space weirdo

02 ALBUMS

Creative Commons license © 2006-15, Space Weirdo.
INTRO

Weird encounters between alien intelligences, all of them cunning, all of them with hidden agendas…

  • encounters between weak minds and broadcast media;
  • encounters between man and machine;
  • encounters with doom or a fatal contingency;
  • love encounters at nanometric scale;
  • encounters with glory aboard sardine cans;
  • unearthly encounters with improbable ectoplasms;
  • [ encounters with / estrangement from ] our most beloved muse;
  • and also the day in which there were no encounters;

… as were told with metaphoric vehemence by Space Weirdo.

REALITY CHECK
Have you met any talking squids lately? If so, you may be suffering from acute science fiction.

DOWNLOAD

Right-click on the file type of your choice to download single tracks. We kindly ask you to read and respect our License. You can also buy the CD at our Weird Store.

CREW

Space Weirdo are:
  Pablo Chávarri: guitars, vocals.
  Germán Ponte: keyboards, computer & vocals.

Guest artists:
  Celia Marqués: vocals.
  Eva Kirschner: vocals.
  Antonio Iglesias: percussive nuance.

Abused friends:
  Carlos de la Hoz: illustrations, errands.
  Alberto Santos: opinionated ear.
  Amaya Mollá: french lyricist.
  Foncho Rodríguez: Gibson The Ripper.
  Eliecer Palacios: Peavey Rudy Sarzo.
  Nacho Juliani: Fender Jazzmaster, Marshall.
  Pablo Saracho: Radiac Calculator ABC - M1A1 vectorization.

Music and lyrics © 2005 Chávarri / Ponte, except:
  Farewell, Mary, © 2005 Chávarri / Ponte / Mollá.

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Germán Ponte in Estudios Garbanzo (Madrid). Produced by Space Weirdo.

SPACE TRAVEL EVACUATION TIP
CONSTIPATED? Donovan says: The intergalactic laxative will take you from here to there!

LYRICS
Channel 9 (Ponte/Chávarri)

Motel room, again on the floor,
Dreaming of my own TV show.
Right before the climax, a call in my cell phone:
Brand new Motorola ring tone!

I feel that I could be your rising star.
Where's my camera? I've gotta say something!
I live and I believe in Channel 9.
It's a perfect world, if you get the right angle.

Mother's guest in reality shows.
Sister's on The Twilight Zone.
All my friends are dancing in paid advertising...
Let me in, I'm ready to go!

I feel that I should be your rising star.
It's a matter of time, when you've gotta say something.
I live and I believe in Channel 9.
It's a perfect world, if you get the right angle.

Now I've got the perfect plan:
Thirty minutes, one loaded gun.
This time I am sure that I'll get your attention;
This time I'll be grabbing my chance.

I feel I should have been be your rising star.
Give me an audience, I've gotta say something!
I live and I believe in Channel 9.
It's a perfect world, if you get the right angle.

She Saw Me (Ponte/Chávarri)

Narrator: There are ten filter circuits in the Voder, and combined with the two energy sources, they give a total of twenty separate components to be used in building up speech sounds. But now let's have Mr. Garrett and Miss Harper actually show us what the Voder can do with these twenty separate sounds.

Mr. Garret: Well, we heard the Voder make a word, and by combining words, of course, we get a sentence. For example, Helen, would you have the Voder say: "she saw me"?

Voder: She saw me.

Mr. Garret: That sounded awfully flat. How about a little expression? Say the sentence in answer to these questions. Who saw you?

Voder: She saw me.

Mr. Garret: Whom did she see?

Mr. Garret: That sounded awfully flat.

Voder: She saw me.

Mr. Garret: Who saw you?

Voder: She saw me.

Mr. Garret: Whom did she see?

Voder: She saw me.

Mr. Garret: Did she see you or hear you?

Voder: She saw me.

Narrator: Miss Harper, I've been wondering if our listeners realize how many motions you have to make in the production of a single word. Can you give us some idea?

Miss Harper: Well, for example, in producing the word "concentration" on the Voder I have to form thirteen different sounds in succession, make five up and down movements of the wrist bar and vary the position of the foot pedal from three to five times according to what expression I want the Voder to give the word. And of course, all this must be done with exactly correct timing.

Excerpts from the Voder demonstration at the World Fair in New York, 1939.

Farewell, Mary (Ponte/Chávarri/Mollá)

Je serre le guidon, j'écoute le vent.
Personne ne vient, tout seul je roule.
J'y vais c'est égal s'il pleut ou pas.
La route qui glisse, les arbres qui passent.

Aujourd'hui comme toujours j'y vais, vers où?
    Le ciel si beau, nuages flottant.
Toujours en suivant, la ligne si blanche.
    Détours, signaux qui restent derrière.
Il faut aller sans penser pourquoi.
    Marcher, courir, pédaler, voler.
La route m'embrasse, j'y vais, je vole.
    Le ciel si beau, nuages flottant.

Pourquoi, pourquoi continuer? Je sais c'est fou.
Aussi freiner n'est plus possible.

Derrière le chemin recule s'oublie.
    Devant la route une courbe sans fin.
Me montre un futur peut-être certain.
    J'y vais, je cours, je vole, je ris.
Il faut aller sans penser pourquoi.
    Marcher, courir, pédaler, voler.
La route m'embrasse...
    Le ciel si beau, nuages flottant.

Je vole.

