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We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

a winter journey

by Rob Bidder

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1.
tie a woolen string (free) 04:00
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tie a woolen string around my neck twice, and pull shoelaces tight, and soon these rusty coathangers, with bare bone moth cloth can be put out to pasture, their jagged frames joining the mouldy milks and shallow teacup leftovers..... we shower in sycamore seeds
2.
mornings mount (free) 04:57
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i'm coming over all delicate hues of allotment, with thick brown whispers of forgotten early mornings where icicles of birdsong mingle with preserves of morning mist and fragile floral sprouts from crevices of skin, under armpits and behind kneecaps, and singular shoots..... nostalgia hatches from present-tense eggshells where a moment glints and shifts along the gravy train past-tense super highway, longing to be realised. A fossil.....
3.
migrating north (free) 03:52
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4.
ghost cabinet (free) 10:54
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5.
up the leaves (free) 03:44
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a rickety sunset, blue-green, hills lit up like christmas trees, we walk arm in arm, kicking up the leaves. The leaves, our shrivelled summers, falling like memories from forgetful heads. Leaving traces like mastodons with tropical plants in their throats, kicking up the leaves. Secret traces of late night walks, beer cans become miniature shrew hotels. Turn coats inside out and death is an inevitable conclusion, kicking up the leaves.
6.
scavaging on the forest floor (free) 03:20
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Chorus: I'm scavaging on the forest floor, I'm scrabbling at some damp bark Cracking bones in silver tones and throats told off for drinking, a book of creaks and dusty moans and eyes scolded for blinking, a fanfare spread of lightning lust and shoes unfit for dances, are popping pips of seedling trust and second taken chances. Chorus Silent drifting grains of dirt from trains to the hereafter clog musty, sodden, work-worn shirts and eyeballs made of plaster. Plastic lids keep skulking kids sedate and knitting glove hair, from heads of glowing docile squid to sell at sunday boot fairs. Chorus A silver spoon of wasps and bees goes into the cake batter to sting the mouths of work-shy babes so they don't get no fatter. A weasel fur on conquered earth from messy, bloody battles, is very slowly giving birth and scaring all the cattle Chorus
7.
migrating south (free) 01:51
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about

Recorded on 4 track cassette at home in Maidstone, Kent and New Cross, London.
Backing vocals on "scavaging..." by Sophie Prosay
Accordian on "migrating south" by Jacob Farrell.
Released 2005

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released January 1, 2005

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Rob Bidder UK

Music by Rob(ert) Bidder. Intermittent chunks, every few years. Including old old music when I making music under a different name. All here for better or worse.

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