THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS

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Release date and tracklist

1991
BE/US LP/CS Play It Again Sam BIAS184

side a

1. Disturbance – [MP3]
2. Pennies For Heaven – [MP3]
3. Third Secret – [MP3]
4. The Grain Kings – [MP3]

side b

1. The Ocean Cried ‘Blue Murder’ – [MP3]
2. Belladonna – [MP3]
3. A Space Between – [MP3]
4. Evolution – [MP3]

***

1991
BE/US CD Play It Again Sam BIAS225

2002
US CD Cacciocavallo CAD21
PL CD Big Blue SPVL-0042  (different cover)

28 May 2012
NL Remastered MP3 self-released on Bandcamp

1. Disturbance – [MP3]
2. Pennies For Heaven – [MP3]
3. Third Secret – [MP3]
4. The Grain Kings – [MP3]
5. The Ocean Cried ‘Blue Murder’ – [MP3]
6. Belladonna – [MP3]
7. A Space Between – [MP3]
8. Evolution – [MP3]
9. Cheraderama – [MP3]
10. Lilith – [MP3]
11. Fourth Secret – [MP3]
12. Expresso Noir – [MP3]
13. Home – [MP3]
14. Crushed Velvet – [MP3]

bonus 3″ CD*

1. I Dream Of Jeannie – [MP3]
2. Little Oyster – [MP3]
3. She Gave Me An Apple – [MP3]
4. Stirred But Not Shaken – [MP3]
5. Where No Man – [MP3]

***

February 15, 2015
US 5xLP Soleilmoon Recordings 11912
Please see The Maria Dimension Complete Recordings for complete track listing.

November 11, 2022
US 3xCD Soleilmoon Recordings SOL 187
Please see The Maria Dimension Complete Recordings for complete track listing.

Credits

• The Silver Man-Keys, devices, percussion
• Father Pastorius- Guitars, bass, percussion
• Niels van Hoornblower- horns, percussion
• The Prophet Qa’Sepel– vox, keys, devices
• Hans Meyer
• Jason
• Marie

Cover by Stephan Barbery

Notes

Produced by the Legendary Pink Dots.
* The first 3000 copies of European CD edition include the bonus 3″ CD, the tracks of which were later released on Chemical Playschool 8 & 9.

Review

Like recent Jackpot! nominees Tuxedomoon, Edward Ka-Spel had the good sense to abandon ship-in this case, England-for the Benelux’s less congested hospitality, even though he’s consistently held a definitively English tenure on psychedelia-namely the folk-minstrel tradition, as typified and vindicated by Sir Syd Barrett. Ed and sidekick Phil Knight’s 12th in-exile release as the Dots, The Maria Dimension, is the epitome of “kaleidoscopic”; these subdued, glowing coals of electronics, electro-acoustic guitar/ sitar, brass, clarinet and voices (“sometimes from beyond,” the sleeve says) come in pulsating colours, stained Eastern and Western, some with nursery rhyme fragility-side two’s exquisite swooners “The Ocean Cried “Blue Murder”‘ and “Belladonna” for example-while others spurt ultra vividly, like slow-motion fireworks, as on “The Third Secret” and “The Grain Kings.” The nine-minute closer “Evolution” connects heavily with Spacemen 3’s luminous dream-drones (refer to “Ecstacy Symphony”)-an inseparable chicken-and-egg situation here-as well as the post-Syd Barrett, space-chasing Pink Floyd, although to deny Syd Barrett isn’t the Dots’ ever-present watchman is to deny the Dots breathe oxygen (nb: vocally, Ed shares the same careworm quaver as the Only Ones’ Peter Perrett, a Barrett disciple in his own right). But The Maria Dimension is such a personal mindscan; the likes of “A Space Between”‘s labyrinthal collage-50 pastel shades of baroque-or “Disturbance”‘s mantra-sonic undertow are legendary, flushed pink, unique. If the duo were “English”-oh, the irony!- they’d be crowned by front covers by now, guaranteed. – Martin Aston, CMJ

Lyrics

Disturbance

We ride on the avalanche we climb the melting red lungs of the ladder that leads high to a darkening moon. We’re the watchers of disaster, we’re the dancers on your tomb. We’re the invisible invaders of your privacy… your dreams. We’re the spectres on your screen. We murmur sweet transparent lunacy on hot oppressive nights – you shine a light and you will see just a shadow.