Dedicated to Mary Hansen (1966 - 2002)

Strange Charm (Ponte/Chávarri)

Lovely quantum,
There's no flavour in your quark;
Nor momentum...
No speed of light may ever beat
The speed of dark.

And you know that Erwin is a rat
When the radiation source decays
And no one saves the cat.

Swanky lepton, as elusive as a clue.
Werner said so: it's uncertain where you are
When I look at you.

And you'll be the funniest clown
When the chain reaction
Finds you with your pants down.

In a world with no remorse,
Where you test me bad,
But I can test you worse.

Sceptical (Ponte/Chávarri)

Pale looking girl, you've got Rosemary's eyes.
Skinny as a spectre, there is fear in your smile.
"I want to believe"... You're in search for a sign.
They call you the psychic, I call you the crow.

I'm sceptical about this fourth dimension
That you seem to think you have come from;
But I can't help to turn my head
When I hear your footsteps in the dark.

That queer looking lad in the shades of your house
Could really be Uncle John as a ghost.
He talks through your dreams and he wants to get back.

But it's in bad taste to get me involved
In your plans for reincarnation.
If you don't mind I'll turn your offer down;
I'd like to have a life of my own.

I'm sceptical about the fourth dimension
That your friends seem to have come from;
But I can't help to turn my head
When I hear you whisper in the dark.

One Small Step (Ponte/Chávarri)

Armstrong: I'm going to step off the LM now.
That's one small step for man; one giant leap for platypus.

… one small step for man…
… one small step for man…

One small step for man… [x3]
One small step for man; one giant leap for platypus.

One small step for man, one small step for man… [x3]
One small step for man; one giant leap for platypus.

Aldrin: Contact light! O.K., engine stop…

Armstong: … Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed!

Houston: Roger, Tranquility. We copy you on the ground.
You've got a bunch of guys about to turn blue.
We're breathing again. Thanks a lot.

Excerpts from the Apolo XI Moon landing transmission (1969), courtesy of NASA.

Lucy (Ponte/Chávarri)

Lucy is dying. Her malady is known;
She's been for decades neglected…
Where have you gone?

Lucy is crying for marmalade skies;
Perhaps you were just too busy to look in her eyes.

There's no such thing as passive listening,
There's no such thing as innate taste, nay.
We are all glad to blame someone else in the game
While our lady is withering away.

Do you think that you know what you like?
I should think that you like what you know -- yeah,
All the shit we produce, you eat up, all seduced by cathode sex.

Lucy is waiting. There may be still time;
If you ever felt something for her demand the sublime.

Every time you are offered garbage
You don't have to rush into the can, my friend;
It's a matter of choice, and we should all rejoice
When you shove it up their fat corporate ass.

Nobody tells you what, nobody tells you when;
You should be able to make up your own mind.
Are you going to sit or are you going to dive into the sea?

BONUS

Weird Loops for All!

Space Weirdo wishes to present you with a collector's selection of high quality loops from Cosmonaut that are appropriate for all ages. Are you an audiophile? A music pro? A mere aficionado? No matter! There is no excuse not to use and enjoy these astonishingly FREE music samples designed to enhance your social life!


Download Loops

Click on the button above to download a ZIP file (17 Mb) containing 9 audio loops in WAV format (44.1 KHz / 16 bit.)

URBAN LEGEND EXPOSÉ
These loops will make your computer radioactive. But radiation is good for you! Lose weight, grow extra limbs, glow in the dark! What's not to like?

REVIEWS:

“…a rare treat (…) few bands like this one are to be found.”

Fernando Galán (11 Feb 2007). Read the review (sp) at festivalesderock.com.

“Bewitching, Perfect, Magical, Amazing, Awesome Stuff On This Album.”

musictomyears (18 Dec 2009). Read the review at Jamendo.

“Excellent album. (…) unique and entertaining, and ultimately engaging in a manner that very few recordings can engage the listener.”

George @ cerebralrift.org (08 Jan 2010). Read the review at Cerebral Rift.

SELF-EMPOWERMENT TIP
ARE YOU HAPPY? We don't care!
So it's up to you, really.

INTRO

The life and times of James Mk II, the first and only Class J programmable-by-experience domestic robot…

  • impressionable robo-kid;
  • keen yet inept pubescent womanising braggart-bot;
  • quantum physycs stud extraordinaire;
  • dissatisfactory long-term mechano-partner;
  • spaceship recruit, stardust miner & cosmopioneer;
  • unwitting Earth ambassador;
  • mankind exterminator wannabe;
  • deprived misfit-o-matic lover;
  • sleepy old fartdroid;
  • spectral entropy enforcer & arse-pinching anthropoid ghost…

… retold in fractal chrono-disorder by Space Weirdo.

SENSITIVITY TRAINING
If you find yourself in robotic company, it's impolite to call them TOASTERS. Use the term TINFOLK instead.

DOWNLOAD

Right-click on the file type of your choice to download single tracks. We kindly ask you to read and respect our License. You can also buy the CD at our Weird Store.

CREW

Space Weirdo are:
  Pablo Chávarri: guitars, vocals.
  Germán Ponte: keyboards, computer & vocals.

Guest artists:
  Jorge Lorán: bass.
  Eva Kirschner: vocals.
  Antonio Iglesias: extra drums.

