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Latin Quarter: Bare Bones

by Steve Skaith

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1.
Swimming Against the Stream (Skaith/Jones) They're growing pines now in cotton soil Still making boxes for the sons of toil Still bend your back to pick your food stamps up Black coffee still comes in a tall white cup They took the signs down but it's loud and clear You want to eat? Well now, it can't be here Tell me how long the train's been gone Tell me again about the dream Tell me the story of glory hallelujah How we're swimming against the stream More talk of marching on Washington It never really seems to get things done Along the way you maybe make good friends But they can't tell us where the rainbow ends It's getting more now than just out of reach And don't go looking down at Howard Beach Tell me how long the train's been gone Tell me again about the dream Tell me the story of glory hallelujah How we're swimming against the stream Montgomery and Selma - go ask Congress 25 years, change doesn’t meant progress In Chicago you live on the south or the west side But just like the townships - try moving in outside Tell me how long the train's been gone Tell me again about the dream Tell me the story of glory hallelujah How we're swimming against the stream
2.
Bride on the Bridge (Skaith/Jones) Down at the landing stage the sign reads 'Havoline' You buy the diesel there, back in the old routine You pay up your harbour dues and then, from the anchorage All in her wedding lace You see the bride on the bridge Coat on the balustrade, bought at a fire-sale She's been married to debt for years Now she's climbing the lone guard-rail Gulls are her Mendelssohn, there’s a bouquet of foliage That no-one here is reaching for Slowly the bride on the bridge Those raising interest don't look up They have no interest in her flight Their spectrum has no bridal white Don’t leave the scene Not when money talks The whisper-mill says "Buy Brazil" If you don't mind blood on the stalks Cargo comes rolling in, containers of even size There's no rafts or floats aboard - so what if lives capsize? Trading takes no account of strangers to privilege Not if they cannot keep up their balances She's vanished, the bride on the bridge
3.
America for Beginners (Skaith/Jones) What's keeping the White House white Is it chalk, Is it fog, Is it fear? Are they staying up most of the night And sending somebody out for the beers? Is it bed-time for Bonzo? Is it time for a change? Is it flavour-free TV dinners? Oh it's a hard thing to take, when they make a mistake America for Beginners. The sound of a bell with a crack Even the swingers are swinging right The vigilantes are on the way back With prime-time 'fight the good fight'. What a start to a day Starts three times with a "K" There's no sponsored hour for sinners They'll bring back the hot seat They’re gonna turn up the heat In America for Beginners That's America for America for Beginners That's America for America for Beginners That's America for America for Beginners You wear designer jeans after dark And your shirts are sharp-cut in satin But won't you watch out for Central Park And the apartments in uptown Manhattan. It's a sign of the times You’d better stay out in front Because they've only got time for winners. Just keep living for fun, you son of a gun In America for Beginners. That's America for America for Beginners That's America for America for Beginners That's America for America for Beginners Everywhere there's stripes and stars Men in dark suits in unmarked cars Sipping Jack Daniels in Third World bars They're close to the edge. As close as you can get
4.
No Rope as Long as Time (Skaith) Old Afrikaner farmer on the terrace of his home Sits gently in his rocking chair, gazing at this land he owns. There he sees his memories and there his past There he smiles his grim smile, strokes his gun, swears he'll make it last. Someone brings the whisky, someone serves the meal Like the someone in the township, in the mine and in the field. Someone at the graveyard, someone with their tears There’s someone who can't forget the freedom lost these 100 years. Old man, you can boost about the gun that's by your bed Old man, you can tell me how you're good for all your kaffirs yet And the guns can fire, and your prisons fill And you've yards of rope for hanging still But the guns can shoot and never hit the sky And there's no rope as long as time. Mandela in the prison, Steve Biko in the ground Sharpeville and Soweto voices silenced till the end of time. Freedom don't come easy, don't come bloodless, don't come fast But in the hearts of the countless people No pass law's gonna stop it pass. Old man, you can boost about the gun that's by your bed Old man, you can tell me how you're good for all your kaffirs yet And the guns can fire, and your prisons fill And you've yards of rope for hanging still But the guns can shoot and never hit the sky And there's no rope as long as time. Sometimes he talks of reasons, economy and cause Sometimes he'll even talk of changes Though he clasps the gun and talks of law. But power ain't this old man's gift And freedom's no reform The old man chose this history And the history's stays a history wars. Old man, you can boost about the gun that's by your bed Old man, you can tell me how you're good for all your kaffirs yet And the guns can fire, and your prisons fill And you've yards of rope for hanging still But the guns can shoot and never hit the sky And there's no rope as long as time.
5.
Contention City (Skaith/Jones) We made Contention City On the last night of a storm Searching for the truth that money brings We found lodging in the shadows But they didn't promise rest As hope sank to the floor on weary wings We walked on glided splinters As we scuffed the street for work And we got by on the mission's cheapest brand Till our dreams were filled with waking And our hands with engine parts As our hearts decayed like debris in the sand Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Not even with eternity to try My home's contention city Where the master's minds are fixed On thinking of the money they can save Like a cat-walk without guard rails That sent you into space, I felt like firing shots above your grave Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Not even with eternity to try The city limits are another kind of the town Oh Lord your lambs are starving and the horses all gone down To the track where even truth gave up the ghost Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Oh they can't tear your face from my mind Not even with eternity to try
6.
The Men Below (Skaith/Jones) Album, tour, albumen - We're still picking at the shell And you know we should be glad of this living But it seems like a living hell sometimes On this playing stage we play so hard But so much harder still - is the life beneath, deep down in the seams Where your hotel nights they’re the stuff of the dreams Of the men below Imagine, having to fight To work two miles down from the air and the light And imagine, having to plead That a job that can kill you, is a job that you need Darker still the darkness, than a pale young miner's eyes Who had to see the convoy lights come shining Couldn’t close off his surprise With his one poor piece of paving, pressing hard against his palm Knowing this could be the only way he'd ever get to spend another day With the men below Imagine, having to fight To work two miles down from the air and the light And imagine, having to plead That a job that can kill you, is a job that you need A bingo king is calling It must be morning time again And every gaudy ball that gets blown out Seems like it's numbered 'number ten' While on an empty bus they tried so very hard to fill up every seat There was a method in this mad alarm Who do you think would ever do such harm To the men below? Imagine, having to fight To work two miles down from the air and the light And imagine, having to plead That a job that can kill you, is a job that you need And who knows what we all owe To the boys in the dust - to the men below? And who knows what we all owe To the boys in the dust - to the men below? And who knows what we all owe To the boys in the dust - to the men below?