Pennies for Heaven

Chasing the carrion, we watched the silver bird explode. We tiptoed through the barrier of smoke and took a hand, but found it unconnected. We were dining on the wreckage – white napkins round our necks, we took our plastic spoons and ate. We ate until we couldn’t move, ’til sunset turned the desert red and startled souls ascended to Oblivion. A fat man with a guilty face held back and tried to hide his case as angels chanted, “You can’t take it with you…” So we’re told, Heaven’s paved with gold-but it HAS to come from somewhere?! Paradise. It has it’s price. We’re forced to crawl through needle’s eyes. Our price. Our choice. We rarely make the right one.

The Third Secret

New martyrs swinging in the wind. The dead eyes searching for messiahs in the stars. The bodies carrying the scars of no confession, no concession. No sympathy. The laughter from the front row buzzing loudly now in bars, over chicken in a basket, in the darkest corners of the Central Station. Passing round the spirit that drove Rommel to his desert hole, smashed diamonds, stripped the gold from hidden cities in Brazil. And killed the savage in the name of Mary… Burn the witch, whip the bitch who shows her ankles on the Sabbath. Bring the kids aged 1 to 63 – the family treat. Maybe there will be a vision of messiahs in the stars. Now all confess and make a wish. The priest is passing round the dish…our Lady’s selling tissues for the tears, for all the years of blessed rape in the name of our sweet lord.

The Grain Kings

We will sow the seeds together. We shall feed the fertile ground. We will wait then we shall gather fruits to feed our hungry mouths. We’ll feast, we’ll toast the one who sends the storm, who shapes the corn. We line the circles. In the Fall, we fall…… Come the dawn he’ll strech his hands and take the last born to the land beyond our tidy tidy lawns, and no, no lamb of ours will be deformed!

The Ocean Cried “Blue Murder”

Penguin spins the caviar… Trois rouge. We drown it quick before it hatches. We wash it down with absynthe, spit it out with roses. Captain turns the hoses on the crawling crowd. We’re on a cloud, we’re on our knees, we’re singing all the songs our fathers taught us. Still the band plays on (relieved!). They locked up all their daughters, deep down, horizontal in the hold. We’re much too old and much too drunk to hold a conversation. Too far gone to see the mountain waving through the crack that was the floor.

Belladonna

Belladona. Sea blue marshmallow eyes. Belladonna sees you – it’s just a disguise. She sees nothing but grey. Belladonna. Ice cool, shaken not stirred. Belladonna. Whisper only the word and she would wash the day away… And as I faded through the years, she found an answer to the tears. It wasn’t wise, but no, no humble mortal ever matched these eyes. Belladonna – pretty name for a slave. Belladonna. Starburst – shouts from the grave “I’ll remember our dawn.”

A Space Between

Billy was a car crash – all he ever knew was pain. Lived a milli-milli- milli-second; never born again. Though no one saw him coming, plenty witnessed his remains – laid a wreath yet they never knew him… Me? I’m just the rain, laid poor Billy to eternal rest, eternal rust. I soaked the dust that covers him, I wait for all the others. They all have names… Red Harry was a bright young spark that flew and burned old London Town in ’66. He flew to bits. He tore it down (bubonic bliss!). And me? I’m just the kiss our maker blew to put him out. To eternal rest. Eternal rust. To dust, to ash. I cover up and wait for all the others. We all have names… Georgie was cut on Hitler’s knee. He ran for weeks, turned shades of green… They kidnapped me and made him clean… On Winter nights, I still hear him scream. I cover up. I wait for all the others. Jane? Her mother was a hurricane who swept the plains and sneezed away a continent with me (the sea). The team that made a myth by hiding it. Became a hit on Broadway but it wasn’t quite the same – they all FORGOT our names. We ALL have names.

Evolution

If God was egg, if six were nine… If time was never measured, only killed in pleasure gardens of our making. If we’d never taken anything, but only given… If we could forgive, forget and rearrange the patterns. If you’d never thrown a stone or split the atom – ate the apple… if… If I’d stayed alone in shackles feeling nothing, seeing nothing in my head… If we’d shared instead of just collecting. If we’d never lived… If… If we’d ever… If we never never, never land but fly without a destination, cry without a cause, and lose ourselves for just a second at the beauty of it all… Then maybe in the next life we’d be dolphins.

Cheraderama

Colliding in the stroboscope… Yes, now you see me, now you don’t. Tonight I’m dressed in black, I mourn the death of colour. Hopeless, crying in my wine through happy hour; trace the lines that crawl across my face and round my eyes. Watch the ballerinas fly on powder clouds through six dimensions, seeing just the patterns on the wall. Cold eyes searching for a space that’s warm enough to take them through the night. There’s only black & white. Express. We never touch, we only press. Can taste the desperation in your breath, I swear that I’ll protect you if you’d only look into my eyes. Chose your masks and raise your armour. Eyes down for Cheraderama!

Lilith

Sixteen shades of sorrow on a starless night with no escape to dawn. She hugged the sand; she cursed the storm for 16 days and no tomorrows. Mourning friends who fled and loves that died stillborn… A lifetime miming, hiding from the touch that claims… unchained her from the lie that was her past. A hollow tear lay drying on the mask, behind the veil, behind the mask, behind the vizor… And somewhere spiteful spirits laughed at her – the last survivor. Because she’d always been alone, she’d always be alone.

Expresso Noir

Crushed in the corridor, swimming in smoke. Broken leg, aching head – tried polite conversation in braille. Broken French. Though my friend chews his garlic, he’s dead from his head to his sandles. I tear at the handle and we came to a shuddering stop and we topple like dominoes, swallowed the hot tide of bread crumbs and cheap wine… The cavalry dived into action with batons… knives… they gave me a fine, ripped the shirt off my back, threw my case on the tracks – saw it smashed to a fragmented mess by the midnight express from Atlantis. OO-OO. A manifestation of pure liquid light. Never stops at the stations, it flies overnight as we crawl in a circle. The sinks overflow. All the windows are enclosed and the ape on my shoulder’s overdosed. He rattles a can for some change then he rolls around, over in pain and wraps his legs around my ankles. I try to complain… All I want is a coffee and GET OFF THIS TRAIN! OO-OO.

Crushed Velvet

Through your eyes I saw the red sun burst and slowly melt into the Dead Sea… Through your eyes I watched your hand expand, and crush a dozen trees, like they were dead leaves. Through your ears I heard the mountain laugh, the banshee cry, the statue of Mohammed roll a dice to plastic Buddah, screaming “Christ! Another six – I guess it’s time to pack my things and head back slowly to Nirvana. Through your senses I kissed dying time. So it goes we stand alone by standing stones and turn them into circles.

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS

<< back to the Combined Discography

Release date and tracklist

1991
IT CS Old Europa Cafe

Side A

1. Love Puppets
2. Curious Guy
3. Jewel In The Crown
4. Premonition 16
5. Echo Police
6. I’m The Way, The Truth, The Light

Side B

1. Poppy Day
2. The Dairy
3. Flowers For The Silverman
4. The Jungle
5. The Hill
6. The Heretic

Credits

• Edward Ka-Spel – vocals
• Phil Harmonix – synthesizers
• Patrick Wright – violin
• Stret Majest Alarme – guitar
• Jason Salmon – bass guitar
• Hanz Myre – mix electronic

Notes

Recorded 15.2.1987 in Torino, Italy.  This release was first released as a bootleg, but later sanctioned by the LPDs.

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS

<< back to the Combined Discography

Release date and tracklist

1992
BE/US LP/CS Play It Again Sam BIAS225

BE/US CD Play It Again Sam BIAS225

2001
US CD Cacciocavallo CAD22
US CD Soleilmoon 04258
***
2006
PL CD Big Blue  SPVL-0052

1. Zero Zero
2. Guilty Man
3. Ghosts Of Unborn Children – [MP3]
4. City Of Needles
5. Stitching Time
6. Twilight Hour
7. The Key To Heaven
8. Laughing Guest
9. Prague Spring – [MP3]
10. Leper Colony – [MP3]

29 May 2012
NL Remastered MP3 self-released on Bandcamp

1. Zero Zero
2. Guilty Man / Ghosts Of Unborn Children – [MP3]*
3. City Of Needles
4. Stitching Time / Twilight Hour*
5. The Key To Heaven
6. Laughing Guest
7. Prague Spring – [MP3]
8. Leper Colony – [MP3]

* tracks are combined to preserve cross-fades

***

22 June 2018

US CD/LP Metropolis Records

CD

1. Zero Zero
2. Guilty Man – Ghosts Of Unborn Children
3. City Of Needles
4. Stitching Time – Twilight Hour
5. The Key To Heaven
6. Laughing Guest
7. Prague Spring
8. Leper Colony
9. Stitching Time First Version

LP

DISC 1

1. Zero Zero
2. Guilty Man – Ghosts Of Unborn Children
3. City Of Needles
4. Stitching Time – Twilight Hour

DISC 2

1. The Key To Heaven
2. Laughing Guest
3. Prague Spring
4. Leper Colony
5. Stitching Time First Version (Instrumental)
6. A Dead Sea Scroll

Credits

• Edward Ka-Spel– voice, keyboards
• The Silverman– Keyboards, devices, effects, percussion
• Niels van Hoornblower- Saxophone, flute, electric wind instruments
• Martijn de Kleer- Guitars, drums
• Ryan Moore- Bass, drums, percussion
• Vincent Hoedt- Engineer
• Raymond Steeg (X-Ray Alley)- Engineer
• Patrick Q-Wright- guest violin and viola

Notes

from Bandcamp:
Shadow Weaver Parts 1 & 2 were recorded over the space of a year with a vault full of extra material in the can and sessions with special guests Steven Stapleton (Nurse With Wound) and former Dot Patrick Q.Paganini. There was even one impromptu session with Charles Hayward who delivered a brilliant solo show in The Dots’ home town.

This remaster was made in May 2012.

Press Release

Sometimes the SHADOW WEAVER even doubts his own existence.THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS’ twelfth album, SHADOW WEAVER, is part one of a two-part series which explores the psychic inner world of the album’s central character – any resemblance to Camus’ “Nausea” is purely unintentional. EDWARD KA-SPEL’S singular capacity to trace the mystical journey of the SHADOW WEAVER is, as always, matched perfectly by the DOTS’ mastery of psychedelic sound designs.  For over a decade the DOTS have continued to quietly evolve and reinvent themselves.

Ten years ago, they relocated from London’s East End to the liberal confines of Amsterdam where the lineup continually changes depending on each record’s particular focus. On SHADOW WEAVER the DOTS are a five piece: THE SILVERMAN plays keyboards, NIELS VAN HOORNBLOWER blows horns, MARTIJN DE KLEER plays guitar, RYAN MOORE handles the bass duties and the DOTS’ heart and spirit EDWARD KA-SPEL (The Prophet Qa-Sepel) sings and plays keyboards. Over time the DOTS have moved further away from their electronic-based origin as organic instruments knit rich yet fragile tapestry that furthers KA-SPEL’S vision of THE TERMINAL KALEIDOSCOPE and comes at a time when the band’s primary influences — Can, Faust, Neu and Meddle-era Pink Floyd — are finding a new audience of both musicians and fans.

Metropolis Records- 2018:
THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS’ classic Shadow Weaver is now presented in a 2018 Remasted & Expanded version. Reflecting the DOTS moving away from their electronic-based origin, organic instruments knit rich yet fragile tapestry throughout. Still as vital & relevant as band’s primary influences — Can, Faust, Neu & Meddle-era Pink Floyd, Shadow Weaver shows the bands mastery of psychedelic sound designs.

Review

Led by the mind and voice of Edward Ka-Spel (who released a solo record on Third Mind/Emergo earlier this year), the Dots never stagnate with one idea or one sound, and even on their 12th record, the band evolves like a tributary flowing into a river that contributes to the sea. The first half of a two-pad series, Shadow Weaver is the most traditionally instrumentated record the Dots have made, with horns, bass, guitar, etc. as the driving force pushing the music down a road of synthesizer atmospheres. There is slow but constant movement, the album drifting to ponder the pretty things as well as the horrid. Forever esoteric, the Dots deal with many misconceptions; many people classify the band as new wave or new age, but the Dots are not so easily definable. This record captures every part of psychedelia: the primitive cult power of Psychic TV, the sex of Funkadelic, the rockadelic of Can and King Crimson, and the atmospheric of Pink Floyd. Then they add the ethnic touches from the Renaissance and Middle East, softly weaving it together with an inconceivable strangeness, making for a bewitching record. – Christina Zafiris, CMJ

Lyrics

Zero Zero

We checked out all the prophecies. We studied fat philosophies. We made a graph… We chanted ooooommmmm “ommni Padhni Disney Iceman Acme leary Marx Illuminatus Christus Clarke…” We’d watch for saucers in the dark. We’d hunt lost arks; tried splitting quarks – when all we wanted was a Mark. Just a something proving something’s out there. Are you listening? No chance.

There never is a way without a why. Do we return after we die? Is life a circle? Are we hurtled headfirst into space? Will we wind up as the bunch of grapes that makes the wine… that Christ exchanged for water. Are we blood? Are we lime? Do you live? We need a sign – is anybody there? Are you listening?

And still the statues cry, the queen bee flies… we try our damndest to explain the reasons why and how and when and where… we’re getting nowhere. No doors deep inside this corridor of space and time… if space and time exist. Oh we’ll persist, if we exist. Are you listening?

