1. |
Yes Sir I Can Boogie
04:45
|
|||
2. |
Cold And The Crackle
05:00
|
|||
... this is a fine country to be in ...
Under the white sky the black limbs of trees,
The cold and the crackle and nothing felt right
Oh this quiet like stillness the mission begun,
They were waiting around for the wasting.
And in the warm nights he would fly from the skies,
By day he just stared at the closing in,
And she just lives there like a fallen down tree,
She says there are places she’d much rather be.
He said, 'you know sometimes there seems to be
More of the sky and not so much of me...
more of the sky, much less of me...'
|
||||
3. |
Plog
03:13
|
|||
4. |
The Marriage Is A Mess
03:47
|
|||
When there's nothing much to work for,
you have to say that life gets stale
Well there's forty miles of suburbs,
where everything's for sale
From the roads to the houses we sleep behind,
and the talk behind the fence
Where the need to reproduce ourselves,
grows stronger everyday
And the conversation's awkward,
when there's little left to say
With all this believing in the family,
that keeps the father strong
And the men are loud and foolish,
tell of how they've done it on their own
And how they won't take the push no more,
but it seems they always do
And the marriage is a mess
And she practices neatness,
and reads pink books of blue romance
She keeps neat clipped lawns and roses,
and the bruises on her face
Whilst the banks put up bright posters,
scream we've got money to give away
Well it's as easy as that right here,
but the bank man is a bastard
And the marriage is a mess,
and they hardly talk any more
|
||||
5. |
Brother Nobert
05:10
|
|||
6. |
Little King
02:27
|
|||
Oh suitcases full of blue puppets, save me from the plight
of Little King. No, no uncle, I think it's milk. What what.
I'm still eating beans. Hold it there with the cake jester,
here comes the cream, here comes the cream, Noddy,
Noddy, Noddy. Kill the clock, I'm hearing those I'm
hearing those bells, Noddy. Slap me uncle, you gotta slap
me uncle, I'm hearing bells, you got to bring me to my
feet uncle, my little feet, yeah, I'm doing good and I can
do it again, heh, ooh, ooh, slap me uncle bring me to my little
Feet, what's that rushes through me body thus? Why
It's blood rejoicing in the heart. Heck I've got blood in me
Body, why I'm a woman too, Little King, Little King, Little
King, I'm a woman too. Like Shakespeare I'm a man, just
Like Flipper, just like Rinny-Tinny, Rinny-Tinny. Little King.
Little King. Shot the moon with me broom, hey Micky take
That penny from the sky; the rains falling down just like
Little children racing back to mother.
|
||||
7. |
Sing Sing
04:51
|
|||
8. |
Clay
05:30
|
|||
Down near the mines,
the forests of rain,
the ones who live there just wait,
they're hiding away,
they're fighting out there.
|
||||
9. |
Kerry's Green
03:58
|
|||
It's Eleanor Talbot down by Kerry's Green,
Sings to her house by the sea
And the purple tea cosy she wears on her head
It has holes for her ears and why not cos she's happy
The smell of the fibro, the memories of Northcote,
Tied up in a bag in the shed on the floor,
And sometimes she dances the dog to the rhumba
And then sleeps cos she's happy
It's enough for her just to be there,
That here was the place where she stopped
And she says to herself you're a nutty old fruitcake
But dear to my heart all the same
And she's happy as can be, and she's happy by the sea
Cos she lives by Kerry's Green, and she's happy there
|
||||
10. |
Under Roof, Under Tree
05:34
|
|||
11. |
Sitting
03:17
|
|||
12. |
Going Up The Country
04:24
|
|||
I'm going up the country, don't you want to go
I'm going up the country, hey don't you want to go
Well I'm going to some place but where, I just don't know
I'm going up the country, water tastes like wine
I'm going up the country, water tastes like wine
Well I've been away for so long
Well we can jump in the water, and stay drunk all the time
I'm going up the country, water tastes like wine
Well I've been away for so long
For such a long, long time.
|
Not Drowning, Waving Melbourne, Australia
NDW's music was haunting, evocative, brooding, sensuous and a million other words that excite people who type for a living. In record stores, you could usually find NDW filed under ambient or art-rock, ill-fitting labels if ever there were. Though they were often minimalist, they never made background music. Arty by comparison to other acts of the era, but they knocked out some glorious pop tunes. ... more
Streaming and Download help
Not Drowning, Waving recommends:
If you like Not Drowning, Waving, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp