Get all 46 fiffdimension releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Poems & Lyrics (in the Scotch dialect) (1856), Quietism (2024), Electric (yang) / Acoustic (yin) - 2CD compilation 1998-2023, electric (yang), acoustic (yin), Live 2023, Gamelan Dimensi Kelima (Indonesia, 2014), Elevate (2023), and 38 more.
Excludes subscriber-only releases.
1. |
|
|||
|
I say 'I love you', you say you gotta go
You got a date with some guy I don't know
Then it turns out it's my brother you're screwing
I don't know know what you're doing to my head
I don't need you to grind me down
I'd like to teach the world to sing discordant out of key
Against the city noises and the brainwashing TV
The fascist pop stations and the government lies
Superior is just inferior in disguise
I don't need you to grind me down
Spank me O God for I have sinned
But trying to talk to you is like pissing in the wind
You never listen to what I say or sing
You have the power but I can say anything
I don't need you to grind me down
'cause I can do it myself
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
Everything you want you can make it come true
With a steel fist & an iron shoe
Smash all dreams like a pane of glass
See a shooting star, let it go past
Counterrevolutionary, shitting on the sky
No remorse in yr television eye
Engineered greatness and make thoughts out of plastic
Prepackaged happiness, bright & fantastic
Fairystomper, Fairystomper, open yr mind
Full moon up there, wasting its time
|
||||
3. |
Banana Wizard
03:07
|
|
||
|
A fleet-footed moment gives itself up to grief
I fall into a puddle with you underneath
& now I'm living underwater & living overfed
Coffee & smoke coming out of my head
I see you silhouetted in the door
I see your reflection in the floor
I see your shadow on the wall
But I don't see you at all
It's OK, this is the day
Keep on moving in that sunny kind of way
Could it be I'm getting high?
No-one's in charge & no-one knows what to do
They don't want your soul; money will do
& it's a hook-staggered world filled full of regrets
As the government's putting you deeper in debt
I saw the frown on the clown as he was taken down
Moving the show to the pictures all around
& it's a hook-staggered world which just might
Only be a bile phantom in the alcoholic night
It's OK, this is the day
Keep on moving in that sunny kind of way
Could it be I'm getting high?
|
||||
4. |
|
|||
5. |
||||
6. |
|
|||
7. |
|
|||
|
...the end, round the bend, come today another friend. Nothing shall be there to tell what I said or die in a bed & the loneliness crowd grows very loud. Back to the sea, it waits for me, a negative on water like any other matter. All is said & all is done, the flow continues, the song is sung. Myself I ignore.
|
||||
8. |
Cafes in Conversation
03:26
|
|
||
|
Well the coconut tree it fall to perfection leaving all of us awake into this splendid castle with a grove metal share. Bury the fortune tellers, hello to the trees. Take out the garbage & add salt.
Cafes in conversation, ambience folly. The coat-tails tied in coffee beans & the bellows in fireplace water & shoes hung out to dry. A crackling a smoke to slow-mounting fortune, the ice to the new is a sprinkling of seeds. The beginning is gone & the going beginning.
Wait collapse in small-mounting fire-tongue, the nothing not new of the past not an echo, moving back wide to refocus identity, a shame & a clank for the down in the dungeon, coffee beans there too, & hitherto canyon that shuffles in back, leaving in focus, consensual guilt.
Hard to tell what illusion defines all her contours when sadness of metal is lost in the canyon to beat tunnel down & refocus the lack of a camera to gleam & escape early warning, oh woe woe I miss all my forests.
Hard to take announcers & put him to bed with sadness a pillow to smother his head. Harder still for saltshaker monuments to praise all the fountains for Spanish guitar-players effusive in company when here sits a wall that evades all questions & company follows or not not at all then.
Too close getting harder, now aware false impressions are blocked off constantly, & marred prostitution a phone call away. Truth-telling harder now this is the end; back again someday. Mumbling back into focus, the light is like glass & the world is its liquid. Solidity wallows & senses are drowning in glass crystal fountains, scotch on the rocks.
