How To Be A Bad Slave EP

by Blood Red Renaissance

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1.
03:23
2.
04:16
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06:40
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credits

released September 14, 2012

MATTHEW R. DAVIS: vocals, bass, piano, keyboards, samples
TOM KILSBY: drums, backing vocals
OWEN GILLETT: keyboards, vocals
LARRY ASH: electric & acoustic guitars, backing vocals
PETE SEARS: guitars, backing vocals

Produced by Blood Red Renaissance
Recorded by Owen Gillett @ Billy Hyde Adelaide, Asian Delights and The Interrogation Room
Additional engineering by Larry Ash
Mixed and mastered by Owen Gillett @ The Interrogation Room
Live tracks recorded by Lisa Lane-Collins @ The Cavern Club, Adelaide, 4.11.11

Art: Matthew R. Davis
Photography: Yvonne Sears
Scarlett: Anna van Gasteren

With love to our families, partners, friends, anyone who has helped or inspired us, and especially Paul Hutchinson and Benjamin Ewens

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Track Name: I'm A Gun
Blind and deaf and fuckin' dumb, just like a gun. The great interrogator - shoot first, ask questions later. We grew thumbs, we're number one - wonder how come? The great annihilator is merely human nature. I'm a Glock, fully cocked, with a live one up the spout; a wisp of cordite trickles from my mouth. I'm gun, snap my tongue like a hammer in the groove; I sit and spit my hollow points at you. I'm a what? I'm a what? I'm a motherfuckin' gun - and if not, then just what would you call me...? 'Cause I'm blind and deaf and fuckin' dumb, just like a gun. The great expectorator - spit lead and unmake nature. We grew thumbs, we're number one - wonder how come? The great ejaculator - hair-trigger operator, yeah... kapow! I'm a piece, steel and grease, with a hammer for a heart; messy expressionism, my art. I am hate, I negate, uncreate, therefore I am - the hand of god a fist on the wrist of man! Blind and deaf and fuckin' dumb, just like a gun. The great intimidator - the perfect legislator. We grew thumbs, we're number one - ever wonder how come? The greatest fornicators - the great exterminators, yeah... (M. Davis)
Track Name: Mirrormasque
Harlequinade - clown cavalcade. The joker, the fool - that's me and you. Yeah, we're all throwing pies, telling lies - we're all Bozos. We masquerade - fools on parade. The mirror and you - laughing at each other's truths. Yeah, we're all juggling balls, taking falls - we're all Bozos. We're all Pogos. We're all slapping on the facepaint, hiding bodies in the basement and killing with a smile. We're all biting tongues to suck them in, bleeding from a lipstick grin - and we laugh in the mirror as the joke becomes clearer: a little glam, a little flim-flam and we're somebody else in this carnival of carnivores, juggling chainsaws for sport - harlequinade. Savage charade - all marks are made. Prince in a can - a joker found in every hand. Yeah, we're all falling down, breaking crowns - we're all Pogos. We're all Pierrots. We're all slapping on the facepaint, hiding bodies in the basement and killing with a smile. We're all biting tongues to suck them in, bleeding from a lipstick grin - and we turn from the mirror as the truth becomes clearer: some silly clothes, a wig, a red nose, and we're dressed as ourselves in this carnival of carnivores, juggling chainsaws for sport. Even a fool well knows how this game goes: we're naked all and shown bare to the bone... APPLAUSE! APPLAUSE! APPLAUSE! APPLAUSE! (M. Davis)
Track Name: Ghosts Of Endeavour
Slow motion disintegration - my tongue has turned to lead and words just fail me. My wounds sting, forever haemorrhaging. I've lost my way, betrayed by my own lazy eye. I must remember that I'm free and beautiful... before these memories are all that's left of me. Before this melody is all that's left of me, left of me... No solace in convenience - it's Sunday and my sheets still stink of strangers. We're fucking but I just feel nothing, counting the seconds until I can be alone. I must remember that I'm loved for who I am... before these memories are all that's left of me. Before this melody is all that's left of me, left of me... (M. Davis)
Track Name: Bad Slave
The day is your playground - the night is ours. Striding the dark in packs like wolves, free of the shackles for a few precious hours. And though the world grows dumber every day, we'll have our say. We'll not be lied to by the likes of you - one glorious day, we'll pull the pins on hand grenade hearts and explode into life like celluloid exposed to light. So come lend your throat to this call of wild abandon. Who would be free must fight to be - until then, we sing of a revolution that won't come. When all's said and done, you were a good slave. Scream for evolution, sieze the day. Aim to misbehave and be a bad slave. Oh, yeah! Your gods are as empty as your words, but our blood is sacred. Riding the flux in flocks like birds, bearing the hearts of doves and the will of ravens. And though we're denied and lied to each day, we'll have our say. We will not come to be the likes of you - you'll become us! So lend your throat to this call of wild abandon - breath from your lungs, spit from your tongue. Until then, we sing of a revolution that won't come. When all's said and done, you were a good slave. Scream for evolution, seize the day. Aim to misbehave and be a bad slave. You waste your days as we create the means of your distraction. Those who can will do, and those who can't... just give reactions. Reactions! So pull the pins on hand grenade hearts and blow the past into dust, or we'll repeat it as we swing and sing of a revolution that won't come. When all's said and done, you were a good slave. Scream for evolution, seize the day. Aim to misbehave and be a bad slave. Yeah! Be a bad slave. (M. Davis)