Gladsome Humour & Blue

by Martin Stephenson & The Daintees

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1.
There comes a time There comes a time, hen nerves they have enough There comes a time, when this life should be mine They scratch and tear, at every part of me I shall resign, there comes a time Place both these hands, in pure loneliness Im not afraid for it's all that I have known To be and fly, toward safe insane I have my reign, there comes a time There comes a time, when no more leaves can fall We must walk forth to meet the fatal night We must be there, we shall be there We're walking now, there comes a time The tears are gone, the pain is over now Leave this here carcus to which the way he'd like My soul is mine, not torn to shreds I have my reign, there ones a time Written 1985: Martin George Stephenson
2.
Slaughterman 04:01
Slaughterman I know which way you're going, but I ain't travelling your way And I do know boots are made for walking, but to me they're tools of the trade Now I won't have you push me around because Im heading for the top And no would-be Ian St Johns are gonna bring me down Im so sick of college games, packing cornflakes everyday So open the lid and put your brains back in the jar Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can Now I don't need any lectures, about your working way and wife Sitting cooped inside your factory, you couldn't think to save your life Now I won't have you interfere as Im aiming for my goal Like some hot dog seller sitting in a stand You've a nerve to criticize while you sit inside your cage Loke some Turkey paying homage to the slaughter man Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can So now you now which way Im going, have a little tact and understand And you know those boots that were made for walking Could put you on the right path! Now I won't have you push me around because Im heading for the top And no would-be Ian St Johns are gonna bring me down Im so sick of college games, packing cornflakes everyday So open the lid and put your brains back in the jar Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can Written by Martin George Stephenson 1983
3.
The Wait 03:51
The Wait You ask me to wait for you then happily close the door My head comes down as numb as hell Like a child which waits to be born The wait is a catherine wheel of ever depending remorse The wait is the power you have that's kept me hanging so long I greet you with a scolding face that shields but doesn't hide what you know I fear of your laugh within and of sharing the joke outside The wait is the choice you have of wether I glow or dim The wait is your safety valve with me at your every whim The wait is a catherine wheel of ever depending remorse The wait is the power you have that's what the darkness is for
4.
I can see 05:08
I can see I can see, my eyes are opening now I can see that you can't, bend a broken mind If only to feel the way the sun might feel As he shines, over house or not, house or not I shall cut the strings that bind me here And get up off my behind I shall rid this dark pool of misery And add up the pros and cons, pros and cons I can see clear, the moonlight man who carries me trust My gut says, move on take up this here road I will face, stand against the fears of change To feel the way a child might feel To free the shattered mind To push ahead to higher things And let the daylight in
5.
The old church is still standing Brethren come and brethren go But that old church will stand while the surrounding houses fall He caters for the business man, the homeless child any prostitute and all, within it's walls Inside they all hold hands, and love dances freely around the room Yes the old church he's much wiser than any mountain And the only way to Heaven's through his door Priests are born and priests do die But the old church he employs them for their long and useful lives To welcome in any vagabond, the pensioner who as a child chalked his name, upon it's wall And the organ and voices ring with lust, and the magic within their minds is all set free And the head that bounced three times to form a fountain Smiles on them the calm forgiving Yes the old church he's much wiser than any mountain And the only way to Heaven's through his door
6.
Even the night Even the night has turned its back As forth he walks, winds push him back Good looking man of melancholy stature Whom sobs the corner of this inn With a soaken coat from passing car Raises his glass for merry old England He cries this ones for misfortune and sorrow And this one's for wife and children Even the night has turned its back on me Even the night has turned its back Its New years eve, hailstones come down The crying man him thirty one Long gone are days of sun and warm companion Oh lonely man your coat is torn Your back is arched and eyes look far Cry into your beer, think of nothing but the river This one's for misfortune and sorrow And this one's for wife and children Even the night has turned its back on me Even the night has turned its back Written by Martin George Stephenson: 1986
7.
Wholly humble heart Every man must have his castle, and feel a hand caress his nape yes everybody needs a good friend, to give their secrets to I too am no exception, I too need to be loved And I too desire a good friend, hopefully that is you There is not time to kiss a statue, someone who purely looks the part One who transcends onto another Wholly humble heart Wholly humble heart I share a friend who is a gay boy, she tells me he is full of love Let Malcolm too be no exception, I wish him someone to love For it takes awhile to re-kindle, no matter how many you manage to fool For the first bite makes the deepest teeth marks Those wounds take a pretty long time to heal There is not time to kiss a statue, someone who purely looks the part One who transcends onto another Wholly humble heart Wholly humble heart
8.
Me & Mathew (In the greenhouse, my grandfather and me) Sing little bird sing sing Sing little bird sing sing Sing little bird I love you Let the soul ooze from your bill Fill up both my lungs with oxygen Fill both my lungs with oxygen So I can breathe in a new day Fill both my lungs with oxygen Share with me your honey buzzing Bee Share me your honey buzzing Bee Share me your honey don't you sting me At least until another year (buzzing buzzing Bee) Tell me your tale old man The tale of long long ago Of all the beauty you have witnessed Tell me that tale before you go Speak of your life old man Speak of your life grandfather Mathew Unfold your magic, sweet clasped leather palm For there lies your Baccie old man And pray make us merry barley wine Pray make us merry barley wine Pray make us merry allow us to sing Sing, sing sing sing In the sum me of seventy three In the greenhouse, my grandfather and me MS: 'What does it smell of Dave?' Gipsy Dave: 'Smells of summer Martin!'
9.
Nancy 03:46
Nancy Nancy, I thought that you meant it I have wasted my hope, Lord I wish I'd never been born The truth is I am utterly choked, debauched and lost, and vexed as a cat How can you act so numb, blinkered and huffed And as cold as the mire Nancy, I thought that you meant it I have wasted my hope, Lord I wish I'd never been born I have raised you since you were a little girl Now you leave me lost, breathless and grey And granted, I'll give you up Lifeless and chopped, and cold as the mire Nancy, how can you love, when you spit in my face My wayfaring child Nancy, I thought that you meant it I have wasted my hope, Lord I wish I'd never been born
10.
Goodbye John 03:46
Goodbye John July, it was a fruitless month Chibed molested and at the end of it a birthday Thespian narration can only give half And a rotten egg with spit on it the other In an atmosphere of salt the human clock shook to the endowing of nature The splitting up of two towns Everything is chaotic and all that is real takes a back seat That picture tells a lie, just as a song can hide a whim New pressure is added, inane facts come to the fore And the mid distorts Goodbye John, I hope your there to meet me when Im gone My old son the grass is black we both reap the same yawn From the cabbage patch boy to the thud of a street car as it moves with the wan of the morning The pedantic light shift sends waves of fear over this solitary stone An inflection has taken place, a recital of thought An effortless sketch of a childlike view of what appears to be true, untrue I hear singing again An erection starts and then the dawn once again Goodbye John, I hope your there to meet me when Im gone My old son the grass is black we both reap the same yawn
11.
I Pray 06:13
I Pray I belong common, that conclusion came After two years of kicking and fifteen years lame Strangled in a trench coat, on a hot summers day, I pray Bring on the mongrel, the fool with the hat Send your stones and your postcards, and your dancing twins books I'll just keep doing what I always did, put the fish in the sack, I pray I pray, so dark so long I pray, so dark so long I pray! Him with his ego and me with these hooks Should get together sometime and Rock this town Joke to joke, back to back, we meet Some hectic circus this is, hectic grave Let difference be difference, I swear these hours are but a waste of time And amid the hectic circus, and the hectic grave Bring on yesterday, not today I pray, so dark so long I pray, so dark so long I pray! And the wind blows everything That includes mood, name Pathetic pop stars with shades Give it blues man!