A song for his head & this is contemptible with orange marshmallow covers lie down from the ceiling, & roses of chocolate to bury the gloom not the room a full moon; how did you guess?
Forced mysticism & fuzzy perceptions, a mounting of distance, an awareness of warning, speak not at all - & then temperament follows an incense of sky & plant pigmentation, a wariness fall; seasons in households lie late in their bloom. Wakefulness follows a dream dying high.
|
||||
9. |
||||
10. |
Sleep/Grease
02:57
|
|||
11. |
|
|||
|
...Hanging hand with the were times. Which hand were times were hands hanging these? Hand a hand with one’s own hand hanging worth and though plainness need in the interference a scurrying place. Hanging were to those hanging faith in the her hand. Hanging place. Loose fits the hand with the hand hanging were times hopeless hide this. Hide bliss. Win all the were times. Report to back yard.
Hand a hand-wringing hand in the win all the were times. Times win the hanging. Times win the were. The were which were having hand in the in on them were times when the wheel which was won was won and within the were wages hanging side in the in on him hand within hand on the wages. Signing blank cheque. Writing time on the wins (WINZ). Tried in the hand on the hanging in wind, tired of creatures’ spleen with vagueness pause surreptitious scrupulous longing.
Win a glancing at watch. Win a tired end to long night. Hide and withheld. Whose surreptitious hands hanging wind? Winded wounded whining on wine. Aloof and withheld. Spell him on held. In a spell made him held. He will willing wound and awake with a wind wound and wide. Wound in on hound. And a hand in on wand. Hand the hand within hand. Hand the wound to the win and on wine. Wound the hand wind with a wine. Hand in a loose to the perseverance signature balancing hand upon wine. Win the wound of the world. Wield a promising sign, hang the hand to sad wine. Wound the in on him hand hanging vagueness. Hanging hand upon head. Hanging head in the were times. Hand the head hanging wound of the were times with a stylized perception persuasion perseverance, hand the hanging on hand held the head. Held the head to the in on vagueness. And a scurry for contempt. Contempt the hoop hanging wideness. Hang the hoop upon head hand to smuggle them up.
Hang the hoop hanging were times. Hoop the hand on the were times. Hang the hananging hand with the were times. Which hand were times were hands hanging these? Hand a hand with one’s own hand hanging worth and though plainness need in the interference a scurrying place. Hanging were to those hanging faith in the her hand. Hanging place. Loose fits the hand with the hand hanging were times hopeless hide this. Hide bliss. Win all the were times. Report to back yard.
Hand a hand-wringing hand in the win all the were times. Times win the hanging. Times win the were. The were which were having hand in the in on them were times when the wheel which was won was won and within the were wages hanging side in the in on him hand within hand on the wages. Signing blank cheque. Writing time on the wins. Tried in the hand on the hanging in wind, tired of creatures’ spleen with vagueness pause surreptitious scrupulous longing.
Win a glancing at watch. Win a tired end to long night. Hide and withheld. Whose surreptitious hands hanging wind? Winded wounded whining on wine. Aloof and withheld. Spell him on held. In a spell made him held. He will willing wound and awake with a wind wound and wide. Wound in on hound. And a hand in on wand. Hand the hand within hand. Hand the wound to the win and on wine. Wound the hand wind with a wine. Hand in a loose to the perseverance signature balancing hand upon wine. Win the wound of the world. Wield a promising sign, hang the hand to sad wine. Wound the in on him hand hanging vagueness. Hanging hand upon head. Hanging head in the were times. Hand the head hanging wound of the were times with a stylized perception persuasion perseverance, hand the hanging on hand held the head. Held the head to the in on vagueness. And a scurry for contempt. Contempt the hoop hanging wideness. Hang the hoop upon head hand to smuggle them up.
Hang the hoop hanging were times. Hoop the hand on the were times. Hang the hand on the were times. See them all on to march. See them all on hand hiding the straight lace and biding one’s time. And hiding one’s time...
|
||||
12. |
|
|||
13. |
||||
14. |
Mouth of the Caveman
03:26
|
|
||
|
That's a nice chord innit? A very nice chord.
I liked it a lot; it was the worst chord I've ever seen.
Leave aside the poet-strangled engineer ear-sprain
nothing get paid for until it gets dark
over the ocean shine down the sun, into the kingdom
where I plan to vent forth unreason, & here I lay guilt
A black claw of diamond cloud perfume dissolves me into background noise; high above the street I sail, dusty mountains, ravens wail; the face crawls, full of seashells & vermin; bring in beauty, it's your duty - I'm too shy to even say hi; we need to enact a paradigm shift, so we get really stoned & we get really pissed; visionaries exchange pleasantaries, cartoon characters sing the blues; the city's blinkered blinking enclose our loud albino progress; out all night for an all-out night, wasted in the wings with baby-food music, I am dirty & mocking & I stumble at chance, I am sly superficial with a sideways glance, grey haired with freedom & information blindness.
The wild running hunger was begged & profound to a hunger of stone-envious wood running progress, mental gnome church gotten home re-gotten captured, re-growing sideburns, a tunnel vision fits, glances that waver; camera pointed at the sun, crappy turntable blasting out beats - & we have questions to ask regarding its value - ahead smiling face prostrated in shower, another drunken figure kneeling abased before toilet & 15-year-old girl passed out on the floor; we took to the t.v with a baseball bat, & went into town with a shopping trolley & liquor... but we never met Elvis, not even that night.
|
||||
15. |
||||
16. |
Metaphysical #3
03:19
|
|||
17. |
|
|||
18. |
O Henry Ending
03:29
|
|
||
|
O Henry, falling leaves & branches talk a worried sad refrain,
your eyes half tilt, your brain half mast
to tie the fond anonymous bond beyond your aching shelter lying walls
that fall to fall & raise the days, museum haze
O Henry for the season, falling autumn rains reigns its claim to fame,
your head a handsome sleeping sound,
your ship not sleeping in the sand when run aground, you stall tall story disco library, white with dust & wiped & fussed;
open even over time does not mind to go in blind
O Henry, unforeseen your odds are even now to me
I don't see how you never lied, you never cried;
your melancholic putrefaction changed its dirt & you were left unhurt -
& you went waltzing through the door, to be O Henry ending nevermore,
nevermore
|
||||
fiffdimension Featherston, New Zealand
Outsider music from Aotearoa NZ and beyond, by Dave Edwards and collaborators (from 1856 to 2024).
Spans acoustic & electric noise, rock, folk, spoken word, postpunk, free jazz, gamelan, lo fi, electronica, & ethnomusicology.
fiffdimension recommends:
Waiting for the Drummer
by dAdApApA
The mutant cousin of 'The Marion Flow' - also produced by Paul Winstanley - http://fiffdimension.com/tag/paul-winstanley - at the same sessions but with very different results.
go to album
hill road in winter
by the troubled times
First new release of 2023, psych-rock trio from Masterton, NZ, with Antony Milton and David Heath
go to album
Nat da Hatt collaborated on https://fiffdimension.bandcamp.com/album/neon-train-landscapes and brought a funky psychedelic guitar groove to our sound - here's his solo masterpiece.
go to albumIf you like fiffdimension, you may also like:
Rhythmic post-punk from Horseface with a pop-forward sense of melody and the open-ended expressionistic impulses of DIY.
go to album
Boulder blues
by staraya derevnya
Marvelous experimental music from this Tel Aviv musician that fuses outré noise with almost folk-like arrangements.
go to album
Dance-ready cold-wave meets brutalist punk on this collection of gothed-out synth-pop tunes.
go to album
