We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.
/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

    PDF lyric booklet included.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    in a gatefold sleeve with 12 page lyrics booklet.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Carvery of Blight via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      £10 GBP

     

1.
You can bid for as long as the candle burns Stand still for as long as the universe turns Unfurl your memory like the spring ferns And scatter to the wind everything you've learned Pick open your mind and leave the door ajar With herbs and spices from afar   From the northeast passage and plains of Moscow There is no end to what I could get for you now From the Portobello road to Macau All that your fractured conscience will allow Pick open your mind and leave the door ajar With herbs and spices from afar   From the clippers on the run to the molasses in the rum Earl grey, salt petre, opium So lay down your weary harmonium And gaze into the cubic zirconium Pick open your mind and leave the door ajar With herbs and spices from afar     I don't sell problems only solutions So let me flip the lid of your constitution Lubricate the cogs and gears of confusion With a bone china cup and a new infusion Pick open your mind and leave the door ajar With herbs and spices from afar
2.
Will you hear of the cruel Coppinger? He came from foreign kind He was brought to us by salt water, But sure he'll be carried away by the wind. Will you hear a moment of this man Thrown at us by the storm From the waves to my fair mothers arms From wild ocean to tended lawn Do the right thing, mama, do the right thing for you Do the right thing for heaven's sake It's the right thing to do She carried him to her family's home And tended to him, but oh he spat and cursed at his fortune finding no word to say cept 'no' He dressed himself in heirlooms Took a place before the fire Sat at the head of the table As the landlord and the squire perched atop the seat of power His mandate now complete He took the good and worthy And wiped them on his feet He stocked and archived labour He hoarded up the fruits He watched the branches wither While hacked through the roots Do the right thing, mama, do the right thing for you Do the right thing for heaven's sake It's the right thing to do And when the gentry and the clergymen Come round a visiting They'll take a slice of his pie But they won't question a bloody thing Leaving with rooks beak and feathers And a bitter tasting mouth A cat's skin and head in their pocket As they scuttle off back south He'd put lock on every gate And toll on every path He'd double every rent Cut every wage in half Will he stop at nothing Will nothing stop his laugh Oh, Mama, put your man to rights Or drown him in his bath Do the right thing, mama, do the right thing for you Do the right thing for heaven's sake It's the right thing to do I repeat this story every day, But they say my voice is mute I have lived this moment a thousand times With the lie I can't refute I holler warning but they don't hear I try to sing but to no avail And weep into the silence. When I see his black ship sail To drag a harvest to the manacles Another crop of good men To grasp at once for reflected stars Before getting dragged down again Just to sell off the family silver When it's washed up on the beach Is nothing here worth saving? Is nothing beyond his reach? Do the right thing, mama, do the right thing for you Do the right thing for heaven's sake It's the right thing to do So, fine people of the mainland Listen to my plea When some tory rocks up on your coast Pray remember me Consider whether hell Has any virtue that they lack As you kick the fuckers in the arse and Send the fuckers back Do the right thing, mama, do the right thing for you Do the right thing for heaven's sake It's the right thing to do
3.
Now is not the time for irony or being clever We need a turn of tide, a change in the weather Scroll down the headlines but we never read the text Don't see what's happening but we know what's on next Miscalculating zero times two million Misdirecting taj mahal for Brighton Pavilion Lord have mercy on this mis-shapen bowl I been swallowed down an artisanal hole Can nobody round here recognise my plight? There's something in the glass we raised that dont seem quite right They're pulling down the shutters around us They're turning out the lights And they're serving up a carvery, a carvery of blight I try to be mature, I try to be civil But someone send a pox upon this curious drivel Infect the je ne sais quoir and the savoire faire How much fever can you spare? So, Empathia sympathia im memorium Stacked up in suitcases in vintage emporiums Poured out in speeches like a philanthropic hogwash Served up with pulled pork in a hand foraged brioche
4.
On VHS Or Betamax Hiding in lofts and dusty shelves Nothing wrong with it But there's no place for it A different format for a different time But you brought it home The extended trilogy Yes, you brought it home the extended trilogy of love Long deleted scenes Extended acts Surrounded by improved soundtracks To see the things I thought I'd left Long ago on a cutting room floor Until you brought it home The extended trilogy Yeah, you brought it home The remastered box set Yes, you brought it home the extended trilogy of love Warped and scratched Hard to find Overpriced on every auction site Struggled through The static cracks On long and lonesome black and white nights Until you brought it home With extensive sleeve notes You brought it home The definitive version You brought it home The extended trilogy of love
5.
I got a Triumph Dolomite sprint fifteen hundred In black and silver with grey velour seats Overheated oil slick around it And fitted matching carpet Burr walnut dahboard inside it's as Smooth as a chainsaw to ride and the Spills on the concrete garage floor didn't Cease production in 84 Born while I rode round this town on a twenty With sturmey archer three-speed it'ss got plenty But a shopper's not so hip as a chopper Still this one comes approved by ROSPA With sensible lights and crankest Cycling proficiency certificate Careful for kerbs, careful for cars Careful to stay behind handlebars But we don't get around so much these days, it seems all we do Is cruise around on streetview, spinning through the same old haunts From sussex esplanade to atlantic highway, seems all we did Was turn our racers into metal but I'd sell up for you my sweetheart my petal Hang the keys on the wall and let the dust settle The past can be scrapped like the cars but the futures all ours You must have looked quite the part in your Chevette, but What would I know we hadn't met, we hadn't Crossed in a glance on the bypass A double take when I drove past Where it all used to seem so far away Another page on the map just to Pevensey Bay Years of life seen through windows of cars looking for Someone to see past the handlebars We don't get around so much these days, it seems all we do Is cruise around on streetview, spinning through the same old haunts From sussex esplanade to atlantic highway, seems all we did Was turn our racers into metal but I'd sell up for you my sweetheart my petal Hang the keys on the wall and let the dust settle The past can be scrapped like the cars but the futures all ours ...Hold on to the wheel, put your foor on the pedal Will the love that we have be worth it's weight in metal When it's melted down, planted where we are remember when the road used to stretch so far Sen my heart past the roundabout to the bypass The past can be scrapped like the cars but the future's all ours