7.
The Big Pool 03:51
The Big Pool (Skaith/Jones) There's a mouth on the book she is reading The lips are so red, they could almost be bleeding As red as the shirt that she has to pull on As the wind cools By the big pool She is asking advice of her mother The woman in black she could not be another As black as the look that she gives to the boys Calls them "Poor fools" By the big pool The big pool is frighteningly wide Lapping a town where the red and the black collide Sometimes the waves even have to decide The big pool stirs just outside … At the edge of the square there's a meeting The men are in black and their wave is no greeting Black as the sockets of skulls in a cellar The new ghouls By the big pool Through the dust there's a cluster of young boys Red neckerchiefs in the heat and the noise Red as the past of Emilia-Romagna By whose Rules? By the big pool The big pool is frighteningly wide Lapping a town where the red and the black collide Sometimes the waves even have to decide The big pool stirs just outside … "Tell me again", said the young girl The sun's setting red and my head's in a whirl Red is the colour that killed Aldo Moro While black uniforms lived by torture and sorrow But there's no middle ground, not now or tomorrow Still, I will choose I will choose By the big pool The big pool is frighteningly wide Lapping a town where the red and the black collide Sometimes the waves even have to decide The big pool stirs just outside …
8.
Like a Miracle (Skaith/Jones) The wine you spill, the bread you steal The European sick you heal The crown of thorns that you can't feel The table sags with you last meal … It's like a miracle A miracle we've come this far It's like a miracle Miracle and then some more … From the manger to this abattoir And the coloured glass and the piles of stones The clicking beads like dialing tones The incense scent in smokeless zones The noise, the praise, the fevered moans … It's like a miracle A miracle we've come this far It's like a miracle Miracle and then some more … From the manger to this abattoir It's miraculous that we've all lasted Deserted, starved, unfed and fasted You left us hungry and unsustained We planted grain But it just rained, it rained and it rained and it rained The unmade road and the son of Cain The fallen women raised again The ranters, ravers we call sane The pious souls of Bloemfontein It's like a miracle A miracle we've come this far It's like a miracle Miracle and then some more … From the manger to this abattoir The mitre hat, and the shepherds' crook The true believers you forsook The carnival, the bloody book The lamb hangs butchered from a hook It's like a miracle A miracle we've come this far It's like a miracle Miracle and then some more … From the manger to the abattoir
9.
Love has Gone (Skaith/Jones) You're living in a world where all the lambs are frisky And private eyes hold hold-guns that are hotter than The whisky that they drink The cops here never miss a hand-out and they Never miss a detail Super grasses sell you wholesale but they'd like to make it retail Don't you think? I saw you huddled in a parka by the fifteen furlong marker What you told me was obscured by the hooves And the cling-film clings around you Choking off all of the sound you're making Even though you scream it From the roofs Love has gone, taken a rain check Left you with no forwarding address Love has gone, sailed the evening tide The last surviving signal was distress Love has gone … You played them all the sickly crooners All the sugar "moon" and "Juners" But that waxworks never got you past first base After all of that Scorsese you should know Things don't come easy Now you're shedding bitter tears by the case Love has gone, taken a rain check Left you with no forwarding address Love has gone, sailed the evening tide The last surviving signal was distress Love has left you in Manila With your "Off the Wall" and "Thriller" And a bill that's mounting every single day And the telex and the ticker tape They tell you what you can't escape She's left you not a single thing to say Except love has gone. Love has gone, taken a rain check Left you with no forwarding address Love has gone, sailed the evening tide The last surviving signal is distress Love has gone, taken a rain check Left you with no forwarding address Love has gone, sailed the evening tide And you’ll never, ever, never cry Your way out of this mess Your love has gone.
10.
The Weatherman (Skaith/Jones) Blind Joe Death had been transfigured We’d hung the hangman’s daughter high In the rolling paper silence We thought in step like passers by From Cyfartha to Siddharta to King Arthur’s saintly knights We’d bring the warring tribes together And set a broken world to rights But hoping that Frodo got to Mordor No longer seemed appropriate As Chinese printed ‘Gotha Programmes’ Took the place of opiates From your backside to the Bogside For Upper Clyde and Soledad We carried bed sheet dyed red banners And poured in every hope that we had Jerusalem is shattered Evacuate the towers There’s a hurricane approaching The weatherman predicted showers. If A is Allende, A’s Angola And a taste of victory Getting even, getting closer With Franco down and Lisbon free From the first cut, to the last round We met and argued, marched and planned Oh who would guess we’d soon be fewer When everywhere was garage land Jerusalem is shattered Evacuate the towers There’s a hurricane approaching The weatherman predicted showers Oh, you can’t get a pin between the splinters With the broad church on its knees In these cold, bleak mid-winters The south is blue and the rest can freeze From the Medway to the west way Easy money they recite There’s some would share But all’s divided Where 'The Sun' would cast no light Jerusalem is shattered Evacuate the towers There’s a hurricane approaching The weatherman predicted showers Chain the rain dogs to the gatepost Drag your urchin kids inside Press the play, turn up the volume Hope the good Lord will provide From the Tay Bridge, to the Tamar The blame is hers, the fault is ours At least a Hurricane approaching, the weatherman predicted showers At least a Hurricane approaching, the weatherman predicted showers
11.
Wounded in Action (Jones) You kept me all night talking Equal rights for us and them Then I heard you sold the sequel rights To the head of M.G.M. Your care for your profession And in honesty and trust So how come all these party crumbs Come from England's upper crust? Empty windows, empty windows in the snow How come it's winter, winter everywhere you go? Did you think I needed, did you think I needed to be hurt? Wounded in action, were you hoping I'd desert? What was common in our background Was this game of 'Let's pretend' When the hosts swooped from Rebecca There was nothing left to mend Oh, how could you find this easy? And how could you be so hard? Should have seen those extra clauses Hidden in your party card Empty windows, empty windows in the snow How come it's winter, winter everywhere you go? Did you think I needed, did you think I needed to be hurt? Wounded in action, were you hoping I'd desert? Ah, wounded, wounded isn't dead Maybe I'm stronger now not in heart But in my head Wounded, wounded and alone I hear 'The Last Post' On a tenor saxophone Empty windows, empty windows in the snow How come it's winter, winter everywhere you go? Did you think I needed, did you think I needed to be hurt? Wounded in action, were you hoping I'd desert?

