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.
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1. |
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HERE’S a health to my cronies where’er they reside, Whether this side or that o’ yon big rowin’ tide ; I care na what country or kingdom they claim, Be they English or Irish to me it’s the same, Gif their hearts to a glass o’ gude whisky incline, I instantly class them as “Cronies o’ mine.”
Awa wi’ yon nabob purse-proud o’ his gear, Neither he nor his wealth hae charms for us here; Awa wi’ yon fop wi’ his clear headed cane, A bit trip through the warld, it’s use may explain; But welcome my cronies wherever ye be, To join in this gude reekin’ bumper wi’ me.
A fig for the wealth that this warld can gie, We naething brought here, sae we’ve naething to lea; The farmer wi’ ousen an’ acres galore, Has his crosses just now, an’ may sune count on more; Then come here, my cronies, let’s kick awa care, As lang’s we’ve a groat or a shilling to spare.
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AULD Satan , when ye first gae through Your regions dark and awful , A sma ' bit favour I would crave , Gif ye but think it lawful .
Gie my respects to Souter Will , The first time ye forgather ; And tell him that I'm wae to think Him lost for a ’ thegither .
For ministers and others say He straught to you was taken ; ' Cause he the creed o ' Scotland's kirk Had mony a day forsaken .
Gif that be true , as it may be , Though faith I'm misbelieving , You ne'er met wi ' a slier coof , Since ye took to deceiving
. But use him well , and gif ye can , Oh gie ' im a bit promotion ; O ' a ' your buts and a ' your bens He ' shortly hae a notion .
But keep him aye beneath your thumb , And work him smooth and sweetly ; Or o'er your head he'll tak your trade , And dam your luck completely ,
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3. |
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OH wha hasna heard 0’ the artist ca’ed Blain, For mony a portrait in Coldstream he’s taen; Be they young, be they auld, be they gentle or semple, He hurries them afi' without wrinkle or pimple.
And yet he’s aye true, and never beguiles, For the auld hae their frowns and the young has their smiles ; And some even think that he deals wi’ Auld Nicky, He speaks aye so cunning, so pithy, and tricky.
The auld wives they run wi’ braids i’ their hair, And the lasses wi’ breaches and breastknots are there, And the gentry on horseback wait their turn at the door, For he maks nae distinction ’tween wealthy and poor.
Ane seated before him he looks for a wee, Her beauty, her smiles, and her features to see, Sync he. cunningly shuts himsel’ up i’ the dark, Sae as name may disclose his magical wark.
An” what he does there nae body can tell, Gif he deals wi‘ the Devil, he kens best himsel’; But ae thing is true, and nae ane dare doubt it, That, for taking a likeness, he’s nae lang about it.
His wide-spreading fame a’ the country alarms, And the wabsters 0’ Hawick hae flown to their armsf‘ And a strong opposition they swear to maintain ’Gainst the king 0’ the artists, our ain Jamie Blain.
But, ye knights of the shuttle, I bid you beware, Lest our lang-headed callant for you lay a snare : He’ll harass you in front, an’ assail you behind, And ye’ll hae to gie up what ye canna defend.
Then success to you, Jamie, an’ lang may ye shine, And lang may the Muses around you entwine ; May joy and contentment be yours while on earth, And may peace seal your eyes in the moments of death.
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4. |
Banana Wizard
03:14
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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 by?
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 by?
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5. |
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I woke up sober it was useless deceiving
that midnight walls of the room were not breathing,
cancelled eyes & cancelled mind,
bored with things that I've never tried
Chairs to tie the revolution down
as the tidal throbbing becomes the only sound
forced in upon the silent seas
listening to the pretty pleas
Climbing up infinity's winding stair,
blood drying in your hair -
a million miles down the barrel of a gun
words sneak through a slave to the pen
The corpulence of leisure
seeps through the house & cannot be measured
& I'll be wandering through, filthy with rain,
& the hole in my pocket lets out a mile of change
Growing & crawling into massive mediocrity, the stars upon your side
I'd rain destruction on the hit parade
I'd choreograph death & make them afraid
but everything fades, like it always must,
leaving only hunger & lust in the dust
Surrounded by prostitutes with neon makeup,
stealing from a beggar's cup
I cannot hold them off with a pocket full of rhymes
it's just like a schoolboy writing lines
& when the hall of opposites finish wearing each other down
what else is left but the tidal throbbing sound?
