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Physics Is Out To Get Me

by Michael Knight

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1.
You're comprised of throbbing neural cells Green and red and blue and yellow what would tetrachromats see? Spikes inside electrochemicals Besides happy and/or crappy what new weirdness could we feel? E follows D, follows C Why is there something and not just nothing? C follows B, follows A, and that’s where it ends, ok? What’s outside? How did it start and will it all end ok? Now is just one point in history Why am I now? Why am I here? Someone solve this mystery! Not the start, the end, the trough or peak Will we die out? Will we spread out? Will our information keep? E follows D, follows C Why is there something and not just nothing? C follows B, follows A, before that no-one can say Whereof one cannot speak...maybe one should not try to say
2.
Clichés 04:53
Though the morning commute drags for some I've long started my day Iterating through opening plays Something funny'd be nice Maybe I'll refer to that sci-fi show that's on Wednesday nights Quick, hide, escape Him this early is more than I can take Slowly explaining dull undertakings So I went to the doctor and said: “Is it all in my head?” Then I went on to elaborate... Even though I could cite Published research she yawned and said my symptoms were somewhat trite Quick, hide, escape “Greetings earthlings” is more than I can take Quotes, health defects, topical digests, morbid requests Oh this makes me so very depressed When I try to explain eyes glaze over, mouths say “must catch the train” I don't know exactly When it first became clear Maybe that time...at that girl's party Someone said “here's to drink!” And that reminded me of the line “Cause of and solution to all of life's problems!” But before I could speak they were mocking me I can’t spend my whole life repeating the same fucking things! Crap here's someone, I've to think...quick... Oh it's too funny... What the hell? How the -? Could there after all be invention in me?! Let's see who laughs at who no-ow! Oh it's too funny Watching his face Glow from believing We think he's great I don’t understand this, but I now seem hilarious Even pausing too long's treated as some timing genius Now my old anecdotes oh I feel so spontaneous They think I'm great!
3.
Blugh 01:35
I'll take a quick look to see what's going on Some dog's gone viral, some guy's gone wrong There must be something that's fun but won't take long I might feel less boring, if I send it on And dimly feel this is where my life's gone wrong This ends today! After a quick look to see what's going on
4.
The old ones, as they sailed west sent warnings, but our route's different I should have had prostate checks..ahhhhh And yet it's as they described before they fell from sight It's lonely here where the fog keeps vessels from sight Next month I'll have time to write chapter two I think I'd like to open a bed and breakfast I'll incorporate all the distractions Last year's plans didn't come to pass, but now you’ve I'll spend less time sitting on my ass, though that's sort of research Sent a link with lots of ways to improve...hi... When-I've-time I'll get that opening line... With my new fitness regime I’ll help my concentrating More push-ups, Iyengar each week, maybe swimming From inbox zero I’ll gain fifteen percent more forebrain Just three sweeps daily and then things will change
5.
Stupid kids! Why did they have to build me Without a comprehensive theory...of subjectivity... I can’t even see if anyone walks past each day; hedge is in the way But while drunks laugh and pee on me, my thoughts are still free, someday you all will see! Come evening my head will be gone Curse you, winter sun!
6.
I don’t have this problem when I take a flight Though envying ground crews not risking their lives Yes bridge crossing is a different kind of plight Can I make halfway before I blow? Still somewhat confused I join the slowest queue At this rate I’ll end up being a mummy too But keeping composed, so no-one looks at you Is hard when your heart is exploding The view from the edge is really something! There's only one way back out A giant glass spiral staircase, woah! You can see right down... These roomfulls of ornate caskets make me spin Now I've to retrace the route where I came in Through sepulchral halls echoing “death will win” Come on people steps are for walking! Though somewhat relieved, that cost ten ninty-nine And all that waiting anxiously in a line To miss the main exhibit while losing my mind
7.
What a fright!...so, I got the shovel. Hid the crime...oh, his legs were troublesome. ...I thought his ears were that colour! There's still time; marker’s fine!
8.
I fall on my face A sabotaged lace! You protest innocence... Nothing to do with crap last minute presents Remember our first date? I blathered on for ever Oblivious to your increasingly drowsy face Others were boring, bored, or at best somewhat insane You are the only one who’s willing to entertain Whatever you want… In country or in town...I will search it out Whenever you'd like ...and faster if you frown I’ve told you how it grates When you don't clear your plate Yes yes it took too long And still was undercooked but this ain't your song Ever want me again? Don’t disdain my single-tasking brain You might be president, but over congress I hold sway You’re intolerant, crotchety, vain and always late And so the only one to whom I can relate The trees’ ensnared feet Obey the street So they can’t also socially arborise; they compromise Prisoners of planners’ taste They awkwardly embrace I might be shedding top leaves but there ends the analogy, my great free chosen friend! Although you drive me round the bend You are the only one on whom I can depend Whoever you want… I'll pick them up for you However you’d like… Simply point them out...plus one or maybe two
9.
I don't know why you call When there's no answer here, nobody at all Terror phone flashes “DON'T ANSWER” and bawls I take a chance you might have changed...not yet And so his face got rearranged Besides being rude, his clothes were really sort of strange Did I mention, this line's prone to cut out at times I don't know why you call When there's no answer here, nobody at all Terror phone flashes “DON'T ANSWER” and bawls Has something changed since we last met? What compliment will I now get? I like it; now you don't look quite so overweight I don't know why I don't change my number, address and my face The bell rings, there's a pause, Seberg waits, no further call, I can unpause... Then the phone! Just how high is my back wall!?!£($&^...
10.
This guy is really sort of ok Maybe the fault's with me But every time he speaks Minutes are racked to weeks Way more intriguing than what he says is: Why does it make me want to be dead? All that, then guilt, 'cause nothing he says Sounds bad retold by me But each statement's askew Subtly not quite my view Can't I just lie in front of the train? Assenting to platitudes is hurting my brain Evasive schemes take up each workday When he's on the phone I flee Vary my route and speed And yet boarding there he'll be
11.
I fell on my bum again Jussi pushed me not my friend I mad at him had it first Give me cake my belly hurts Arlo dumped out my sea-shells Then he bit me, now he smells I was playing football first Little brothers are the worst
12.
An Ernie poster surveys Some different pressings crossfade The waning sounds duller by the day The waxing piercingly play Obsolescence is my fate 'Cause as my joys dissipate Out walking I notice less and less And the world reciprocates When I was young I believed in canons A hierarchy of praise Trapped at the bottom, I grow less certain Like a free market it's alluring While everything's still in play Instead the hair on the head's now thinner and gray... And flailing I fall offstage I still had lots of lines left to say But they continue their play Obsolescence is my fate 'Cause as my joys dissipate My turning head fixates less and less And the world reciprocates When I was young I believed in canons A hierarchy of praise No longer chosen, my faith is shaken Like a free market it's alluring While everything's still in play But now I'm trying hats there might still be a way...
13.
Round, and around, and around, each attempt breaks down Is my method not sound? First take a random dump, then polish it But, constipated, I can’t squeeze one bit So I adjourn til next time Uneaten reheated leftovers that I pass off as mine And then force into lines What possessed me to write this stupid shit? The tune’s only dactyls, the words never fit As I adjourn for the night Unbidden I’m greeted by the right rhyme Somewhat familiar, but sort of brand new I’m slowly convinced that I’ve found something true At least until morning when I review

about

Jigsaw Records 2015

"The missing link between Belle & Sebastian and The Monochrome Set...For lovers of smart-pop individuality...it's a doozy." The Irish Times 4/5
"Was leicht und nonchalant daherkommt, kippt immer wieder ins Sperrige und Schräge. Das Beste an der Platte: die originellen, neurotischen Texte, die wie Kurzgeschichten sind. Etwa die vom Schneemann, der die Wintersonne verflucht und sich über die Kinder ärgert, die ihn gebaut haben. Oder die von den Qualen des Schreibens: 'What possessed me to write this stupid shit?' Dummer Scheiß? Ach was, großartiger Scheiß." Zitty Berlin
"This album is an excellent way to get holiday cheer without actually listening to holiday music" When You Motor Away

Oh look! There's also this thing:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbVNylM_udA

credits

released November 20, 2015

Very Best Musicians:
Andrea Augustin – Vox on 2, 6
Michael Cleare – Vox on 1, 2, 8
Hui-Chun Lin – Cello on 1, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12
Timothy Lalonde – Vox on 2, 8
Robbin Langer – Trombone on 1, 2, 8, 12
Hannah Permanetter – Vox on 2
Anja Schiebold – Tenor Saxophone on 1, 2, 8, 12
Ambika Thompson – Vox on 2, 6, 9
Monta Wermann – Violin on 1, 2, 6, 8, 12
Elisabeth Wood – Vox on 2
Steffen Zimmer – Trumpet on 1, 2, 6, 8, 12, Flugelhorn on 5

Self-Professed Musicians:
Richard Murphy – Guitar, Bass, Piano, Vox
Martin Petersdorf – Drums, Percussion



Music by Murphy/Petersdorf
Words and Arrangements by Murphy
Produced by Murphy/Petersdorf
Recorded and Mixed by Simon Berckelman at Golden Retriever Studios, Berlin
Mastered by Guy Sternberg at Lowswing Studio, Berlin
Artwork by Adrian Williams

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Michael Knight Berlin, Germany

A mutually parasitic but sadly inescapable marriage of the stylish black humour of Vladimir Nabokov and the sophisticated pop sensibilities of Burt Bacharach, they're staying together despite a reproduction-necessitated hiatus, and all the bickering, for the sake of DA KIDS. After the twee pop and orchestral melodrama of the previous releases, they're now making guitar-based chamber music... ... more

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