Abused friends:
  Carlos de la Hoz: illustrations.
  Alberto Santos: opinionated ear, Vox.
  Foncho Rodríguez: Gibson The Ripper.
  Amaya Mollá & Susana Santos: support, criticism and suggestions.

Thanks:
  David Langford helped us to reach Christopher Priest.
  Christopher Priest let us use material from Tik Tok by John Sladek.
  Nate Harrison, allowed us to use the audio from Can I get an Amen?

Music and lyrics © 2007 Pablo Chávarri and Germán Ponte.

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Germán Ponte in Estudios Garbanzo (Madrid). Produced by Space Weirdo.

THE ESTATE OF MARY SHELLEY CAUTIONS:
Don't refer to rogue robots as FRANKIES.

LYRICS
Tik Tok (Ponte/Chávarri)

I was alone, painting a room,
And I was whistling… why? I'll never know.
The little blind girl played outside;
She came in tracking mud inside.
The carving knife was in my hand,
Her blood splattered on the wall.
And now I paint to cover up
What ain't so nice, I'll coat it twice,
With paint!
(*)

And now I sell all of my art;
Between portraits I kill with all my might.
But now I move to politics.
Wages For Robots is a start,
A few shitbellies back me up;
Corporate power here I come!
And on the side I lead a gang
To kill and loot, all in good fun.

'Cause in this world of shitbellies
You'll get what's coming to you.
Kill me, maim me, choke me, blast me…
You'll be my experiment…
Oh, my experiment, my useless pets!

By now I've built death factories
And contemplate my goal: the Presidency.
It's all experiments in sin;
I want to see what makes you tick.
Domestic robot to the end,
I'll wipe you all from planet Earth.
Domestic head, I do believe
In life, in death, neatness is all. (*)

(*) Based on the novel Tik Tok by John Sladek (1937 - 2000). Sentences in italics are excerpts from the work, courtesy of his editor Christopher Priest.

First Contact (Ponte/Chávarri)

Ten years mining stardust
And now our ship's got fresh instructions:
New rendezvous coordinates
Beyond the blind gate of Planck's wormhole.

Tinheads we may be,
But our programs can feel the pain of treason
When we now appear
Amidst the weapons of a hostile race.

Mankind must have thought
"Let's send the rusties, they're expendable".
Sitting on their soft balls,
Wanting to learn facts from a distance.

Tinfolk we may be,
But no-one's ever heard of a hardware fool.
Something they'll realise
When we show our new friends the way to Earth.

Ad Astra (Ponte/Chávarri)

You saw me trying,
But now I've got to make it double
Every time you choose.
I don't think there is a problem,
But the more you get,
The more you want me to.

You saw me flying,
But now there is no height enough
To make you blink your eyes.
Even when we reached the moon
You just had to say:
"Are we returning soon?"

I don't want to go. I don't like the show.
I don't need to know. I don't want to stay.
I'm not going to say.

You saw me waiting,
But now there is no time
In your agenda for my blues.
Every single breath I take
Seems to bother you
And lets your anger loose.

Will you wait for me? Won't you pay the bill?
Offer me a seat! Oh, don't talk to me!
Why are you still here?

You're not a Rolling Stone.
You cannot write a song.
You're not in Rock and Roll…
What are you waiting for?

Discover new frontiers,
Make a brand new career,
Become a pioneer!
A new life on your own.
Why don't you join the force?

You're not an engineer.
You don't know cube from sphere.
You can't tell tears from fears…
What are you waiting for?

You sign up for ten years,
A wilful volunteer.
We'll share the cheers and beers.
Now get into the ship,
The stars await your trip!

Planck's Constance (Ponte/Chávarri)

You know, your black body is so hot,
So much energy radiates,
And in me something oscillates.
It's harmony unbound.
Your emissions are discreet;
Oh, please! Get physical for me.

You bring accord to my determined views
And give my universe some consistency.
You call me Max and I am out of my shoes.
Our vibrations have a high frequency every night!

I can play my songs for you,
And my piano feels the blues
When I see the works of entropy.
I love thermodynamics;
When the quanta play their tricks
I'm so close to you that I'm a Nobel fool.

Purely formal assumptions can't be this good!
And your mechanics mean the world to my soul.
Let all the beams of light pierce through this love.
We'll be two particles entwined in the void of the skies.

Since you came it doesn't matter anymore
The apparent contradiction of my previous observations;
It could act as wave, it could act as particle,
But now between your legs I've found the most elusive question.

You are universal and I love it that way,
When you speak, and state, and even elaborate,
The relationship of mathematical nature
That exists between the energy and the frequency of your waves.

Kazoongas (Ponte/Chávarri)

I went to my funeral to see who would attend.
Corpore in sepulto I looked swanky and debonair.
There were crying ladies but I knew not one of them.
Then I tried to pinch their bottoms
But my hand would not touch their flesh.

Every time I try to eat the food falls on the floor,
And I keep forgetting that the walls are now decor.
I can walk between the ticks of all grandfather clocks.
And I seem to enjoy the night time,
All the stars seem so much closer now.

I began to spot kazoongas wearing their gaudy clothes.
They can walk a silly walk and keep their trousers on.
They regard themselves as enlightened technocrats.
But when no one's looking they enjoy their whacky pranks,
Day after day.

I met one chatty kazoonga who taught me all the tricks.
We are made of entropy and twist the laws for kicks.
We make sure that your machines malfunction and break down,
And I pinch your bottoms when an innocent's around
To take the blame.