6.
A poor old man came riding by And we say so, and we hope so A poor old man came riding by Oh, poor old horse. Says I, "Old man, your horse will die." Says I, "Old man, your horse will die." And if he dies we'll tan his skin And if he don't we'll ride him again. For one long month I rode him hard For one long month we all rode him hard. But now your month is up, old Turk Get up, you swine, and look for work Get up you swine and look for graft While we lays on and drags ye aft He's as dead as a nail in the lamp-room door And he won't come worrying us no more We'll use the hair of his tail to sew our sails And the iron of his shoe to make deck nails We'll hoist him up to the fore yard-arm Where he won't do sailors any harm We'll drop him down with a long, long roll Where the sharks will have his body and the Devil take his soul.
7.
In the cold light of morning I packed a case I knew the direction but not the place Because the chance and the whim of a drag and a drop Could scatter us all Where there's nothing waiting behind the trees No gurt bleddy worms, no killer bees No dim lit faces hiding under hoods Just a swarm of tablets all up to no good there's always Somebody on a laptop... Who's that in there just a clicking on a mouse? Clocking up the bedrooms in every house From factory to farm to operating alone They would scatter us all So don't look to me for guidance the only advice I've got Is writ sans serif on a van that won't stop If you want to change this cruel world into something you want Better start off by choosing an appropriate font There's always.. My composting eye will still stare from the cam Long after this village forgets who I am Can the same supply that powers the fence not enlighten us all? From middle of the  earth to the ends of the sky From the terrors of the deep to the angels that fly I sit and watch and act resigned Seems that my dreams were all designed by Somebody on a laptop
8.
To cut a long story short, they said this armadillo could never sing Yeah, the crickets and the frogs and the canaries laughed when they heard about the thing That I dreamed of, that someday while the summer was green You would hear me crooning and still want to be seen I just want to sing to you and tell you how I want to commit and I say ooooh someday baby So I walked into the clinic to talk to the local medic about my concern He said I'd fix it for you but listen armadillo there's one thing that you should learn That someday you'll regret the things you ask, but there'll be no refund once this deed comes to pass You want to sing then you gotta learn to commit and I say ooooh someday baby So he plunged the knife in at my insistence, pulled my flesh out by the path of least resistance Strung out my guts and tuned them across my shell  Plucked a melody so sweet that all the wildlife in the pond Sounded hoarse and coarse when they tried to sing along Because there comes I time in life when you just got to commit And I say oooh, someday baby
9.
Be careful what you wish for son Take a note of all you've thrown down the well Put a tag on your dreams, list out every one And put them on a trestle table ready to sell Be careful with the love you gain Take note of every heart that you collect Cos sure enough when your memories are out on the slab You'll be wanting something there to dissect We all just wander round Filling in the gaps Who's gone, who's left behind all I suggest is throw your hat to the wind and call your mother back home Be careful who you pray to dear Mentally note down every secret they forgive Who's on the other end of the line I fear May just be sifting through your guilt with a sieve Be careful with the wealth that trickles Towards your second hand soul to invest In  every golden nugget unicorn tooth Cos someday all you are will be weighed and assessed We all just wander round... Take care, little one, when you step from the train Mind the gap when you're slipping in the rain Take a check on the board for the platform once  your time for departure  won't happen again Just stroll along it leisurely don't try to push in Don't take more cuttings than you've sown seeds Au revoir, auf wiedersehen Maybe the manner of your exit will outlive your deeds We all just wander round Filling in the gaps Who's gone, who's left this town behind Some day you'll drop your hat to the ground and then you'll call it a home 
10.
Not for me the burning sunrise To take my hand into the day Just the darkened damp old corner Of life's carpet is where I'll stay Not for me the sound of swallows diving cut throat at the grass Nor the evening hum of summer Just these mains and monitors But the time will come when this madness will be gone And one by one I'll try to put right all the things that I've done wrong So instead of sifting through the archives For something positive to say Dig out a smile and put your pretty little, pretty little tears away Not for me the splash of surf Or the sand between my toes Red eyes and blue headaches Is the life I must have chose Not the planetary universal cosmic wash of time it's just watching clocks and calculating discount rates on wine
11.
I finally twigged That our fixtures were rigged So I've scrapped my signature now folks, its over I misunderstood For every intention that's good There's a string that's somewhere pulled to trip it over And it seems to me it always works out pretty much the same We put on the gig to which nobody, nobody came No no no So the posters were posted The boasts were boasted And the bars were toasted all over I filled in a few forms Must have slept on a few lawns Oh but stop these tedious yarns, man, get over it And it seems to me it always works out pretty much the same We put on the gig to which nobody, nobody came No no no From Tiverton to Tenby I've lived a life of envy But the pints I spilled conspired to keep me sober So Let's raise a bitter cup To the one's who don't turn up They'll never get to hear the likes of this… And it seems to me it always works out pretty much the same We put on the gig to which nobody, nobody came No no no
12.
'How come that blood on your own coat sleeve! Little son, pray come tell me.' 'It is the blood of that skinny greyhound That traced the fox for me, That traced the fox for me.' 'Too pale, too pale for that skinny greyhound, Too pale, little son, too pale.' 'It is the blood of that old gray mare That plowed the corn for me. That plowed the corn for me.' 'Too red, too red for that old gray mare, Too red, little son, too red.' It is the blood of your youngest son, And the truth I have told to you. And the truth I have told to you.' 'Oh what, oh what, fell ye out about? Little son, pray come tell me.' 'Twas over a wand, and a withy-withy wand That never could be a tree. That never could be a tree.' 'Oh what will you do when your father comes home? Little son, pray come tell me.' 'My foot I will place on an old oakum boat And sail me across the sea. And sail me across the sea.' 'Oh what will you do with your newly wed wife? Little son, pray come tell me.' 'I'll save her the grief, and I'll save her the pain,' And take her for company. And take her for company.' 'Oh what will you do with your sweet little boy? Little son, pray come tell me.' 'I'll leave him alone for to wait and to wonder What's come of his mammy and me. What's come of his mammy and me.' 'When will you come back to your mother again? Little son, pray come tell me.' 'When the moon and the sun and the stars set together. And that will never be. And that will never be.'

