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Low Watt; High Gain

by American Fado

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My sparkling personality allows me to go everywhere alone. There's no question. It's all just a pretty case. I'll face the music comin' out of me like a bad shit or great sex. Remember that? Let's stop and think. Do you think? Do you really think? Do you? Do you think my sparkling personality makes me better than you? It's all trust. Really trust. That's the issue. My sparkling personality comes between all of us. It's a lens, a focal point, a shield. It's really light. What's your's feel like? Tell me, I'd like to know if style really runs the universe. Because that's what my sparkling personality tells me. My sparkling personality comes between all of us. It's a lens, a focal point, a shield. It's really light. What's your's feel like? Tell me, I'd like to know if style really does run the universe. Because that's what my sparkling personality tells me.
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Curtains 02:09
All I really remember was the way the light crossed Whatever room we were in, empty bottles, curtains, and dust Every couple of hours you're back in my head again No gold in you copper dust girl Since ontology recapitulates phylogeny It must be real interesting at the edge of the Great Sea Time was the ocean and the hills made me feel free Now I stand hemmed by the mountains, my back to the sea Like that Captain, I say, "This far. no further!" There's no freedom made by you to fit me I am that you can never be. I stand in the mountain sun and reconsecrate my body.
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telenarcosis 03:28
www.telenarcosis.com All those lovely words and images were co-opt. Everything was caged, Like the ticket steward But the lessons, They were designed To inspire And disrupt, To invoke and corrupt, To dispel the grey, Neo-hypnotic gloom, To eat away the thick, Lethargic skin. In fact, we must admit We're all framed, And manipulated, Desensitized and Watered down, Heavy, Like an unscrupulous Dealer's heavy swag, Made to enrich The sleepy masses, Even stimulate A twitch or two, Sometimes, All the while Keeping the soon To be gelded Young ones ignorant Of their ironic slavery. Perfectly intact, Yet ever so slightly Enriched By the subtle intoxication Of the Sad Martyred Poet Of the Beekeepers, The Unwilling Hierophant Of their Hamster Wheel, Sixty cycles per second, And humming their secret doom. Humming their secret doom.
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LA: Under the Guise of No-Thing It’s always there Oh, sometimes I get very good At indifference toward it And at others become acutely, Poignantly aware The near perfect, placid, calm That willingness to wait Almost Lamaic Tibetan In lines And on the roadways In gleaming machines And even partly masked Among the foliage And gas heaters In anticipation of the next stroke From the palette; on the palate Or the eye Or hand Or anywhere Pleasure enters That Only In L A Becomes A long stroke of the leg As you speed shift her away Home It’s always there Oh, sometimes I get very good At indifference toward it And at others become acutely aware The next stroke From the palette On the palate Or the eye Or the hand Man Anywhere Everywhere Pleasure enters Anywhere Everywhere The long stroke of the leg The long stroke Of the leg The long stroke La La La La La
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A Study 02:38
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High Summer 02:40
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Lords of All We See All this time you may have forgotten We are the Lords of All We See It’s just complex ‘cuz it’s so simple We are the Lords of All We See There is no day; there is no night We are the Lords of All We See Suck it in: we’ll call you black We are the Lords of All We See Keep it out: we’ll call you white We are the Lords of All We See She is a mountain goat; He is a lonely sun We are the Lords of All We See Now I’m standin’ here feel like a loaded gun We are the Lords of All We See Bathe in the moonlight and call it the Sun We are the Lords of All We See I whisper and it comes out screamin’ We are the Lords of All We See Behind the veil that doesn’t hide me We are the Lords of All We See I use this veil like a child at play We are the Lords of All We See We are the Lords, we are the Lords of, we are the Lords of All We See We are the Lords, we are the Lords of, we are the Lords of All We See We are the Lords, we are the Lords of, we are the Lords of All We See All this time you may have forgotten We are the Lords of All We See

about

American Fado's third album.

There are screens everywhere. Our Everyman uses his hands. As he moves, a limp can be seen to return from time to time. He builds a guitar and hardly stops to tune it as he hits record.

He finds a fence really a Chariot and a shield a Way In.

He keeps bees until he finds a Key.

Study begins.

credits

released September 5, 2014

All songs composed by Charles Claymore

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all rights reserved

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about

American Fado Los Angeles, California

Underground space country garage punk. Yeah, that's what we said.
Or how about you just listen and tell us what we sound like?

We like that plan best.

American Fado is:


Charles Claymore: Guitar; Bass; Synth; Baritone Guitar; Vocals;
Ustad Morelock: Guitar; Baritone Guitar;
Brian Redfern: electronica, bass, oud
Dave Miech: keys, backing vocals, percussion

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