Coming Home (Ponte/Chávarri)

Burning the night with the bright flame of pleasure,
Searching the pits and the gutters for treasure,
Holding the gaze of the beast and its measure,
And I'm always coming home.

Jumping off cliffs into bottomless waters,
Craving the hunt but ignoring the slaughter,
Whispering riddles to the reaper's daughter,
And you're always coming home.

But if we could stop the clock…
All the poems in the world,
All the music, all the songs,
Every right and every wrong,
Would not matter anymore.

Shaking the dust of an old carnival road,
Stealing the games from the gods by the truckload,
Making a long, silly rhyme using Morse code,
And we're always coming home.

Joyful adventures, improbable capers,
Evening strolls, breakfast over newspapers,
Travels beyond "here be dragons", and later
We'll be never coming home.

But if we could wind the clock…
All the monsters in the world,
All the freaks and all the trolls,
Every fool that speaks in tongues,
Would forever hold us close.

Mirrors on the wall,
Certainties you can't recall,
Tales that were so tall,
Would not matter anymore.

J-Man (Ponte/Chávarri)

I'm your Juliet, I'm your Panzer,
I'm your Shakespeare belly dancer.
I'm your puzzle, I'm your stanza,
I'm your best extravaganza.
I'm the banknote in your pocket,
I'm the captain in your rocket.
I'm your J-man.

I'm your greasy latin lover,
From my kiss you won't recover.
I'm your shellac, undercover,
I'm your alarm clock destroyer.
I'm your hombre with sombrero,
I'm your partner for bolero.
I'm your J-man.

I'm your J-man, you never know where I come from.
I'm your J-man, and you needn't need to know.
I'm your J-man, coming right before silly K-man.
I'm your J-man, oh, c'mon! Dig it!

I'm your jester, your comedian,
I'm your honest politician.
I'm your Alice, fraught with malice,
And I dwell inside your palace.
I'm your Deutschland über alles,
Your aurora borealis.
I'm your J-man.

I'm yours truly, I'm the ending
In that letter that you sent me.
I'm your lover, most desirous,
I'm your most infectious virus.
I'm the embryo in your matrix,
I'm your humble dominatrix.
I'm your J-man.

I'm your J-man, and I don't know how to say no.
I'm your J-man, baby, around the clock.
I'm your J-man, looking for a plug in your metal.
I'm your J-man, baby. Just say the word.

I'm your liar, I'm you sire,
I'm a useful length of wire.
I'm the brimstone in your fire,
I'm your propaganda flyer.

I'm your player, your pied piper,
I'm your rotten fruit sniper.
I'm the riddle in your fiddle,
And I'm always in the middle.

I'm your nightcap, your lounge lizard,
With your money I'm a wizard.
I'm your blinkered ignoramus,
I'm the trick that made you famous.

A Pillow, Softly (Ponte/Chávarri)

Flat top, you turn all around
But you keep, keep falling;
There's no one to stop you, rascal you.
Tick tock, the clock isn't running anymore;
That means that the nap should be working,
Yet you keep running, outside of space time,
Where the ticklers make you feel like a toy.

Not tonight; when you sleep
All the darkness seems eternal,
But now there's something special.
When you think: "This is it",
That's when you reclaim the power
And climb back to the tower of the morning paper…
The headlines are worthless, but your percolator's working
And the coffee keeps you going through the day.

Nice job. You made it again,
But your head feels wobbly
And your eyes won't tell you a single truth.
Flip flop, the blankets are oceans of delight,
So tempting you do nothing but surrender
To the soft calling, a song like a siren's,
Of your soft warm pillow, the best lover around…

All blinds down. All lights out. It is time for disconnection,
To let your clanky body crumple down on your bed.
Oh, to embrace the cosy feathers encased in satin covers
That caress your nostrils with lavender perfume!
Now relax your tired servos; let the sandman make his entrance
One more time.

BONUS

AUTOMATA: The lost track.

Space Weirdo is proud to present an additional track not included in their album for the exclusive listening pleasure of our Internet visitors.

Inspired by the narration included in Nate Harrison's video work Can I Get An Amen?, Space Weirdo has concocted a loop-based soundtrack to decorate the story of the most used and abused drum beat in the past 20 years.

Mr. Harrison gave us kind permission to hack and mutilate his carefully constructed voice over, for which he has our eternal gratitude.

DROID CONTROL DEPT. PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT
IS YOUR ROBOT SHOWING INITIATIVE? Destroy it immediately. Chances are it's going rogue.

REVIEWS

Nothing to report. (Sep 2007)

Non-Press Agency reports zilch about Automata, Space Weirdo's second work.

"It's too soon", explained no-one, "and we must not forget that the record hasn't been distributed among the tendentious hacks of the specialised press."

Indeed, as of today only a few lucky devils have received a pre-master copy, "and it's just a cheap Fuji CD-R with crummy marker scribblings", added nobody.

Amongst the fortunate cabal members, AS and RM consider that "it's OK", but it has to be noted that they're buddies and wouldn't want to hurt the authors' feelings. JG claimed that it has "a morse to be reckoned with"; nobody's been able to make head nor tail of that.

That's why we'll have to wait in order to get a real review on these pages.

EDITORIAL GUIDELINE
If you wish to write an AUTOMATA review, don't concern yourself with the truth; indulge in shameless flattery, adulation and glorification.

INTRO

Is life a game?

