Tag: embra

  • Eric Wheelbarrow III – The Suns of Albert

    Eric Wheelbarrow the Third is the absurd tale of an entitled young man who sees the truth of things after imbibing magic mushrooms during a game of golf.

    As far as I can remember (with a memory like a polka dot shirt), the idea was to do a toytown-esque E.P, which became the extraordinary release “Gypsy Brae” (one person even commented on it). For non-Burgers, Gypsy Brae is a grassy hill, along the promenade from Silverknowes to Granton, where there was a well kent fare in north Embra every year. To go to it, felt a lot like being at the fare that Ringo works at in the Michael Apted film – Stardust. I’m not sure if Gypsy Brae fare still happens.

    My songwriting contribution to Gypsy Brae – Eric Wheelbarrow III, is a dive into 60s-inspired pop-art. It’s recorded in mono, uses treble heavy guitars, old Italian organs, free-bass, seagulls, close harmonies, and even a baroque psychedelic motif!

    The lyrics are insightful, a tad bolshie, but poetically playful too. Much of the song was written on the loo – bright acoustics, comfy seat, liberating. It came together very quickly, ah hem, apart from the introduction and instrumental. In those bits, I’m trying to de-construct and rebuild the A chord on the guitar, to loosen it up, to get free. I do this on Rays In The Garden as well, going up the fretboard in an open E and down in an expansive elementary A. There’s something magical about working out melodic patterns like this. Once you’ve unlocked the path, you’re bending and suspending time, your fingers bubbling away with their own unique energy. It’s aural voodoo. Boogie is like that – John Lee Hooker, a master. This song isn’t boogie though, it’s Kinksy, PsyPop Kink.

    A little more background.

    Ronnie, an old friend now passed, bless him, whilst merrily pissed outside The Guildford Arms, grunted,

    “Aye, Eric Wheelbarrow the Third!”.

    I can’t remember what we were talking about. I’m sure someone said Eric Wheelbarrow the Third is a character from an Irn Bru advert of yore. It’s beyond my ken, but the name stuck.

    The internet/AI/mess knows owt about it, other than spewing out idiotic machine-code answers.

    That makes it a hidden gem, pregnant with possibility.

    Ultimately, The Suns of Albert are earthy, electric folksters, out there on the cusp.

    Over to Picasso – Computers are useless, they only give you answers.

    The Old Guitarist - Pablo Picasso
    The Old Guitarist – Pablo Picasso (late 1903–early 1904)

    Fore!

    Chords: A, G, D, G, A, F, C, D, G, A, F, C, E, Esus

    Lyrics

    Eric Wheelbarrow the Third
    Emotionally green
    Socks and sweater lemon curd

    Eric Wheelbarrow the Third
    Son of the nouveau riche
    A microfiche absurd

    Daddy’s a merchant
    His seed good stock
    Down the club
    He shows off everything he’s got
    Must be professional
    A handshake firm, but
    Best be careful what you yearn – for(e)

    Eric Wheelbarrow the Third
    Mind of a schoolboy
    Pornographic connoisseur
    Eric Wheelbarrow the Third
    Hoists the legion’s eagle
    Loves the regal Old Bird

    At the 19th
    He braves the dare
    Swallows Mother Nature’s
    Mirrored silverware
    Deep in his bunker
    A holy One
    Score infinite
    As he drives – into the sun

    Instrumental

    Eric Wheelbarrow the Third
    Soaring like an albatross
    On Calvados – my word

    Eric Wheelbarrow the Third
    Happy in the out-of-bounds
    Now found beyond the herd.

    Song dedicated to Ronald Andrew Macfarlane (RIP).

    Liquid Loops by The Joshua Light Show:
    The Joshua Light Show – Liquid Loops (1969)

    Supporting music is life support:

    Buy 24-bit/44.1kHz .WAV of Eric Wheelbarrow III for £2 on Bandcamp

    Written, produced and recorded by The Suns Of Albert in a Seafield flat on a Mac Book Pro (2012), an Mbox 2 Pro A/D, and Adobe Audition CS6.

  • Randolph Cliff – The Suns of Albert

    A sorrowful contemplation on the pursuit and arc of love.

    Randolph Cliff

    Randolph Cliff is a corner block of flats overlooking the Water of Leith on the western edge of Edinburgh’s New Town. If you peer over the heightened parapet of the Dean Bridge there’s a sitting statue of a troubled-looking sailor staring up at you from one of the gardens. I took this as inspiration for the track. I read somewhere that he and another 160 people committed suicide, jumping from the bridge. That’s why they heightened it and put spikes on top, in the 1800s.

    The song mentions a few other places around Edinburgh – St Bernard’s Well on the Water of Leith, St Margaret’s Loch in Holyrood Park, and The Citadel in Leith. Landscapes I’d been in love in.

    The recording is really quite beautiful. The guitars play to one another, there’s no bass, and just a single bass drum beat, that switches to the off-beat on the choruses. Lots of space. Lace-like strings appear from the ether, as do a koto, and a sombre ukulele in the closing few bars. Occasional finger bells resonate higher frequencies at start, middle and end.

    Listen to Randolph Cliff above

    For the main vocal we patched the mic through the effects unit of an old portable studio. It transformed the feel, akin to pressing a sound-like John Lennon button. I seem to have pulled my soul out of the depths for this vocal. I was deeply in love when I wrote it, and channelling 80s Hall and Oates in parts. For once it feels authentic. Underneath, Steve talks a breathy, bassy drone which adds more intensity to the piece.

    I think we really bagged this one.

    The finger-picked chords are C⁶, Fmaj⁷, B♭, Dm⁷, G, Am.

    Lyrics

    Oh Randolph Cliff
    Perched upon the edge of town
    Prince of the abyss, below

    Oh Randolph, Randolph
    The river flows beneath the bridge
    No matter where you are it is
    Forever changing
    A mirror and a thousand million songs

    She drank from St Bernard’s Well
    A potion profound
    Hand in hand ’round St Margaret’s Loch
    He thought he was found

    Oh Randolph Cliff
    Contemplating separation
    Cutting himself adrift, again

    Randolph
    Will you ever reach the shore
    Heed the word for more than
    Just a day or two?

    In a garden ‘neath The Citadel
    Their love grew in the sun
    Midst the dark of a New Year’s Day
    The weight was a tonne

    The universe is nested
    In fingertips
    That touch the earth, the air
    The sunlight in her hair

    She drank from St Bernard’s Well
    A potion profound
    Hand in hand ’round St Margaret’s Loch
    He thought he had found her


    Supporting music is life support:

    Buy 24-bit/44.1kHz .WAV of Randolph Cliff for £2 on Bandcamp

    Written, produced and recorded by The Suns Of Albert in a Seafield flat on a Mac Book Pro (2012), an Mbox 2 Pro A/D, and Adobe Audition CS6.