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1.
insomnia rules the body insomnia calls the tune spinning me like coin I used to earn look, there’s something’s moving in the dark changing forms while making love dreams and memories blur the night desire drives through stop signs images and sounds merge I writhe tastes and smells return I’m on fire insomnia writes the history insomnia flies the moon demanding something from me I can’t refuse
2.
whatever I hold starts to dissolve you’re solving problems I could never touch here in front of me I see you clearly what I can’t grasp with a pair of hands cut in half halves and halve-nots we only get half the plot I start to lose room starts to move dimensions open up under my shoes when you start to snore you’re blown to the shore I find you there tangled in my hair whatever I hold starts to dissolve you’re solving problems I could never touch
3.
we watch the dogs hump; pupils tiny points students on desks carving fertility signs pensioners regret all things unsaid athletes bend and stretch before the match   But I don’t know what sex is people seem so distant Don’t know what sex is even when we make it I don’t know what sex is don’t ask me to explain it You don’t know what sex; sometimes you don’t get it   My mind goes blank before running fixations In a loop with strange dimensions You call my name like an incantation Emotions flash from fear to ecstasy to death   (repeat ch) I tell you I love you/there’s a fear of being alone Everyone is dead/they don’t answer phones tell me you love me/we think about our dotage imagining machines/as a kind of fetish
4.
haunted by memories by beauty, people distant by everything I've done and didn’t said and shouldn’t what we do to survive what takes from us and leaves to haunt what we barely touch returns at night to make love by the closeness of your absence a sense of feeling works in parallel while you remain inscrutable I act the only way I know how
5.
Got a little place  Where we all hang out You'll stay here forever  Rent's not a lot It's around Thereabouts  Not on a map,  South of South Your money's no good, sir Take those quarters off your eyes  These ladies won't consider  Spenders your size Stick out your tongue  Let the wine flow out  Bottles open backwards, South of South Would have gotten here  A long time ago Scratching hours off  the killing floor After all I've seen  it's hard to let go When you start to fall  How far do you go Come to my place  Show's gonna start  Angels playing Hendrix  On electric harp  Big man makes an entrance  Through a trap door mouth  See what you've always known, South of south
6.
Since you’ve left
Everything’s wet I hold my breath
As the door swings open Swim to the fridge
Spaghetti on my chest Pretend to have an appetite 
Downing my portion Making it 
To the distant sofa Hyperventilating 
Cousteau drama I tell myself I’ll be rescued soon
 then I drown In the bedroom Rescued by an alarm
And a government job Police women come To rough me up Posing without a smile
For the photo Stretched out on The distant sofa
7.
floors move us hors d'oeuvres; snails 18th century chandeliers hanging from nails jewelry on mummified bodies spirits drink us in where appetites fail at the social function  strutting like lemon chicken  lost in reverberations drunk in the museum history means nothing without a kiss missing hints about mysteries of existence  we were in the stone age/expecting a renaissance  feeling this holocene’s/lacking je ne sais quoi  all those faces looking down from the ages could we go somewhere primitive
8.
see it clearly in your eyes shining deep and dark and wide get closer and realize you’re a particle in my chain of life bring me the future covered in blood give me the future raw discover what it doesn’t and does here in my sweaty arms you’re the shape of things to come premonition when I was young future what it becomes story that doesn’t stop past is dead it’s not coming back haunted defeated completely attacked present slithers on limping and crushed we give the future everything it wants

about

8 songs about memories painful and sweet.

credits

released April 19, 2020

Bob Gaulke: voice, bass, bass VI, guitar, recording/editing
Emilia Cataldo: vocals
Leon Gruenbaum: keyboards + samchillian
Hillai Govreen: clarinet, bass clarinet, backing vocals
Gil Oliveira: electronic drums + percussion
Paulo LePetit: bass on "Compulsions" and "Haunted"

Sean Flora: additional keyboards on "The Distant Sofa"; arranging, editing, bvoxes, and mixing

images courtesy Julian Brogi/Retrographique



for my mother



(Bonus Tracks)

Live in Studio:

Emilia Cataldo- Vocals
Bob Gaulke- Bass, Bass VI, Guitar, Vocals
Leon Gruenbaum- Keyboards
Hillai Govreen- Clarinet + Tenor Sax
Gil Oliveira- Drums + Percussion

Alex Nahas- Engineering + Mixing

recorded 10/23/21 at Pavlo's Studio
funding provided by NYFA CAC grant

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tags

about

Bob Gaulke

SInger/Songwriter/
Rootless cosmopolitan. I sometimes produce others.

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