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To mark the Twitter listening party hosted by Tim Burgess on Tuesday 3rd November at 9pm we've reduced all downloads of Gladsome, Humour & Blue to just £3.50. The offer ends at midnight UK time on 10th November 2020. Thank you for your support..

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Martin xx

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If anything this album improves yet further on the qualities that marked out Martin’s and the band’s talents on the debut. Produced by Paul Samwell Smith, the opportunity to augment the songs with perfectly sympathetic strings, piano and saxophone is done quite beautifully and one is left breathless at the sheer ambition on show here.

‘One of the finest and grossly underrated singer-songwriters this country has given birth to has stood in the shadows for too long … it almost wraps its arms around you, to give you a hug from which you hope you will never be free’ – Ron Rom, Sounds, 9/4/88.

‘Stephenson builds bridges between love and hate, between cradle and grave, between folk and pop, between the past and the present’ – Len Brown, NME, 9/4/88.

Recorded at Ridge Farm studios, Rusper, Surrey
Produced by Paul Samwell Smith
Engineered by Tony Phillips
Arranged by Martin Stephenson and Mickey Watson

credits

released April 4, 1988

Martin Stephenson: Vocals & Guitar
Gary Dunn: Lead Guitar
Anthony Dunn: Bass
Paul Smith: Drums
Mickey Watson: Keyboards, Sax & string arrangements
Sherryl & Sheila Parker: Backing vocals
Pandit Dinesh: Percussion
Anne Stephenson: Violin
Virginia Astley: Flute & female backing vocal (Even the night)

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Martin Stephenson Invergordon, UK

Born Durham 27th July 1961

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