brazen. simple.
release 4 march 2017
producer AIMUA EGHOBAMIEN
co-producer BEN ZWERIN
executive producer DAVID QUINTAVALLE
℗ & © 2017 QUAESITOR MUSIC QML003
sounds
tracks
01 untitled (I stand) / solus
02 taton
03 iye (mother)
04 erha (father) / a love poem (3)
05 going home
06 terminal four
07 johnsburg, illinois
08 nimbus
09 you and I and the walls / jaunt
10 what do I have
11 threnody
12 water
13 untitled (breezy) / winds adrift
album description
The album showcases a number of Eghobamien’s own compositions that realise the full synthesis of his musical roots. “Slate Of The Atlantic”, simple and stately, looks back to the work song, the blues style of “You Gotta Move” and the traditional spiritual style of “There Is A Balm In Gilead” (both also covered on the album). It builds in intensity with West African drums and with strings in a style one might associate with the Highlands or bluegrass. “Coffee Shop Window” capitalises on the complexity of an off-rhythm bass line and anxious strings to transform a sweet lyric of life’s possibilities into a more edgy and modern composition. “On The Surface”, with a catchy melody and bittersweet lyric, just soars in the perfect fusion of Eghobamien’s ear and heart. For the first time, Eghobamien’s poetry complements his music to create an innovative performance aesthetic. The poem, “Indigo”, precedes and sets the mood for “Slate Of The Atlantic” and “patches” is used to prepare the narrative for the song, “Enough”. This song builds relentlessly from the poem adding a steady, mantra-like bass groove to climax with the existential lament, “I cannot go back home/I am not even here, anymore”, then fades away again.
reviews
[loving you] “it is done so beautifully. I love how you listened to the lyric and sang the song and its meaning. job well done, my friend.”
—ARTIE BUTLER songwriter
lyrics
another day is come; another day is gone
another night will darken without you in my arms
the surface of things seems nice for a while
the telephone will ring, but your voice won’t sing
forgetting how to love behind our bedroom door
our conversation shaded by the threat of distance
the surface of things won’t hold anymore
they crumble beneath dreams—the weight of this song
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
the keys you left behind; the record of our life
pretending that the whole world is at war just for us
the surface of things that keep us apart
are lies we tell our friends that we now believe
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
another day is come; another day is gone
another night will darken without you in my arms
the surface of things seems nice for a while
the telephone will ring, but your voice won’t sing
forgetting how to love behind our bedroom door
our conversation shaded by the threat of distance
the surface of things won’t hold anymore
they crumble beneath dreams—the weight of this song
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
the keys you left behind; the record of our life
pretending that the whole world is at war just for us
the surface of things that keep us apart
are lies we tell our friends that we now believe
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
another day is come; another day is gone
another night will darken without you in my arms
the surface of things seems nice for a while
the telephone will ring, but your voice won’t sing
forgetting how to love behind our bedroom door
our conversation shaded by the threat of distance
the surface of things won’t hold anymore
they crumble beneath dreams—the weight of this song
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
the keys you left behind; the record of our life
pretending that the whole world is at war just for us
the surface of things that keep us apart
are lies we tell our friends that we now believe
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
another day is come; another day is gone
another night will darken without you in my arms
the surface of things seems nice for a while
the telephone will ring, but your voice won’t sing
forgetting how to love behind our bedroom door
our conversation shaded by the threat of distance
the surface of things won’t hold anymore
they crumble beneath dreams—the weight of this song
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
the keys you left behind; the record of our life
pretending that the whole world is at war just for us
the surface of things that keep us apart
are lies we tell our friends that we now believe
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
another day is come; another day is gone
another night will darken without you in my arms
the surface of things seems nice for a while
the telephone will ring, but your voice won’t sing
forgetting how to love behind our bedroom door
our conversation shaded by the threat of distance
the surface of things won’t hold anymore
they crumble beneath dreams—the weight of this song
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
the keys you left behind; the record of our life
pretending that the whole world is at war just for us
the surface of things that keep us apart
are lies we tell our friends that we now believe
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
another day is come; another day is gone
another night will darken without you in my arms
the surface of things seems nice for a while
the telephone will ring, but your voice won’t sing
forgetting how to love behind our bedroom door
our conversation shaded by the threat of distance
the surface of things won’t hold anymore
they crumble beneath dreams—the weight of this song
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
the keys you left behind; the record of our life
pretending that the whole world is at war just for us
the surface of things that keep us apart
are lies we tell our friends that we now believe
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
another day is come; another day is gone
another night will darken without you in my arms
the surface of things seems nice for a while
the telephone will ring, but your voice won’t sing