Guilty man

All wired up with no-one to kick but myself in a cell and an ape with a stick who’s bigger than me and complains that he’s sick of my story. They spy on me. They spike my tea… Deny my pleas for a shower, a shave. I’m a shambles, a slave. They’re digging my grave. There’s no name on… the blame’s on. I’m guilty. Guilty man’s got loaded dice. Guilty man can’t pay the price. Guilty man, he’s got no friends. Guilty man, it never ever ends. But the voice in the wall says it’s in my head yet there’s bars on the windows. I’m tied to the bed. When the clock hammers 12 on All Sufferer’s Night, hungry deathbirds from Hell have a feast on my eyes. I roll boulders up mountains. I hang on a cross – the original sinner, I’m counting the cost. Come on, bill me! I’m guilty.

Ghosts of Unborn Children

Did you hear me crying in the night that lasts forever? Did you see me reaching out from Never Never Land? The kingdom of the blind, the damned; a bitter man; an also-ran. The ghosts of unborn children stretch their hands and clutch at nothing… Preconceived. Part of the plan that makes no sense and casts no shadow, no reflection in your mirror. Hiding right beneath your eyes… but so difficult to find, you gave up long before you started. What I’d give to be alive for just one second…

City of Needles (transcribed by Alan Ezust)

[I made my best guess for some of them – it’s open to revision]

resplendant on my bed of nails with laser light, my peep show i can see the serpent lady peeping through my perforations

cold as knives, revolving on five icepicks clockwise sliced hey, sailor, come on by and sit in my cocoon sixteen minutes on rotorblades a simulation swim-in pool bloody cracks your invention, their pursuasion, my perversion

take a light speed spin down headless hole and feel the deprivation ???? red-hot pokers in the eyes yet we guarantee you’ll all survive

you’ll meet your fear, and see it’s bigger, so much bigger than you feared you’ll need your fear, and see it’s bigger, so much bigger than you feared you’ll feed your fear, and see it’s bigger, so much bigger than you feared

Stitching Time

I shaved off my hair cos I found it amusing, I faked my despair in the beautiful ruins. I wailed at the wall, tossed a coin in the fountain – now dry as the sand on a dead man’s bones. High dive from a cloud, take a roll down a mountain. I rise in a shroud and I sleep when I’m counting. I shed my disguise when there’s nobody looking. The whites of your eyes are all mine alone. And I’m written in stone. I’m the dust on your carpet. A guest in your home because that’s where the heart is. Try and fly on the wind, though you’ll find I’m the fastest. I’m always let in, but I dine alone. Rest assured I’ll survive though I’ll thrive on your danger. I’ll arrive as your friend but I’ll leave as the stranger. I’m open for bribes, in the end I will wager you’ve nothing to buy but some time alone. The rules of the game are all mine for the making. You’ll cheat all the same but you’re mine for the taking. There’s no special favours and no-one forsaken. I live for you all, but I’ll die alone.

Twilight Hour

Slave-chained, half-naked, along for the ride. Catching flies with my eyes shut, my mouth’s open wide. But I curse as the bugs bite, I spit with the tide – like to fly to the next world – it’s just out of sight. I’m sick of the same scene, I’m tired of this road. Howling oaths at the cruel sea that creeps ’round my toes and I’m thinking of you, my regret overflows; but sleep softly my dear one cos you’ll never know. I swear by the rings round the admiral’s eyes this albatross stings like a sword in my side. And this boat’s going to sink and we’re all gonna die… But sleep softly my dear one, I’ll keep it inside.

The Key To Heaven

They recycled all the cripples; resurrected all the dead. In a technicolour sundown, they had ’em standing on their heads. Now they’re propping up our front line, but behind them is a plague. Maybe the whole shit finished months ago, but they just forgot to say… And I’m proud to say I made it – sweet 16 and I’d like to share a glass, but this rot wine turns my inside out and I can’t drink it through this mask… You remember how it started – all the liberation stuff; how the man would tip his beret – he was really one of us. My milk turned to Mecca, my face fell to the floor. I think I’ve found the key to Heaven, but I cannot find the door.

Laughing Guest

I’m out of space; I can’t see for the people. Squashed in a case where we’re all created equal. Somewhere they’re laughing, they’re planning the sequel… They come from the stars, then they all went home.

Leper Colony

Does my eye offend you? Should I roll it down the hill… Should I wear an iron mask or warn you with a bell? In quarantine, I stay unseen – I still know how to feel. And though you never touch me, I am sure nothing ever touches you. You’ve no need to defend your actions I can understand. My mirror wept “surrender”, so I threw in both my hands, before I just conceded I can’t figure in your plans. Though I’ll never touch you, you’ll be sure nothing ever touches me. I shrivel when the sun comes out, I cry beneath the moon. You’ll find me in a long lost alley, hiding in my “room”. But don’t you dare come near me cos I don’t know what I’ll do… If someone ever touched me, maybe I could just consider touching you…