about

The idea for this album was to take some old LQ songs back to the state when they were first written and demoed: just a guitar, a voice, a bit of harmony, a touch of keyboard colour and hey presto! Obviously to do this in my bedroom on a porta-studio in the 1980’s is different to now doing it in a proper studio with Steve Jeffries producing and providing that keyboard colour. But trying to capture the spark, the heart of a song with a simple arrangement, is still the same great feeling. I think I have always enjoyed this part of being a musician more than any other.

Obviously there are changes apart from the sound quality. At times we approached the songs with a completely different energy. We changed some rhythms. In one case we changed a chorus. But one thing we haven’t changed is the lyrics. At times I wondered why I was singing songs about situations that passed many years ago. In the case of ‘No Rope as Long as Time’ the lyric is actually wrong. Apartheid was dismantled without a war. But to remember where we were, or where we thought we were, can help to remind us where we are now. What has changed and what has not.

I tried out a number of songs before settling on the ones here and then we got lucky. Becky CJ, Steve Jeffries’ daughter, had just recorded her version of the Latin Quarter song ‘Wounded in Action’. It sounds great and is exactly what we mean by ‘bare bones’ so we are very pleased to include it here and we know LQ fans will agree.

credits

released April 17, 2015

Arranged by Steve Skaith and Steve Jeffries.
Produced, Mixed and Mastered by Steve Jeffries.

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Steve Skaith London, UK

Steve Skaith was the singer and writer with the UK band Latin Quarter‚ best known for its 1986 single 'Radio Africa'.. The band made several albums and continued touring throughout Europe until 1998. - The idea for this album was to take some old LQ songs back to the state when they were first written and demoed: just a guitar, a voice, a bit of harmony, a touch of keyboard colour and hey presto! ... more

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