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Description
Rebsie:
I wrote this song in 2007 and posted it as a rough recording. It's now
been beautifully regenerated by Daniel for my forthcoming album, Seven
Star Green.
The scene is London in 1920, and the subject is Victor Grayson, a
socialist MP who tried to expose corruption in the British government
and ended up missing, presumed murdered. Grayson discovered that
knighthoods and other national honours were being sold for cash, and
threatened to name the "monocled dandy" in the government who was
responsible. The following day he was beaten up. Undeterred, he kept
campaigning for the guilty agent to confess. Not long afterwards he
was lured into a house on the Embankment and never seen again.
Unfortunately Grayson had a serious drink problem so nobody thought
much of it when he went AWOL. It was only later that it was discovered
that the house he vanished into belonged to the monocled dandy ... who
ended up serving a two month prison sentence for selling peerages.
Daniel:
I was honoured and thrilled when Rebsie asked me if I would like to remake this song. I was able to use elements from the original recording (http://www.macjams.com/song/36016), including Rebsie's tasteful piano and wonderful vocals. My reworking strives to be faithful to the spirit of the original composition... but with some additional elements and treatments of my own. As always, the sheer strength of the vocal and the lyrical idea allows me to concentrate on playing a support role - and I hope I have done it justice here. Thanks again to Rebsie for your faith in me... and for allowing this version to live on my page.
Rebsie: vocals, lyrics, piano, composition
Daniel: guitars, bass, whistle, mix
I wrote this song in 2007 and posted it as a rough recording. It's now
been beautifully regenerated by Daniel for my forthcoming album, Seven
Star Green.
The scene is London in 1920, and the subject is Victor Grayson, a
socialist MP who tried to expose corruption in the British government
and ended up missing, presumed murdered. Grayson discovered that
knighthoods and other national honours were being sold for cash, and
threatened to name the "monocled dandy" in the government who was
responsible. The following day he was beaten up. Undeterred, he kept
campaigning for the guilty agent to confess. Not long afterwards he
was lured into a house on the Embankment and never seen again.
Unfortunately Grayson had a serious drink problem so nobody thought
much of it when he went AWOL. It was only later that it was discovered
that the house he vanished into belonged to the monocled dandy ... who
ended up serving a two month prison sentence for selling peerages.
Daniel:
I was honoured and thrilled when Rebsie asked me if I would like to remake this song. I was able to use elements from the original recording (http://www.macjams.com/song/36016), including Rebsie's tasteful piano and wonderful vocals. My reworking strives to be faithful to the spirit of the original composition... but with some additional elements and treatments of my own. As always, the sheer strength of the vocal and the lyrical idea allows me to concentrate on playing a support role - and I hope I have done it justice here. Thanks again to Rebsie for your faith in me... and for allowing this version to live on my page.
Rebsie: vocals, lyrics, piano, composition
Daniel: guitars, bass, whistle, mix
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Lyrics
Molotov Spongecake by Rebsie Fairholm
(If you want the sergeant-major
We know where he is
He's lying on the canteen floor
We saw him, we saw him
Lying on the canteen floor)
See now how a city street condemns
As the drizzle thickens on the Thames
You're counting the railings like missed chances
While the public don't give second glances
Through the haze of the wine you know where you should be
And a monocled dandy wants you round for tea
Power is what luxury affords
Ten thousand gets you in the House of Lords
Or plied with cake and a dose of tea-time violence
Served with a slice of permanent silence
Please don't take it personal my dear
It's how they deal with rebels here
The night slips down the drainpipe with the rain
And shadows brush the floorboards once again
Wheel the bedstead back over the carpet
And nothing ended here and nothing started
© 2007 Rebsie Fairholm
(If you want the sergeant-major
We know where he is
He's lying on the canteen floor
We saw him, we saw him
Lying on the canteen floor)
See now how a city street condemns
As the drizzle thickens on the Thames
You're counting the railings like missed chances
While the public don't give second glances
Through the haze of the wine you know where you should be
And a monocled dandy wants you round for tea
Power is what luxury affords
Ten thousand gets you in the House of Lords
Or plied with cake and a dose of tea-time violence
Served with a slice of permanent silence
Please don't take it personal my dear
It's how they deal with rebels here
The night slips down the drainpipe with the rain
And shadows brush the floorboards once again
Wheel the bedstead back over the carpet
And nothing ended here and nothing started
© 2007 Rebsie Fairholm
MarcusPerry
The guitar layering is haunting! Wonderfully done.. beautiful vocals, Rebsie..