Get all 30 skirted Records releases available on Bandcamp and save 60%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Goodbye, HELLo, My Daughter the Spider, Slip: A Bogan-opera-not in 3 parts, Run Peter Run, Never Mind the Threat, Here's the Distraction, Speaking in Dungs, Ba-Umf, and 22 more.
1. |
Words, words & Lies
02:36
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I don't bring to you my questions
I'm not coming to you for answers
Not reaching to have you lift me up
I'm not talking to you for comfort
I don't say this just to hear my voice
No medals for the questions
I don't seek out something special
And no expectation of an ending
So maybe i am harsh of heart
So maybe I'm a little brittle
So maybe I'm a master of mistake
quick to chastise and belittle
So maybe I'm a fraud on all fronts
So maybe what you see is true
So maybe I'm a tangle of contradiction
And contrition, and confused
I hear your willing sympathising
I hear your fragile tenderness
I hear the spinning of your thinking
and those worried doubts precipitous
I hear the subtle sabotage
I hear the self-inflicted taunts
I hear you struggle for a quick win
Vs the language without reward
What to say
When to say it
Where to say
and why
Words are words
and nothing more
unless
I tell a lie
Let's talk
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2. |
Candor & Reason in Chat
02:29
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Wanking toe rag nasty little scumbag cunt - you will reap what you sow you little weasel piss arse corrupt nancy boy liar.
Hope you're getting your vaccine shortly, that should do the trick.
Fuck you cunt.
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3. |
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It is all chatter
The blowflies buzz
That here you are
Stifled and illiterate
And cannot understand
It tells it to its mate
What it says you do not recognise
Where one word start and another ends
It sees the birds feasting,
feeding at the salt-marsh
It sees you desperate,
licking under arch
Illegal, making salt from the see
Precious precious salty resource
Infinite and flowing freely
You become a criminal
When you lick those lips
Those beds of salt and bliss
Without Sodium
The only question that you muster…
“ Where are the nightbirds?”
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4. |
Give Birth to Copper
02:03
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Heavy metal, melted special
Molten cauldron, Orange broiling
Lost wax or clay, the womb of the cast pit
The Sculptor, compositor, brought you from their fingertips
Deep Earth give birth to Copper
The soft Tin of your father, a pinch of Zinc
(and there’s various others suitors)
Aluminum, maybe Nickel, maybe...but who gives a shit
Yours could be the potential to generate sound
Bell Metal bright, a once-upon-a-moniker
Brought to the service of Kings for their remembering
Time travel is you skill and you are a messenger
Commit to the future, in all you represent
Born in the form of the likeness of another
A story-teller of Silence, an anchor of narrative
Rigid and Fixed, cast a gaze, unwaver
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5. |
How Do I Love Thee?
04:26
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One
Beware, if I show interest in your philosophy
Two
Take care, if I wrinkle my brow in sympathy
Three
Look out! If I show you due deference
Four
Watch out! If I talk to you by preference.
Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire is burning bright
Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire is burning bright
How do I love thee? How do I love thee? How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
How do I love thee? How do I love thee? How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
Five
Oh no! I seem to like you
Six
Oh woe! I lend a keen ear
Seven
Great scott! I seem to like you
Eight
Guess what?! I find you execrable!
Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire is going out
Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire is going out
How do I love thee? How do I love thee? How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
How do I love thee? How do I love thee? How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
Tell someone who is interested
Tell someone who'll keep their lunch digested
Tell someone who wants your conversation
Tell someone who doesn't regard you as an argument for compulsory sterilisation.
Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire is going out (x2)
Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire is going out (x4)
Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire, Mein Kampf-fire is going out
How do I love thee? How do I love thee? How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. (x4)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
Nil.
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6. |
Mahogany Wood
04:45
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I wish I was something, I wish I was good
I wish I was made of mahogany wood
I wish I were bigger, I wish I was tall
I wish I had houses instead of this hall
That somebody put me inside of one day
I know who he was, but he won't let me say
He looks at me sometimes and sometimes he knocks
On doorways beside me and sometimes he rocks me
To sleep in a chair for he knows that I need
Affection as much as a cut needs to bleed
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7. |
The Final Verb
01:21
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There's no culture without nature
There's no prayers without lungs
There's no hope in ever after
If forever's missing us²
Speechless
We are lost from words
Breathless with apparatus
We lose access to the verb
To lose is a verb
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8. |
Threte
04:42
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Bag a Vivian Street takeaway, take a ride in the rain
Through the town and out down, down, down towards the bay
On the road round the hills, she looks deathly still
He’s picking words like his scabs, he didn’t have that much to say
Sliding low in the strobe, her hat hid the show
And her lips hid the words, she looks towards some other place
The wheels held the road, brakes red in the glow
Turn left into the wind that hold the ocean spray
Salt on the nose, and the sweat and the mould
He left behind the bourgeois slaves to aftershave
And he rolls with his luck, typically fucked
Fingers at the wheel wishing, maybe today, he’ll be someone seen as brave
Around the longest of bends in a rusted Standard 10