credits

released May 27, 2016

Julian Gaskell - vocals, guitar, piano, accordion, violin, organ
Matthew Collington - drums
Nigel Parsons - bass, cornet, euphonium
Thomas Sharpe - banjo, vocals

With special guests:
Kelly Green - backing vocals on 'Dolomite Sprint'
Biscuit - flute on 'herbs and spices from afar'

Produced and mixed by Julian Gaskell at dBs music and Wolftone Mansions, Cornwall, with engineering assistance from Nigel Parsons and Connor Abraham

All words and music written by Juian Gaskell except for 'The murdered Brother' and 'The dead horse' which are traditional songs arranged by Julian Gaskell, and also the lyrics to the first verse of 'Cruel Coppinger' which are from unknown source.

Illustrations and design by Thomas Sharpe.

A Carvery of Sound recording.

The album was produced with the generous support of the Cornwall Music Network/Help Musicians UK SAND project and dBs Music Cornwall.

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Julian Gaskell UK

Described by angry locals as the bastard son of Waits, Strummer, Reinhardt and Rachmaninov, Julian Gaskell’s music over the last 20 years has followed a wayward path of withering agricultural-folk, klezmer accordion, overly-lyrical punk, gypsy-jazz guitar, tangos, waltzes, rhumbas and skiffled-up boogie-woogie piano. ... more

contact / help

Contact Julian Gaskell

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like Carvery of Blight, you may also like: