Greybeard
Free Downloads:
Album Samples:
Lyrics:
Links:
Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/greybeardmusic
Greybeard, that is me - I am part of University of the King. I was working on my solo album, it took too long, I got bored - its a lot harder when its just yourself...
When I grow a beard, it actually has grey bits in it, I only found that out after the name was decided. Grey hair show signs of wisdom apparently, I like that.
My real name is Rob Blakeney
I'm going to start a different solo album now, I'm quite excited about it - maybe the other bits I did previously will surface at some point - not for now anyway.
I have a great beard at the time of writing this, my wife is going to get some picture before it comes off.
UPDATE: There it is...
Free Downloads:
Album Samples:
|
They Wont Find It Here EP - FIND OUT MORE No Samples |
Lyrics:
from 'Free Download': Flight or Fright
Help me Lord I'm under attack
Greybeard: |
from 'They Wont Find It Here EP': Overturned Bins
In a room lit dimly by a lamp, the clock goes tick-tock, he’s tight inside his jim-jams and near the land of nod. He’s not really alone he has his thought for company and on the bedside table sits a cup of Darjeeling. The scene is so perfect for one to go to sleep to but there’s fireworks behind the eyes, a distraction from sleep, a side-step from the lies. A need for something real and beautiful, a chance to feel.
Something’s happening outside but on inspection there’s nothing to find except a picture, one so real and grim, let’s start thinking some more, what’s he looking for? His head is a cauldron and he’s stewing his mind, but he’s not sure what he’s cooking, and he doesn’t know quite what he’s looking at. But there’s a crusty weathered cat and some overturned bins, an old tree, he remembers how it blossoms in spring – He’s remembering.
6am, and the beeping shakes my head, shortly after ill be cooking my bread, then I’ll be dressed and sitting at my desk and making small talk about crap, and I couldn’t care less. Next thing I know I’ll be home drinking tea and watching TV, brushing my teeth to keep them pearly. Then its time to sleep, there’s not a moment to keep and its not long now until the end of the week. Its time to stand back and ask myself, what have I achieved?
As I stare through the glass, my vision goes all fuzzy and the streetlights turn to diamonds, and just for one second I’m alone and free from sad thoughts of a dull routine that’s sick and centred around money. But I do what I’m told and don’t ask questions, cos we’re trying to make money for bountiful pensions. But none of this is real, and none of it comes close to the beautiful picture that I’m spying from my house. There’s a twisted elegance in my run down road and I’m falling in love with the view from my window. |
from 'They Wont Find It Here EP': Stepping Outside
Stepping outside, its been months in captivity. Not a lot of company, just me and the TV. The bright light, its stinging my eyes and I’ve been stuck in a hole, the whole of my life. Vivid colours passing through the cornea, hitting the back and burning my retina. The fresh air is making me feel like I’m high, and I’m being cooked by the ball in the sky.
Stepping outside onto the dusty streets, with a couple of cats and a couple of kids. Flashbacks of freedom and another life, when your 4 foot tall, and living on the edge of a knife. Grazed knees remind you that your mortal and right now I feel like I’m looking through a portal. I never went to church or read the Holy Bible, but right now I can see God all around me!
I’m surrounded by grass and its all so green - that’s a funny colour to make everything – I can hear laughing and playing and singing, its almost to much to take in. These little people are nothing like zombies, eyes wide open running round carefree, void of any responsibility its easy, my body swells with jealousy.
Last night I saw a man up a lamppost, looking down on the orange façade (Beloved, 2004: ‘Its Raining Glass & Tears’) Maybe if I climbed a big old oak tree, that would increase my vision substantially. This is just the beginning of the journey, and I know that I’m only scratching the surface. Right now I have to go and that’s a pity, but I’m off to see the city. |
from 'They Wont Find It Here EP': The House
The earth is warming up, little things still excite the mind. A zombie, stationary, fixated on the ordinary. Totally fixated on nothing… no totally fixated on everything!
I can’t believe I let this stuff pass me by, unnoticed, consumed by other lies. There must be so much stuff that I looked at, but never actually, saw the reality. Shiny objects picked out with my own eyes, plastic, cheeky, disguise, absolutely useless, completely dead.
Something amazing under the bed, dusty boxes, full of tales, robotic fish, plastic scales, piece of art, photocopy, mobile, charger, remote control, radiator, soap dish, light switch, toilet brush caked in flakes of nastiness, stairs, carpet, rail, the glare of the TV pulling me in….. I give in.
Not this time no let me go, I’ve found something else that will let me grow, beauty you could never show and if you did your ratings would moan and groan. Dirty, lo-fi, smelly, crusty I’m going now don’t try and stop me. Remove the plug and remove the batteries, turn around, move back slowly. |
from 'They Wont Find It Here EP': The Journey
No green now and the day is getting darker and duller, the sun is still up there but resting behind the could cover, squeezing through like lines and tracing paper, life in greyscale and in denial. A thousand stories and maybe more, a thousand shops help relieve the sores. The big city, where the streets are paved with mould, be on your guard and don’t let it take hold.
I cant see too much right now, there’s too much smoke in the foreground and dust all around, but I do see pictures of giant looking down on me, playing with our meagreness and insecurities.
Oh my goodness! There’s porn in all the windows, for everyone to see, even little children, and there’s idols on display pushing products in our way, creating brand new fears that will go away if you simply pay. A new price on safety and a new price of happiness, but the beauty myth is just a myth, but we’re only concerned with the surface. |
from 'They Wont Find It Here EP': They Wont Find It Here
Here they are again what a stagnant picture, its time to mould their behind to the plastic furniture. So much care has been taken and so much time, to perfect this universal ergonomic design. With close attention to the pivot points and stress on the spine, custom adjustable height, tilt and recline. A truly magnificent feat of engineering, they should all be grateful but really they’re suffering. Here they are again delegated and fixated on their screens, playing solitaire whilst working like troopers in their teams, busting a hump…that’s rarely even noticed and being consumed by phoney promises and ideals that are totally unobtainable, but everybody’s hooked and digging deeper, trying hard to find what’s not there – Headless chickens, poultry fools, 9 to 5.
Letter headed paper, personalised stationary, sellotape dispensers, paper-clips and staplers, industrial strength hole punch, copiers and faxes, numbers and calculators, mouse pads and mouses. Coffee dispensers, orange cups of tea, mugs with rings at the bottom, they’ll never be clean, talk about soaps, what’s on TV, celebrities, monotony, turning cogs, apathy.
Here they are again on an empty mission, nodding like pigeons, trying to fulfil the vision of the big cheese upstairs who they don’t know anyway. But far to often the goal is power and mammon, the boss could really do with an extra million! And in the mean time all the little mice are running in their wheels, searching for something meaningful – But they won’t find it here… |
Links:
Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/greybeardmusic