THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS
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UK LP In Phaze PHA2
- Love Puppets – [MP3]
- Wall Purges Night – [MP3]
- Lisa’s Party – [MP3]
- Arzhklahh Olgevezh! – [MP3]
- Pruumptje Kurss – [MP3]
- Waving At The Aeroplanes – [MP3]
- Hiding – [MP3]
- Dolls’ House – [MP3]
- The Palace Of Love – [MP3]
- Stoned Obituary – [MP3]
03 June 2012
NL Remastered MP3 self-released on Bandcamp
- Love Puppets
- Wall Purges Night
- Lisa’s Party
- Arzhklahh Olgevezh! / Pruumptje Kurss*
- Waving At The Aeroplanes
- Dolls’ House / The Palace Of Love*
- Stoned Obituary
* songs have been combined into one track to preserve the cross-fade.
- 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
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 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”)
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.
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.
@ 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 — (firstname.lastname@example.org)
@ [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 email@example.com (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!!!
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.
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…”
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