You're a dancer out of control but you will survive
& be burning well past midnight, it's OK to be alive
But there are those who will teach you to loathe & fear the sun
& chairs to tie the revolution down
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6. |
The Hurricane Wrangle
06:55
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Neon mumble turnaround making you go in naked
as your brain, strangely profound, is coping not to fake it;
the unthinkable happened, with perfect precision,
chains swinging down through the door
The ladies in waiting ungratefully unveiled,
and to for the perfect place of a nun;
loose in the country Antarctic I take,
in no way beating on the same drum
Still not ready for the wedding circus ring -
you're a communist & I'm transcribing your conspiracy;
a barrel-house king was keeping the phrase,
& the man wants her to give him her days
A knowing retort could be praise for our chatter,
& seekingly for the sickly cold old sun;
barren regained into punishment antiques -
you're a blackguard, & I'm a poltroon
Your eyes in fire & are knowingly obscene
& your head winds up sitting in a mausoleum
you were alone in outdated brimstone & fire
& your sins are not seven,
but are knowingly beginned all night
Lying deadly with no comment, the hero bursts upon the scene -
but he tries to leave unnoticed when the opponent takes the queen;
quit in yoke to the power of a runaway car;
equate here & now with desire gets you not very far
You were taken wanderer, there among clouds,
your hand branded names, & it wakes up & smiles;
seek silent groan when you're hollering loud,
& your feet have not walked a thousand miles
A level where beginners with their mutilated faces
can speak & be alone, wherein they're constantly invaders,
& I speak of time & training & of climbing up the levels,
cancel proceedings, waking up in smiles
Each evening I sit at home & complain;
each evening a punishment adored;
each evening & watch the autumn wane;
the best of evenings, growing more & more bored
Your eyes in fire & are knowlingly obscene
& your head winds up sitting in a mausoleum
you were alone in outdated brimstone & fire
& your sins were not seven,
but knowingly begin sometimes
Truth parades its pantheon, & is constantly outdated,
& a man walks the pavement, not thinking he will make it;
the judgement of justice thinking suspicious;
if he thinks he ties me up he will never admit it
Soon the list of time outdates the reason why it's born,
awkwardly chained to reason & malice,
a time for the teasing makes a banned awful season
who eats up unthinkable words retaining matches
Jeffrey fucked up, but he keeps on going strong;
inwardly creeping in, gleefully unknown;
I think of sarcasm, & it seemed so profound
to be stylishly & gracefully bound
Soon the list of time outdates the reason why it's born,
awkwardly chained to reason & malice;
you await the reason, & for a while retain
the memory of the crown of thorns
Your eyes in panic & in pleasure are obscene
while your head winds up sitting in the movie screen;
you were alone in back-dated billowing doubt,
& your sins are not seven
but are knowingly outstretched once more
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7. |
Ilhas Atlânticas
04:38
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8. |
Fairystomper
03:57
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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
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9. |
Tony Was Here
03:29
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caught between the thief & his guile
& the receptionist's smile
a wire fence of sound
pounds around with its chains unbound
I leave you like a bad joke
as the sun rises at midnight's stroke
burning the light of the night in your eye
as the bleak cars sail by
she bleeds like lightning & will never think twice
taking all chances, throwing the dice
I'm flickering in the walls for want of advice
Tony was here, but they put him on ice
My monkey is flying
lying in the sighing crying drying island
standing in your rain
the shame is the same again & again
when i was the clown
i saw down frowns looking around
found a disease to infect from neglect
as chess pieces began to defect
she bleeds like lightning & will never think twice
taking all chances, throwing the dice
I'm flickering in the walls for want of advice
Tony was here, but they put him on ice
& now we're up to date
but I still cannot articulate
that if looks could kills
yours'd only give me a thrill
she bleeds like lightning & will never think twice
taking all chances, throwing the dice
I'm flickering in the walls for want of advice
Tony was here, but they put him on ice
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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.
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