sdoljack@wopr.gsm.uci.edu (Jackaal)

pruumptje auge staunde boi, leva stahn dela veenum bronenbezhtebahh. ala fundegahh, ama arzhklahh, ala olgevezh neda ist gedau doin. smolebas, pruzhnaveeda pruumptje alabes oi, oi, oi! pruzhnaveeda rohm nebestahh. robesta indegedan stahn.

@ [April?]: No one understood him No one understood him at all (I understood him) (I … ????)

@ [Edward]: inna keesta binhol stan istanna boshne bollabista bohlla inna bolstamist brumistavaston olgesty boshtenbolest estinna lostinmist motsnivolsha ozhgalah

@ [April?]: No one comprehended No one comprehended at all (the second two is just her singing “ahhh”…)

@ [Edward]: brrrnigaiy moshdebazne bohldepebahdne voshnemahdne inmahnne bohzhdul mohnezhdevozht mohneshdepulcher ohbdestulul oshdne blol oshgala ohgevai olgevezh olgevezh

@ [April]: No one understood him No one understood him at all Veeshtehne krauden de vazh (?) <—— is this German?!?!? Veeshtehn lauden de taut (?) <–/ (someone who knows german, listen to this part…)

@ [Edward]: hib blauud (und) mistdowht jumgaider destaht

Bistragavohhnt … (he’s shouting)… (Ed repeats the first part?)… (then he shouts again, Ozhnaveeda? something…

Waving at the aeroplanes

Waving at the aeroplanes… See my hand swing left swing right. Milk white in the dawn sky, dives to the brown earth. Bound to an arc that only I can see. See me crouch on the grass, on the concrete; eyes slit tight, fist clenched and bleeding. Faith moves mountains headfirst into seas. Waving at the aeroplanes… make them crash crash crash on the runway, crash on the motorway. I’ll show them how it pays to just wave back… Wave back to me to me… They crack in the dawn, get wrapped in the cloud shroud. It’s raining limbs, white wings and aspirins. Pitter patter scatter brains and burn… Fly me!!!

Hiding (transcribed)

Simple expressions hide my ignorance. How can you tell how you feel, when the words just don’t exist? The pain and the anguish, the slaughtered dreams, the harvest of ill-conceived, wretchedly-worded emotion. Look at me, touch me; I’m human and awkward, longing to be found, incapable of exposing myself.

Dolls’ House

The kitchen smells of parafin, the stairways turning black and teddy’s looking tired cause he’s lying on his back. Crackling curtains dance in ribbons, flames are waltzing down the hall – a beetle turns a summersault in a matchbox by the wall. He’s getting restless with his lettuce. Frying tonight in the Dolls House! Mummy’s smiling with a match, blows softly through the doorway and draws patterns in the ash. Crackle Crackle Flash Flash!

Golly’s leaning out of the window. He gives a little wave and as only gollys can but he can’t come out to play. Sparks creep up his trouser leg but he doesnt care cause he’s busy watching mummy comb her curly hair. Very pretty on the setee… Playing tonight in the dolls house. Mummys smiling with a match, blows softly thru the doorway and draws patterns in the ash. Fizzle Fizzle Zap Zap!

Up on the second floor little Wendy takes a bath; her skin is melting slowly but she manages to laugh. She knows a dozen words or more; she’s always so polite – pull her string out slowly and she’ll sing all thru the night, sing forever – really clever!

Frying tonight in the dolls house but mommys getting bored; she tore up all her comics ‘cos she’s not a kiddie anymore. Nor is Daddy.

The palace of Love

“Don’t mind me…” she whispered. “Go ahead and do just what you want to do. Go rob a bank or go smash a window. I’ll be waiting here with your slippers and your tea. If they haul you off to jail, I’ll visit every Tuesday. I’ll keep the chainlock on the door and buy everything mail-order. I’ll plant those photographs of you on every wall, in every corner. I’ll have you staring from the ceiling, I’ll stay loyal even when I’m dreaming. I’ll see no-one else at all. You’re my universe, my guide, my reason for existence. I’ll do anything you ask me – anything at all I belong to you. BELONG! You own me, made me, have the power to destroy me… Go ahead I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m on all fours, just do the hell what you like! I’m yours! You have my soul. Sell it if you want to. I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours. Go ahead, sell my soul. I’m yours…”

Stoned Obituary

lightning cracked a crooked cross across the sky above the cross where he’d been hanging for a day (he was stoned again!) The breeze grew ice threw knives blew halos hallowed cinders flew together made a cushion for his feet. There were spikes in his sandals, spikes in his ankles… A spike split the wood, syringed his vertabrae. Spikes in his shins in his chin in his fingers… Amused apparitions hummed the Marsollaise. We had to look away, he seemed so fragile. We tried to offer him a cigarette but it was futile… no way through. The guards screamed “Front!”, drew guns, splashed acid.. so we retreated to the shadows squated low and said a prayer Cameras clicked out of sight there are fights, there were fanfares. Fireworks flashed across the cenotaph. Kiddies played in the pits, spitting crisps, licking icecreams. A spiv threw an auction for his autograph. I never thought it would finish quite this way. No resistance not a word to say but maybe we’ll meet in heaven. We can talk about those good old days. I believe (at least I WANT to believe)

The angels landed cleared their throats and chorused “Crown Him!” They poured a potion on his hair it nearly drowned him. Then they called a minute’s silence. They called the clowns in and a cripple touched his foot and did a cartwheel down the hill… turning once for his wisdom, twice for the pearl moon. A third as the thief cried “It’s judgement day.” He rolled his eyes, ripped his shirt rolled insane in the dirt. Applause ripped the heavens and blew the clouds away. The laughter died as schoolgirls passed around the tissues. Pretty patterns while a message said “We’ll miss you. Bless you. Bless your eyes.” And the bell rang twice and we fell as his lips moved. We stared in stoney silence as the news guy scribbled furiously down his final words: “I made mistakes. I’ve been a fool. I tried hard byt never thought that what started so well could end in misery. But my motives were good. I thought you all understood… Just don’t be hard when this day is cloaked in history. You mistrusted me? …,” And he died with his eyes on… ash for ashes dust for dust a lust for dust a must for dust die with your eyes on…

Nomini magnus spiritus sancti filia