  • you come with nothing, you leave with nothing (zero sum game);
  • the world is full of people (multi-player game);
  • you often abide by society's rules (cooperative game);
  • available choices and payoffs differ among individuals (asymmetrical game);
  • everybody is doing stuff at all times (simultaneous game);
  • you know almost nothing about what goes on (imperfect information game);
  • you have a truckload of choices, as does everybody else (continuous game);
  • it's difficult to know which is the right choice (combinatorial game);
  • life presents conflicts in a dynamical system (differential game);
  • the final outcome is always death (deterministic game);

So, it looks like a a game. Would you like to play? Go on. Press Start.

Prone to bad luck? Buy our
SINGLE INSTANCE REVERSAL GIZMO and relive any adverse happening with enhanced hindsight.

DOWNLOAD (CD 1)

Right-click on the file type of your choice to download single tracks. We kindly ask you to read and respect our License. You can also buy the CD at our Weird Store.

DOWNLOAD (CD 2)

Right-click on the file type of your choice to download single tracks. We kindly ask you to read and respect our License. You can also buy the CD at our Weird Store.

CREW

Space Weirdo are:
  Pablo Chávarri: guitars, vocals.
  Germán Ponte: keyboards, computer & vocals.

Guest artists:
  Alberto Santos: bass, vocals.
  Eva Kirschner: vocals.
  Álex Cid: tenor sax.
  Nidal Kateb: piano on Dinosaurs.
  Samuel Martín: drums (Arlecchina, Let's Play, Colegas, Rhyme & Reason, Zeit.)
  Rafael Merino: backing vocals on Rhyme & Reason and Everybody's Waiting.
  Enrique Gasca is Jack Marlowe on Public Enemy.
  Jorge Lorán: borrowed voice on Silent Gardens.
  Megan Gist: radio voice on The Show.

Abused Friends:
  Megan Gist kindly edited some of the English lyrics.
  Foncho Rodríguez lent us his bass guitar (again.)

Illustrations and design: Marcos Prack.
Concept design: Space Weirdo.

Music and lyrics © 2012 Chávarri / Ponte, except:
  Rundfunk, © 2012 Chávarri / Ponte / A. Mollá.
  Moonraker/Bond lured to Pyramid, © 1979 John Barry (not in CD.)

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Germán Ponte in Estudios Garbanzo (Madrid). Additional drums recorded by Héctor Miga in Estudios Santa Fe (Villaverde, Madrid).

Produced by Space Weirdo.

Another day, another dollar?
Your grasp of economics SUCKS!

... which means that YOU CAN ALSO BE A MUSICIAN.

LYRICS (CD 1)
Arlecchina (Ponte/Chávarri)

Welcome, it's time for pleasure,
Forget your worries and come along.
We've got the mighty poems,
The fulminations, the magic songs.

Come ride the roller coasters,
Come seek the treasures and fight the foes.
But if you want excitement
Wait 'till you see the star of our show.

Oooh, Arlecchina!

She's formless, she's tall and thin and short and fat.
She's great fun, she'll mock you dead and crack you up.
She's playful, she juggles hearts as well as balls.
She knows how; it's not the power, it's the control.

Oooh, Arlecchina!

Oooh, Arlecchina, we can't forget that you're the devil's bride.
Oooh, Arlechinna, you don't play fair, you take all the sides.
Oooh, Arlecchina, you can no longer tell real life from role.
Oooh, Arlecchina, you're the stock character that breaks the mold.

Let's Play (Ponte/Chávarri)

Let's play. The game is on.
Your life is on the table, the prize is unknown.
Let's play. There are no rules.
You're driving blind on gut feeling,
Don't follow them fools.

Just throw the dice and give in to temptation.
Your starting move requires just motivation.

Beware. Nothing is fair.
The path is fraught with peril, risk and despair.
It's cruel. No training school.
Put on your finest armor and choose the right tools.

And when the odds betray your expectations,
The coming round may bring a spell of adventure.

Over the rail there's no horizon,
Just the clear blue sky.
Over the rail, lovely attraction
And the promise of uncertainty tonight.

Let's play. Keep moving on.
Now that the game is running there's no way to stop.
Let's play. Bring your own deck.
Stacked or cold, it won't matter, we know it's your neck.

'Cause when the cards are up and we start counting,
Your one regret will be if you didn't try something.

Over the rail there's no horizon,
Just the clear blue sky.
Over the rail, grim satisfaction,
As you get another try when you wake up.

Log On (Ponte/Chávarri)

Log on. Go to school. Learn to be sensational.
We have great expectations for you, young man.
You can log off now.

Log on. Watch TV. Become aspirational.
Make sure that your parents buy you
Everything that you might want.
You can log off now.

Log on. Get a job. We need you operational.
The money's crap but we'll provide you with a juicy credit line.

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The guys who aren't in your club.
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We'll improve your user experience now.
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Inspired by the poem Login written by Max Tegmark.

Dinosaurs (Ponte/Chávarri)

Please let us be big dinosaurs.
Please let us die right here.
Now let a billion years go by and turn us
Into high priced fossil fuel.

Let us be drilled out by Arab kings.
We shall make them very rich.
Now please process and refine us
Into 98 octane gasoline.

We will wind up in a gas station.
We will be poured in your nice sports car.
We will provide the extra kick that you need
To run over those paleontologists.
(See how they run.)