Just Chuckle and Shuck and a taxidermied cat called 53
Who rides in the black on black plastic bags
Past the last of the lamps that shine on nothing here to see
Slowing down through the gears to a place known as ‘Here’
The engine heat disappears, nothing about this night is gonna be free
Chuckle coughed and then spoke, he then held out a smoke
Reading the silence as No cos she turned and looked out towards the sea
Sometimes in the dark look for lights from the shore
Of the trawlers reward of the dying beasts that are hauled up from the deep
She hums in the dark, she’d hoped to be drunk
From out of the blue she says ‘It’s a song I didn’t write’
Memory twists under breath, father nicknamed her Threte
No-one here’s gonna find out that secret tonight
‘Run Rabbit Run’ is what her dad sung
When tramping up high on McKenzie lost from sight
Where he buried his hopes on the mountain of holes
The Winter suns cold, holding hands with the uncle Jack Frost bite
Now fear scares them all, like the end of the world
She hopes’ to make it through this night to home no less alive
But she’s embarrassed by hope, it pokes like a joke
At the end of this road fishing for lightening in the night
In his wreckage called wheels, in a temporary deal
A night of awkward revels, soon it’s out of mind when far from out of sight
It generates warmth, the eventual engine restored
Back the track now like a cat and blank it out in mute rewind
And what's there to lose, really, what's there to prove
When the winds whipping through one more night time in the home of the mind
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9. |
My Songs are my Children
02:56
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Hit tri-zero with a splat
Face down in front of your flat like an unwelcome Matt
Drat, I forgat where the party at
I need a milligram of tetrahydracannibinoids STAT
Schroedinger shreiks cos I'm shredding his cat
and the teens in the mall with the asymmetrical hair think
I'm Fat with an F not Phat With a P
How One-derful Two Be Free Be-Four I
Go Cold Damn Now winter in the city
Back of my neck done frosted to rigidity
Writ a little Ditty as a plea for humidity
Got utterly rebutted by the clerical committee
On a clear day you can see clear into the air
Which is where I wound up - where the weirdos dare
Discuss Disgust! Contrast and Compare contempt
With the feeling that you're born exempt from the norm
Except for the form excessive unkempt and deformed
There are no repentence songs
We apologise just for the sake of form and
My Songs are My Children
They are grotesquely ugly
Nobody wants them
and as they grow, we grow - to hate each other
Some
Other mothers like their pretty daughters more
Or clench like the manhole on a man whore
Fraught with ill thought there ought to be a law to be fought
But the law won two one two
Czech like Dvorak Czech like Kundera
Check like mate... Mate!
A middleweight middlebrow middle class hero
With a shitlist as long as the devonian era
Item the first matters arising from the minutes
I misspent listening to your twisted bitching
The witless never witness your fitness
Though the rejects usually respect your defects
My God! Think you've killed them
The horror! The Horror!
The Sodom and Gomorrah
The fields are strewn with the recently slain
Your mama knew what she was doing when she taught
Me how to rock this way
Call the AA
It's a break down
New Zealand Hip Hop
Stop Drop and give me 20
You're in bad need of a diet and some regular exercise
Course this criticism kinda hypocritical seeing as I'm weighing in at plenty
In fact
I'm the fattest rapper since Scribe ate all the pies
But You're shit! You're Shit!
Your shit is mostly filler
You think that you are killer
But not even ow
Cos somebody told me that you had a boyfriend
But that can't be true cos you rhyme like a poo
And you smell like an armpit
And all your songs are shit
Especially the Chart Hits bop bop etc
Pre-teen angst has paid off well now I'm a lolloping loser in a hiphop hell
Play the fool just like ringing a bell
Do you think you can tell
Blue skies from beige? Cello to fade
We won't take no for an answer
We won't take yes for an answer
The only answer to everything is
Everything all at once
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10. |
You are not a Fire
05:34
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Hear outside my window, awake I second guess attack
What mad I find I’m later, laking plans with an axe
Over oceans distant, whyI sense that your with me
I swear that your the lightening, and Im the lucky tree
You are just a fire alarm.
Availed by surveillance, who’s eyes are there watching me
In the cul-de-sac of the chest clocking every beat
Expressions of a tension, I’m silenced by the throat
Watch a flashback like a car crash dark, distant and remote
You are just a fire alarm
Valleys home to falcon and skulls with eyes of prey
Shadows hope invisible, arms length from harms way
Panic pricks fleshy feels, before the Kahu and it’s claw
Message sent predictive text, barricade the door
You are just a fire alarm
Persistent irritation, keep picking at those scabs
Survive, I’m in denial, I tell myself this is bad
Sirens calling somewhere, won’t someone turn them off
No-one else can hear them, it’s just my brain going off
You are just a fire alarm
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11. |
Two TV's
03:16
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Back from the care of priests
The boxes of your children.
Field of grief in southern lands
Third in the race of nations
The armour shows its true face
It's place is not a world of peace
The river rises to second floor
The water wash away the streets
Two tvs side by side
Two tvs different lives
Two tvs chasm wide
Two tvs
Heres a home for your children
Beside the sand so white
The ocean clean and crystal blue
Every street is straight and nice
The armours there in case
The gates have guards and fence
The river, a perfect photo op
The camera snaps you at your best
Shanty homes on dust hills
The glorious site of renovation
Hardship follow dusty crops
The joy of designer innovation
The oxygen is running out
A beach side nest to plan for kids
The man he cries on bloody steps
The happy man clicks a selfie stick
He's uplifted by his choices
The other taking desperate chances
And says he has no rights
The first takes his rights for granted
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skirted Records New Zealand
Home of skirted Records, stable of DSLB, vegetable.machine.animal, mr sterile Assembly and assorted side projects
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