Chea Sacred Texts and Microwaves

"Cheap Sacred Texts and Microwaves" (2014) lyrics

Cheap Sacred Texts and Microwaves

Sage of the hills above the township
gently watches the world below
Perched on a rock where wind blows lightly
whisks his hair in the pale moon's glow

Songs of a simpler yesterday
stream from his peaceful soul
soothing eternal lull
heart, mind and body whole

Swarms fill the streets in loud confusion
Swindlers beckon us to consume
Trite entertainment, thrills and comfort
spirits locked in a plastic tomb

Cheap sacred texts and microwaves
opulence casting stones
broken malnourished bones
forsaken mothers moan

Striking is the fact that those said to be sane
live unbridled madness, no one to restrain them,
while our greatest prophets wind up being shamed
backed into dark corners far from where we need them

Sanctified illusion, sinister design
Maniacs rejoice in vanity
licensed to provoke calamity
happy to destroy humanity


Stay True

Blurred haze of grey and blue, free-falling through the sky
Vague recollections why, vast waters stretch below

I plunge into the sea, and leave the world behind
sink deep in frozen time, no longer feel the pain

Cast off to churning tides, jet-emerald seas below
womb-like I drift and flow, dampened aquatic tones

Glittering light descends, fish scales reflect the moon
suddenly yearn to move, must reach the surface soon

I gasp the cold night air, warm tears begin to cry
The numbness then subsides, I'm valiantly alive
to face life's discontent anew

Wide awake, yet still I dream
of love without impurity
though life can serve up tragedy so cruel
I'll take beatings child, but won't stop trying
when solitude has got me blind
I'll weather on, find courage and stay true.


On and On

I don't need a place to hide
to make believe it's all alright, to be deceived
But will grows weak and wilts away
A peaceful self is led astray

I think I'll run. Running on and on
Live inside my song in this search for soul
I'll keep running

Back down a one-way track inside my mind
Oh the fear it blinds my worried eyes,
for I alone would dig my grave
and I'd sit in it when I could be saved

By running on. Running on and on
Live inside my song in this search for soul
I'll keep running on

Everyday I write a page of half-felt words
and the pages turn, and the pages burn
I can't stand all this writing lies
It's burning me to my demise

I think I'll run. Running on and on
Live inside my song in this search for soul
I'll keep running on


Rotten Man

I'm a rotten man, I often sleep past noon
And I work from home, teach music in my room
My breakfast lasts 'bout half the day
Have fun for free, I'm super gay
and staunching-ly refuse to work for tools

I like to spend my time in child-like dreams
Kaleidoscopic color swirls and cotton candy seas
where tie dye wearing hippo clans
form psychedelic bluegrass bands
and pink and purple skies are lit with glee

The status quo's a snarky, spiteful shrew
It preaches fear and ignorance, it grimaces and broods
It surely hates this rotten man
Knocks at my door but can't get in
I watch it through the keyhole as it cries
with twinkle-toed flamingos in my eyes


Rock of Ages

I heard the Rock of Ages lives way up in the sky
Well, I'd carry Him a letter if only I could fly
I'm sure He'd like to help out
down here on earth below
I'm sure He'd kindly help us to calm our earthly woe

I've walked this wild world over, turned up so many a stone
Can't find a single reason why such fools are in control
They're often quick to mention, just have to let you know
that they love the Rock of Ages
and with Him they share control

The day the Rock of Ages heard how they used His name
He packed up his belongings
and He jumped an old freight train
Went way up o’er the mountains, dissolved beyond the sky
forever fled from those who'd said
that He had been their guide

To know the Rock of Ages means not to drawl a sword
nor wield a knife, nor cause great strife, nor subjugate the poor
You hush your wicked mouths now, you shameful, nasty men
It's finally time, the meek shall rise
and have what's due to them
And never more will this ole world be ruled by you again


A Message for the Tokyo Electric Power Company

Atomic plant with risks foreseen
You willingly ignored the pleas
Precautions could prevent disease
but money first was your decree

Oh my my, oh Hell yes
It surely seems you've made a mess
And now the victims in distress
must dry their weeping eyes

You said that everything was fine
until that quake and wave arrived
Your plant blew up, I wonder why
Your promises were dirty lies

Oh my my, oh Hell yes
It surely seems you've made a mess
And now the victims in distress
must dry their weeping eyes

You censor those who state the facts
and to the ill you say “relax”
But kids are having heart attacks
You watch 'em die and turn your backs

Oh my my, oh Hell yes
It surely seems you've made a mess
And now the victims in distress
must dry their weeping eyes

Well, I'll pitch a wish into the well
and hope the world gets saved from Hell
Hell, that's a pitch that's hard to sell
when leaders claim that all is well

Oh my my, oh Hell yes
It surely seems they've made a mess
Let's go upstairs and take a rest
and dry our weeping eyes


Like a Child at Night

Shadows seep up from the earth
Through the blood-stained soil they rise
Victims hidden from our eyes
Maybe we'll go out like them