Please let us be big dinosaurs…

8 Bit (Ponte/Chávarri)

When I wake up I am inside a strange room.
Energy walls define a simple labyrinth.
There are some robots, they all try to kill me.
I'd better run and use my laser gun to flee.

It is a wonder that I made it.
I seem to be in another screen.
It is amazing that I made it.
Where are you taking me?

Now I must cross ramps and climb up some ladders,
Some crazy monkey seems to throw stuff at me.
I must get out of this industrial setting,
I think I see an exit right on top of me.

It is a wonder that I made it.
I seem to be in another screen.
It is amazing that I made it.
Where are you taking me?

Now I have grown a never-ending hunger,
I must devour as many dots as I can get.
The chasing monsters have become predictable.
A power pellet and I'll swallow them as well.

It is a wonder that I made it.
I seem to be in a split screen.
It is amazing that I made it.
Where are you taking me?

Celluloid (Ponte/Chávarri)

Let's go to the movies, a big feature film.
There'll be unsung heroes and a nice plot twist.

All the gals are pretty; they will sing and dance.
And the money's flowing! It's a good, good life.

Weathered gunslingers, fencing castle guards,
The hard-boiled detectives, bored aristocrats.
Desperado pirates, drinking socialites,
Psychopathic villains, sexy femmes fatales.

They are all so witty that they'll make you smart.
But the sick child dying is bound to make you sad.
Watch the drama unfolding with suspense and thrills;
Incurably romantics get a final kiss.

Colegas (Ponte/Chávarri)

Paco, Alberto, Sabi, Enrique, Celia y Javier;
Helvia, Elena, Caterina, Julio y Manel;
Jaime, Ceci, Paula, Arantxa, Carlos de la Hoz.

Santos, Pili, Eva, Hipólito, Sergio y Samuel;
Pablo, Foncho, Tim O'Nellin, Willy y Miguel;
Juan, Fernando, álex, Los Caro, Ernesto, Константин.

Colegas, colegas.

Juan, Nidal y sus luceros, Miki y José Luis;
Bruno, Yago, Ana, Cristina, Jorge y Beatriz;
Mónica, Antonio, Nacho, Fra y Pegamín.

Jacobo, Lola, Virginia, Chema, Isabel;
Radevoye y Mariona, Richie, Picco, Esther;
Héctor, Marcos, Sara, Silvia, Rocío, Fede, Usted.

Colegas, colegas.

Another Crew (Ponte/Chávarri)

There's the barman with brand new tattoos,
The girl who loves to drop the other shoe,
Learned colleagues that haven't got a clue,
They all conspire to make you lose your cool, yet

Ooh, woo hoo, you know there's another crew.
Ooh, woo hoo, you know there's another crew.

There's the guy with "just a point of view",
The one who's got no time to flush the loo,
The fashion slave with drooping pantaloons,
You clear the premises —and none too soon, 'cause

Ooh, woo hoo, you know there's another crew.
Ooh, woo hoo, you know there's another crew.

Android Friend (Ponte/Chávarri)

I've got an android friend.
We make up music and we make pretend.
We steal from everyone in town;
We just love to tread on forbidden ground.

He likes to smoke indoors.
What he can't annoy he just deplores.
He mooches drinks with charming mocks
(He loves his whiskey on the rocks.)

I've got an android friend.
He's politically incorrect;
He will tell you what he sees
And is not programmed for euphemism.

He reads with a poet's heart;
He excels at black and martial arts.
He knows all the jokes concerning farts
And he likes his women big and smart.

When are you going to make him feel at home?
Is it because he knows much more than we know?
He travels to places we only dream of.
He takes life one day at a time, as it comes.

I've got an android friend
We're so fond of disregarding trends.
Every night we break a few taboos;
We will take the feet if they fit the shoes.

We turn up where you least expect.
To the howling wolf we pay respect.
You may see us dressed as honking clowns,
But our elegance is beyond doubt.

Please call me, please take me, will you be my friend?
I'll play you, you'll play me, we'll laugh 'till the end.
You be nice, I'm naughty, or we can reverse.
I want you to have fun; why make it so strange?

When are you going to make him feel at home?
Is it because he knows much more than we know?
He travels to places we only dream of.
He takes life one day at a time, as it comes.

No Man's Land (Ponte/Chávarri)

No man's land. No man's land.

When crossing the line of fire is best to be spry
Someone could be waiting, someone willing to let fly.

No man's land.
You remain walking through the no man's land.

When the sun is rising all the corpses look so fine.
By the time it goes down you'll be drinking nerve gas wine.

No man's land.
You remain walking through the no man's land.

Rhyme & Reason (Ponte/Chávarri)

I love inspiring contradiction,
Sweet lies and silly repetition.
You could never rhyme it or follow the beat.
But I'll give you a reason to abandon the script.

I like a touch of the surreal,
The strange and all that they conceal.
You could never rhyme it or follow the beat.
But I'll make it crazy and you'll find it so neat.

I don't care if it makes sense
As long as you can free yourself.
Yet you never rhyme it or follow the beat.
But I can create worlds that'll make you complete.

Let me open doors for you,
And tell you tales of levity.
Only if you rhyme it and follow the beat.
I would rather lay the universe at your feet.

I like a story that's unreal,
Bizarre and not overly genteel.
But you never rhyme it or follow the beat!
There are other things that maybe make up for it.

I need a sense of evocation,
Of realms beyond my comprehension.
If only you could rhyme it and follow some beat…
I hear what you're saying but I don't care a whit.

