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by James Wood

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about

Songs, sketches and improvs recorded summer 2012 in the wonderfully named EMS 6, 7 & 8 studios at the University of Huddersfield and at home.

Inspired by and about the country of Ghana (and african music in general), wild horn solos, consumerism, the lives of jazz musicians and why no-body writes songs with a boy's name in the title.

credits

released June 22, 2012

Don't eat Nestle!

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about

James Wood Huddersfield, UK

no hipsters no fascists no bullshit no not here not on my parade I just want to know why there ain't no songs about boys names. just football and freedom for palestine and jazz cause everybody's welcome to sit on the step outside in the garden with a cup of tea and half a fag and chat about the universe and this and that.
A Love Supreme. Don't eat Nestle. A message to the world and the haterz.
... more

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Track Name: Song for Kwame Nkrumah (Akwaaba)
Akwaaba. (= Welcome)

I will sing for you Kwame Nkrumah
I will sing for you (nation of hope)

Nation of joy
Nation together
Nation united
Nation of hope

I will sing for you

Akwaaba.
Track Name: What Would Bird Do?
What Would Bird Do?

A way of dealing with illegitimate concern,
A question, once asked, that yields little
Except a yearning for times past.

Jazz, up in the Summertime, when the living was easy.
Problems dismissed like the chords on Bird's solos.
Devil May Care,
Dewey Square,
An Exclamation,
Ah-Lieu-Cha!

Yet the question still remains.
Nothing's going your way.
No, I don't wanna get high today.
Now isn't the time for John Coltrane or Lady Day.

Now's the time. Now's the time.
A Bird awaits.

Raindrops fall.
April, in Paris, in May.
A bench, a park.
Sat down, the President and Lady Day.
A Nightingale singing in the dark,
Weaving through the rhythm, a whistle and a spark.
Is that not Bird?
Unmistakeable to have heard.
A light relief, the answer to the question.

What Would Bird do?

No doubt play, and eat and smoke.
But waiting in the raindrop park
The Be-bop bird is alive,
A lark.
Or a dove or swan.
Either way the answer's not done.

What Would Bird do?

Bird lives it's true,
But I'm not yet through.
The scales are blue,
Billie's here,
I'm still you.

What Would Bird Do?
Track Name: Dave
There aren't enough songs about boys names so...
This one's for you Dave.
You might not be my best friend until the end
But you're a nice guy and I thought it was about time...

That someone wrote a song about a boy's name so...
This one's for you Dave!
You're a lovely bloke, you're all a girl could hope for
And it's about time that this was recognised yeah?

Oh, Dave!
I'd love ya like a brother would
If we were brothers but,
Dave (sometimes I call you David)
We used to play in the park together
We used to play no matter the weather, oh Dave!

I just want you to know I respect all decisions you make in your life and Dave!
I just want you to know you can be my friend until the very end.
If you want me to?

So. Dave. I just wanted to say. It's gonna be a beautiful day today. Because...
Track Name: Song for the Black Stars
(bum-bum-bum-bum-Black Stars!)

The hope of the nation rests on your shoulders.
What are you going to do Asamoah?

The hope, the dreams.
People coming in the street, when you score a goal you can hear them scream.
Watcha gonna do Asamoah?

Come on Black Stars!

(Ahhh, he's hit the bar!)
Track Name: Commodify Me/Marry Me
Come on, Commodify Me.
Cut me into tiny pieces and share me on the stock market.
Sell me. Use me.
Package my thoughts, market them as entertainment and abuse me.
SELL ADVERTISING SPACE ON MY FOREHEAD
(sell advertising space on my right arm)

Noise is a blunt instrument.
And I feel the burn (high)

I dedicate my body to advertisement science.
Psychology of the mind.
PR PR PR PR pr pr pr pr
Stick a logo on my sweater, and my trousers and my socks and my pants.
SELL ADVERTISING SPACE ON MY FOREHEAD
(sell advertising space on my left foot. and my knees)

Come on, commodify me.


I don't live life by material things, if I had one wish I'd bring Jo Good back to 6music.
Next Stop Soweto!


I'll take you for a ride Zoe
" " Sophie
" " Jody
" "

Let me show you the sights.
The Geneva convention on women's(?) rights
This life, next life, even in past lives
You can be my wife.
Even if I'm not that keen on [the idea of] dressing in white, it's still a great time to be alive.
Track Name: Where Were You In '94?
Where Were You In '94?

When I think of '94,
I think of what I saw on the documentary on TV.
I think of you Stanley[ville].
I think of the rows and rows, and the rows and the rows.

What did it say on your ID?
Did they mark your name with a H or a T?
Did they measure your skull?

I think of war,
Not of playgrounds and playtime and milk and teething and nursery school.

Where are you now Stanley?
Where are you now?
Did you change your name?
Did they change your race?
Are you up in the mountains with Dian, or down here with your fellow man?
Where are you now Stanley?

(So many lost)
Track Name: Lemonade
Don't drink coke drink lemonade
Demand all workers get a fair wage
Don't eat nestle, and boycott disney
For supporting Israeli hypocrisy yeah!

So don't drink coke drink lemonade
There's still slave labour in this modern age
So don't wear nike, and boycott primark
and stay away from your local wal-mart yeah!

Oh, lemonade!
It's lovely and sweet and citrus-y yeah?
You can even make it yourself if you please yeah?
The best drink by miles, that's the word on the street yeah?
And you're not propping up some fat-cat's limousine fleet yeah?

So...
Track Name: Song for KASHTS
I know I don't call you as much as I should do.
But it's not because I don't love you,
And it's not because I forgot.

I know I never finished writing those letters.
But it's not because I don't miss you,
And it's not that I don't care.

This is a song for KASHTS.
For general arts and ceramic pots, and bare-foot football in the rain.

This is a song for KASHTS.
For fresh cocoa beans and fufu, and George's house, down by the lake. [it was actually a pond but for the sake of rhyme].

This is a song for KASHTS.
For worn out sandals and Djembes, and the yellow school bus, driving down through the dusty plains. Picking criminals up on the way. [true story].

I know I never said good-bye,
But it's not because I don't love you,
It's cause I meant it.
It's cause I mean it.