Science gave the world a twist
Atomic plumes cast toxic mist
The power hungry clinch their fists
The future seems a dark abyss
Beneath our heels the shadows sigh… silent cries

“There's nothing wrong” is what they say
They wage the wars but go unscathed
Such greedy bastards in control
Our rights to live are bought and sold
What's going on? This just ain't right

What's going on in here? I'm scared
Come and pat me on my head
Come and tuck me in my bed
and take away my dread, and tell me it's alright
like a child at night


I Haven't Got a Clue

Sit and obey, just follow these directions
Rough drafts and then corrections
Just pump out what is due
The standard education, the must-learn proclamation
The shit we're told is true

Day by day lap up indoctrination
Revere some silly nation
Await some leader's cue
Identities created, automatons fed hatred
the likes of me and you

My oh my, the wicked witch is winning
and still you'll find us grinning
amused by what we do
We're on a one-way road to nowhere
Don't ask me when we'll get there
I haven't got a clue


Dee Dee Dee

I thought it would be brave
to throw my life away
not live another day
just run into my grave

A dark cloud was my mind
depressed all of the time
about such silly things
that I forgot to sing

My hope was born again
I put faith in my friends
and knew they'd care for me
and by my side would be

Our world in troubled times
so direly desires
a nice and peaceful phase
So let our voices raise


Port City Streets

I bike alone at midnight along port city streets
As humid breezes greet me, my Buenos Aires sleeps

Your smooth brown skin and summer sweat
drip easy through my mind

The brilliance of your body
lying next to mine

Chea Sacred Texts and Microwaves

Club del Disco: Cheap sacred texts and microwaves

Un músico poeta del interior de los Estados Unidos y un contrabajista argentino terminaron consolidando un poderoso dúo que no se parece a nada ni a nadie. Lejos ya de las raíces folk y con muchos recursos tímbricos armaron esta fantástica obra, para viajar ...

Hace tres años ya presentamos, en Folklores del Mundo, el primer disco de Joe Troop, un joven trotamundos de paso por la Argentina, que se llamó, precisamente, A traveler’s sketches (Los bocetos de un viajero), y en el que se anunciaba with Diego Sánchez. Ahora ya firman Joe Troop & Diego Sánchez, en un claro cambio de status, de acompañante a par. Y si bien está claro que la impronta poética sigue estando en manos de este raro crooner folk que es Joe, quien pone la voz, se percibe que la participación tanto en la composición -que tiene aún mucho de improvisación recordada- como en los arreglos es mucho más pareja.

Joe Troop & Diego Sánchez: Joe Troop toca violín, banjo y canta muy bien y (obviamente) con perfecta pronunciación americana. Diego Sánchez toca el contrabajo, pizzicato o con arco. Es increíble la densidad que pueden lograr con sus dos instrumentos y la voz de Joe: tal es así que no se extraña una percusión, gracias al contrabajo que hace toda la base y que se mueve con enorme flexibilidad por todo su registro, desde lo más grave hasta notables agudos, siempre cantando.

La poesía de Joe, existencial, descriptiva, irónica, con muchos tonos diferentes según la canción o el clima que quiera lograr, tiene un acompañamiento musical siempre adecuado. La cajita en la que viene el disco trae todas las letras (en inglés) y sabemos que está en preparación una muy cuidada traducción para hacer más accesible la obra al público hispanoparlante.

Se nota que Troop creció escuchando toda la poderosa tradición del folk estadounidense; es imposible para nosotros, sudamericanos, no asociarlo con lo más conocido de ese estilo que llegó a nuestras costas gracias a la difusión que tuvieron desde los años '60 Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel y otros artistas del mainstream, pero lo cierto es que podría decirse que tanto aquellos como este artista se nutrieron de las mismas fuentes. Claro que hay mucho más que folk o country blues bien asimilado: hay una fuerte vocación de experimentación y la música tiene un tono muy original, digamos una pátina muy porteña (sin tener del tango ningún rasgo rítmico o melódico, salvo en el track 10 que es instrumental, hay algo tanguero en muchas de estas canciones).

El salto que dio la música del disco anterior, de un Troop que parecía estar de paso a este que lo encuentra en dúo y con un proyecto artístico más sólido, es el mismo que lo lleva de cierto pintoresquismo que lo ubicó en la línea de Folklores del Mundo, a este trabajo de dupla compositiva más cerca de la canción contemporánea que de los escenarios folk.

Los recursos tímbricos de los que hablábamos al principio no pasan solo por la variedad de los tres instrumentos de cuerda, del pizzicato o de las cuerdas frotadas, sino por el uso de golpes en la caja, armónicos, y otros efectos. Hay que decir que tanto el nivel de la producción, a cargo de Fabián Martin, como el audio general del disco están por encima del promedio, captando con mucha fidelidad cada inflexión de la voz de Joe o de los instrumentos del dúo.

Un notable trabajo, que da para muchas e incansables escuchas. Creemos estar ante un hito y por lo tanto nos hace muy felices colaborar para que Cheap sacred texts and microwaves (Textos sagrados baratos y microondas) llegue a oídos del público socio del Club.

Producido por Fabián Martin