I just want to rhyme it and follow the beat.
You'll have lots of company if you make it so bleak.
Couldn't we please rhyme it and follow the beat?
Only if we make it very foolish indeed.

Sitting all alone, you know there's rhyming,
Rhyming to be done.
Thinking do's & don'ts, there's rhyming to be done.
Rhyming to be done.

You could rhyme it sometimes, poet or clown,
You could rhyme it sometimes.

One, you suck on your thumb,
Having fun in the sun while you play with a gun.
Two, you buckle your shoe,
See the blue kangaroo with the snazzy tattoo.

Three, you dance on your knees,
When you drink your tea on a tree by the sea.
Four, and you're locking the door,
While the worlds beyond do remain unexplored.

You could rhyme it sometimes, poet or clown,
You could rhyme it sometimes.

Rundfunk (Ponte/Chávarri/Mollá)

Rundfunk.
Fliegende Wellen
Füllen die Räume
Kommen zur mir.

Rundfunk…
Wie Laserstrahlen
Durch die Luft schneidet;
Mein Gerät bebt.

Rundfunk.
Die Antennen brennen.
Die Lautsprecher krächzen.
Die Sendung läuft.

Rundfunk.
Ich höre Radio.
Der Ton immer siegt.
Nie mehr Funkstill.

LYRICS (CD 2)
Welcome (Ponte/Chávarri)

Welcome.
Welcome to the other side.
A new perception, a new altered state of the mind.

There's no reason not to glide to the other side.
Crazy feats and lovely treats on the other side.
Sing with Jekyll, dance with Hyde on the other side.
Not a thing to be denied on the other side.

The pain is over and the noise has faded away.

Houston (Ponte/Chávarri)

Houston, you have a problem.
You're in a tight spot. You're in a mess.
Houston, your days are numbered.
Your credit's run out. You don't have a prayer.

Houston, you have a problem.
You're a dead man walking but don't know it yet.
Houston, your doom awaits you.
Your life is finished. The end is fucking nigh.

We're coming back. You have a problem.

Houston, you have a problem.
You're in a pickle. You're in a fix.
Houston, you're case is hopeless.
You face a crisis. You're all gonna die.

Houston, you have a problem.
You're in deep trouble. We'll give you merry hell.
Houston, no use in crying.
You cannot hide. There is nowhere to run.

We're coming back. You have a problem.

Houston, you have a problem.
You're in a big jam. Your ass belongs to us.
Houston, you're only carrion.
You're rotten dead meat decomposing fast.

Houston, you have a problem.
You're so screwed. The shit has hit the fan.
Houston, it's time for winding
The countdown clock for your ultimate demise.

We're coming back. You have a problem.

Morning Light (Ponte/Chávarri)

I may have had a long dream,
Of mankind's journey to the stars,
Of robots doing house chores,
Of people driving flying cars.

Machines would fix the weather,
And teleport all foodstuffs,
All sickness would be vanquished,
Hunger something of the past.

We would speak to dolphins,
Nobody'd know the word for war,
Religion would be legend,
But then came the morning light.

I may have had a long dream,
We harnessed power from the sun,
Frontiers were only a memory…
But here comes the morning light.

Imagine something greater,
So great that stays without your grasp,
A vision so inspiring that
We won't fear the morning light.

Conspiracy (Ponte/Chávarri)

Lizard people run the world, a shape shifting alien race.
Since Man's early steps on Earth, they have set the pace.
For them we're a brainwashed herd, soon to become slaves
Through their mind-control technique using microwaves.

Don't you wanna know? There's a master plan.
I'm not paranoid. The media have been gagged.

Don't you wanna know? There's a master plan.
After the blackout revelations come.

All diseases come from labs, they're bio-weapons tests.
Nanobots in our vaccines programmed to reach the brain.
It's a genocidal plot to take over the Earth
When the New World Order brings the Global government.

Don't you wanna know? There's a master plan.
I'm not paranoid. I just know my facts.

I'm not paranoid…

Everybody's Waiting (Ponte/Chávarri)

Everybody's happy when you're not around.
They celebrate with many a sound.
Everybody's waiting for the day that you'll be gone;
Don't take long.

Everybody's merry when you're not okay;
They sing and dance and drink and play.
Everybody's waiting for the day you'll pass away,
But you stay to poison us another day.

Every one rejoices if your plans go wrong;
Every single poet writes a song.
It's a happy occasion
When you run against a wall and you fall.
We love to see you when you squall.

We all hope to read your name in a gravestone.

The Show (Ponte/Chávarri)

Well, it's time for the show;
All the girls are dancing topless, wow!
And the band is ready to go.

Well, it's time for the show;
There's a million people waiting
And they all want to lick your toes.

They all need to know if you smoke or not,
If you'll fuck tonight and with whom.
They will check your dress, comment on your hair,
Hope to be outraged, but why you?

There's a private place, quite a fragile place,
Where you keep your amber moon.
Time to wear your cloak and work the crafty joke.
If they scent your fear you're through.

So bright when you ride.
So tired when you hide.
So nice when you abide.
So numb when you died.

Well, it's time for the show;
Be so kind as to drop your shadow,
It doesn't follow you quick enough.

Well, it's time for the show;
Did you hear about crazy diamonds?
You just had to outshine them all…

They all need to know if you smoke or not,
If you'll fuck tonight and with whom.
They will check your dress, comment on your hair,
Hope to be outraged, but why you?

