Withered Land

by Somnambulist

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03:28
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03:29
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04:40
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01:12
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02:55

about

Recorded live at the PARADOX, Antwerp 1983
First release on cassette by CENTRAL TAPES

credits

released October 31, 1983

Live mix by Marc Verhaeghen
Digitaly remastered by Dimitri Van Elsen

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Somnambulist Belgium

M.Bryo & D.M.T., Somnambulist, KOYT!, The Thepaphone.

M.Bryo is the soloproject of Mark Burghgraeve, of whom in May 2007 a split 7" was released on the American Minimal Wave label. In 2011, "the Withered Land" was released on Vinyl on Walhala.

M.Bryo and Somnambulist are projects from the early 80’s, KOYT! Was formed & deformed in 2005.

Recently, M.performs as a solo artist on rare occasions.
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Track Name: A Mirage
A Mirage

I measured the landscape and a cabin of clay
marking down the hills, they seemed to disarray

I ran to the liquid, another mirage
as by the time I finally got there
it turned into grains

I hurried back to the tent where she lay down
sharing her bag with a stranger, naked on the ground

from wall to wall our distance touched
as she gave birth to a dead child
as soon her fingers clutched the sheets

I measured the landscape and a cabin of clay
marking down the hills, they seemed to disarray

I hurried back to the tent where she lay down
sharing her bag with a stranger
sharing her bag with a stranger
naked on the ground
naked on the ground
naked on the ground
naked on the ground
Track Name: Sand
Sand

Everything of value turned to sand
And every conversation turned to dust
She just whispered she felt like six years back
As she lay down, I smiled again

Suddenly she said she had to pee
And pulled her skirt up to her hips
Well I just did know where to look

Suddenly she said she had to pee
And pulled her skirt up to her hips
Well I just didn't know not where to look

I focused my eyes
On an ancient book
Track Name: Facing the moon
Facing the moon

Facing the moon from the sweep of the dunes
Taking no notice of the sound from the liquid below

Watching the torches lighting the sand
Facing the moon from the sweep of the dunes
Throwing away the angle of wood
Pouring the limbo of cylinder sounds
Facing the moon from the sweep of the dunes
Taking no notice of the sound from the liquid below

Facing the moon from the sweep of the dunes
Taking no notice of the sound from the liquid below
Watching the torches lighting the sand
Facing the moon from the sweep of the dunes

Facing the moon from the sweep of the dunes
Taking no notice of the sound from the liquid below
Watching the torches lighting the sand
Facing the moon from the sweep of the dunes

Throwing away the angle of wood
Pouring the limbo of cylinder sounds
Facing the moon from the sweep of the dunes
Taking no notice of the sound from the liquid below
Track Name: Things I was due to forget
Things I was due to forget

The walls at home were growing mouldy.
Things I was due to forget
They started throwing strange things at me
some of them wore only red

A man hanging on the ceeling
and smoke hung in the air
I was teased by some flashbacks
and people coloured their hair

The sound of dancing getting soggy
or else the floor getting wet
The walls in there were growing mouldy.
The thing I was due to forget

Things I was due to forget
Things I was due to forget
Things I was due to forget
Things I was due to forget
Things I was due to forget
Things I was due to forget
Things I was due to forget
Track Name: The 9 fingernails
The 9 fingernails

We sit 'round the fire
We sit 'round the fire all night
We sit 'round the fire and pray for the dawning

It's okay.
It's allright
We can dance all night

Them 9 fingernails
Them saw a paw in the night
Them want to run and hide

But it's okay.
It's allright

Them go astray
Them go beyond arid trees
Them go across the withered the land

It's okay.
It's allright
We can dance all night
All night...
All night...
Track Name: The heat
The Heat

It's so hot in here, even the rooms shrink...
They're building a dancehall, they copied the dunes...

Itching skins and sqeecky bones search but find no place called home
Itching skins and sqeecky bones search but find no place called home

The heat increases, our swamps vapourize.
If it keeps rising, only insects survive.

Itching skins and sqeecky bones search but find no place called home
Itching skins and sqeecky bones search but find no place called home

We fight desiccation, our skins shivel up.
By cutting down the plants, They cut away the shadows.

Itching skins and sqeecky bones search but find no place called home
Itching skins and sqeecky bones search but find no place called home

desiccation, desiccation, desiccation

Itching skins and sqeecky bones search but find no place called home
Itching skins and sqeecky bones search but find no place called home
Track Name: Tribe
Tribe

When she gave birth under the mouldy scaffolding
of what later should become a wooden dancehall,
the ancient women wailed.

I, at that time, was busy measuring the landscape,
marking down the points of value.

There were still traces of artificial grass,
under a soil of fungus.

That night, it occured to me that
someone of the tribe
howled against the moon.
I watched him doing it for
about eight hours,
untill the night had past.

Next morning, we discovered
someone had been stealing food from our suplies.
So we were forced to go back and leave these people.
Track Name: The hunt
Instrumental