forgetting how to love behind our bedroom door
our conversation shaded by the threat of distance
the surface of things won’t hold anymore
they crumble beneath dreams—the weight of this song
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
the keys you left behind; the record of our life
pretending that the whole world is at war just for us
the surface of things that keep us apart
are lies we tell our friends that we now believe
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
another day is come; another day is gone
another night will darken without you in my arms
the surface of things seems nice for a while
the telephone will ring, but your voice won’t sing
forgetting how to love behind our bedroom door
our conversation shaded by the threat of distance
the surface of things won’t hold anymore
they crumble beneath dreams—the weight of this song
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
the keys you left behind; the record of our life
pretending that the whole world is at war just for us
the surface of things that keep us apart
are lies we tell our friends that we now believe
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
in the middle of the war
waiting and dreaming and fighting then leaving
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
poem
what I remember of you quickly fades
the hem of a sundress
half the insignia on a platinum cufflink
the beginning of a gasp
the end of an avenue on a day
when sunset refuses and colours the sky
endlessly with our history
glimpses of us on endless cobblestones
halt at the beginning
of a street we might have lived on—
I think
I claw at shreds of synced footsteps in the park
now in a strange rhythm
I don’t hear the music we dance to
song
I’m not strong enough without you
I’m not nearly as brave or wise
the toll I pay is expensive
my currency isn’t worth much
dreaming of the way it used to be
the floor no longer befriends my feet
I cannot go back home
I am not even here
I’m not strong enough without you
I’m not nearly as brave or wise
the toll I pay is expensive
my currency isn’t worth much
dreaming of the way it used to be
the floor no longer befriends my feet
I cannot go back home
I am not even here
it’s not enough that the scent of you lingers awhile
never enough, not enough, not enough, not enough
waking from slumber attempting to run for a mile
it’s not enough, not enough, not enough, not enough
placing myself in a crowded room filled with delight
it’s not enough, not enough, not enough, not enough
silently lotused and humming; not stating my plight
never enough, not enough, not enough, not enough
dreaming of the way it used to be
the floor no longer befriends my feet
I cannot go back home
I am not even here—anymore
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
another day begins with
everyone arming with the
weapon of her choice
love, lips or the voice
raising her children in this
magnificence and longing
caught up in the war
casualty of gore
armour of melanin and
sheer will may not prevail in
this world of today
unlike yesterday
sunshine, rainbow, shadowed wall
buying bread on a grey day
darting home through the melee
waiting for the rain to fall
sunshine, rainbow, shadowed wall
elysian fields elude her
though she is covered in myrrh
this was not her choice
does not have a voice
what will the little ones do
create and hope it comes true—
the end of the war
bloodshed and its cause
curly smokes dissipate and
shortly so will the hate now
that this day is done
future will be borne
sunshine, rainbow, shadowed wall
duck and hide in a doorway
holding on refusing to pray
and implore the rain to fall
sunshine, rainbow, shadowed wall
in the city, it rains redder
we all live here, oils and water
drawn on pavement, lines dividing
buying bread on a grey day
darting home through the melee
waiting for the rain to fall
sunshine, rainbow, shadowed wall
duck and hide in a doorway
holding on refusing to pray
and implore the rain to fall
sunshine, rainbow, shadowed wall
sunshine, rainbow, shadowed wall
© 2016 poured gently music—bmi
I fell in love with the girl
in the coffee shop window
she doesn’t look up
she doesn’t dance with me
years from now we’ll be married
with three little ones, two boys and a girl
I fell in love with the girl
in the coffee shop window
I fell in love with the boy
in the coffee shop window
he pays attention
he glances up at me
spaces ahead showing promise
of birthdays and wine, scholars at a cocktail
I fell in love with the boy
in the coffee shop window
standing here in front my life
catching glimpses of my choices
was it right or wrong to hold you
will you walk with me till the end
I fell in love with your love
in the coffee shop window
newspapers, music
sweet smelling coffee brewing
standing here in front my life
catching glimpses of my choices
was it right or wrong to hold you
will you walk with me till the end
I fell in love with your love
in the coffee shop window
© 2012 poured gently music—bmi
poem
breezy, slowly finding the path to the top
bridging earth, air and leaves—no lines
leaving clothes behind in a gentle tornado
red and lilac and something between electric and blue
petals open now revealing dew
tormented by bliss—kissing spring
skin fading, turning from death to sparkles
floating; skating; vapours vanishing
amorphous and silent songs
bleeding into veins and capillaries
keeping the dark soil cool and warm and cozy
song
the force of the wind this night
inevitably gets to us
just as all hope
is lost
it washes away the dirt, the past
bad confrontational relations
breathing smiles and laughter
like children in fields
the force of the wind this night
creates the wounds that leave happy scars
a reminder of the good and bad we have
frown and laugh and tan lines
the wind steals us to and from
endings and the start of everything
moment by moment
by moment
rainfall on a sunny day
leaf turns to autumn’s wind
bead of sweat on the nape
that cools
with winds that drift
then wrap and sweep
an ordinary person’s life
and ordinary paper turns in—
to an aeroplane and
flies, flies, flies, flies, flies, flies
© 2016 poured gently music—bmi