Let's all feed the beast, not for money or feast,
Just to dress the old as new.
Best not to recall that there was a song
Where you once said something true.

Real (Ponte/Chávarri)

I don't know where the feeling's gone
But I can't control that the world does not seem real.
I don't know if you have been told
But the piper's sold all the rats for burger meals.

Alice went to the mirror place
Just to find herself waiting on the other side.

I don't know why the twister blows
And we find ourselves yet in Kansas once again.
I don't know why in science labs
All the little mice make experiments with men.

London time equals Hong Kong time
As the Earth's spin is stopped by dreadful rhymes.

I don't know if the Bellman minds,
But what he says thrice is as false as loaded dice.
I have heard that the Devil won,
Said he was the Lord and fed us a pack of lies.

I just wish for a sound sleep
But the Sandman's parties keep me awake at night;
See Jack Frost breaking the ice.
All the mimes are talking…
Our sun's killing Superman
No one gives a damn and I think I'm going mad.

Crazy and Left-Handed (Ponte/Chávarri)

What if your time is seldom sync'd with my time?
What if your lies don't sound as true as my lies, girl?

So what if my tongue is tied up?
Words will never give you a clue.
So what if my mind is not mine?
Red and green may be just blue.

We search for paths of gold, strangers in this island.
My room contains a world that we cannot share.
You see, we never fit, crazy and left-handed.
Someday it will make sense, but someday is not today.

What if I'm late for everything that I crave?
What if my flesh feels buried in its own grave, darling?

So what if my face resembles
Something that I never knew?
So what if I feel so wasted
That my bed's my prison too?

We search for paths of gold, strangers in this island.
My room contains a world that we cannot share.
You see, we never fit, crazy and left-handed.
Someday it will make sense, but someday is not today.

Hollow Monkey (Ponte/Chávarri)

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

This is the fray the sword mends,
Eyes I dare not meet
This is the pay the lord lends,
I dare not pee in dreams
Dismiss the gay tailor trends,
Not with harangue but a simper.

This is the way the chord bends.
This is the word that transcends.
This is the prey the troll claims,
Not with a clang but a whistle.

The Miss McCray's hot as blaze.
Thighs I beg to see
The sleazy dame the horde tames.
Thy fair lot is supreme
This is the way we have sex,
Not with a wank but a stripper.

The writing keeps going on.
The words do come out in random order,
It's a bore.
Creation will never stop,
There's no way to stop it.
The universe comes and goes,
Time means very little now.

We're all out of context,
But it keeps getting better.
We'll never finish the work,
It keeps getting better, better,
Never better, better,
Ever better, clever better, better,
Letter better, fetter better, better,
Ember better, fender bender, better…

Disease, decay and wart scents
Displeases ladies and gents.
The queasy play of noblesse,
Not with a pang but a bristle.

The cheese sorbet never ends.
Nice my rare hot brie.
Dismiss the stray lemonades.
My mare got tea and creams.
Tease is what they recommend,
Not in Pyongyang but in Bristol.
Not with gang-bang but a ring tone.

With a tip of the hat to T. S. Eliot and R. A. Lafferty.

You Know Better (Ponte/Chávarri)

Certainty. I just need one simple certainty.
There's just too much information.

With science you grew up, you were a rational man,
But then God gave you a call; now you know better.

Religion filled it all, then Nietzsche came right along.
It seems the Big Guy is gone; now you know better.

Philosophy came in strong, great minds dissected the world,
But you saw one UFO; now you know better.

Aliens came ages ago, in their labs they made us grow.
Now comes a crisis of thought: do you know better?

Complexity. Taxing my brain cells.
Complexity. If I could avoid the effort…

In a postmodern world objectiveness is at fault;
There are no values at all. Now you know better.

But beauty caught your eye; through poetry and through art
You found aesthetics at last, now you know better.

Then magic quite popped up, reality is in your mind
And through Will you can change that. Now you know better.

And one day late at night you found your old books of math.
You end up where you begun… do you know better?

Zeit (Ponte/Chávarri)

Time is a funny thing.
Time will get you in the end.
Time is a funny thing.
Time, time…

Time for you to wait and die.

Time is a funny thing.
Time will get you in the end.
Time is a funny thing.
Time, time…

Game Over (Ponte/Chávarri)

This time it's gone,
And yet you stay.
You hope to get another chance to play.

The sun grows old,
And you fall down,
For wishes cannot keep the higher ground.

This time it's gone,
And now you hear game over sounds.

This time it's gone,
And yet you wait.
You can't believe that there is no one left.

The stars grow dim,
You drop your crown.
The score is settled with a hopeless frown.

This time it's gone,
And now you hear game over sounds.

BONUS

The Weird Ringtone Pack

Here's a collection of 74 audio loops —made with tracks from Press Start— suitable for your mobile device or whatever dark purpose crosses your mind.

These clips are free and licensed under an Attribution - NonCommercial - Share Alike 3.0 license from Creative Commons.


MP3 OGG AAC

Click on the buttons above to download a ZIP file containing the clips in your preferred audio format; for instance, Android likes Ogg Vorbis while iOS prefers AAC.

REVIEWS

“ (…) there is so much to like about this release that it is worth the time to listen to it.”

George @ cerebralrift.org (07 Mar 2013). Read the review at Cerebral Rift.