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Russian Easter (St. John Crysostom Version)
Anger and despair. In 6/8. With chanting. Does it get any better than that?
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C.H.Featherstone
2008 C.H.Featherstone
Built on Fill (Part 1 - Lisa)
Sat Sep 06, 2008
Alternative : Alt Power Pop
2008 C.H.Featherstone
Built on Fill (Part 1 - Lisa)
Sat Sep 06, 2008
Alternative : Alt Power Pop
Take charge
Charts position
» highest in charts: # 668 (155,762 songs currently listed in Alternative)
» highest in sub-genre: # 55 (6,250 songs currently listed in Alternative > Alt Power Pop)
» highest in sub-genre: # 55 (6,250 songs currently listed in Alternative > Alt Power Pop)
About the song
Summer, 1988 again. I was reflecting on a similar (but different) jilting experience (I look back now and say "but at least there were girls involved," which was a definite improvement over, say, 1985) involving a trip to a Russian Easter mass at the great big cathedral on Geary St. in San Francisco. There was supposed to be chanting at the end of this song -- there was in the demo version I recorded way back when -- but I couldn't make it work here (I wish GarageBand had a function similar to speeding up and slowing down recording speeds). The 12/8 drum beat actually gives this some life, as the original drum beat was straight 6/8. This feels like it could be marching through the French Quarter of New Orleans. Kinda. Maybe. Okay, not really.
I originally wrote this is 4/4, and how this became 6/8 remains something of a mystery to me. In the summer of 1989, Jeff Smith and I recorded a really nice version of this in his studio. I have no idea what happened to that tape, and neither does Jeff, I imagine. Oh well...
When I would play this live, I really would nearly fall apart on stage after the second chorus -- it's supposed to be something of a nervous breakdown, of wailing and sadness. It either works or leaves an audience completely bewildered (I've had both reactions). As I was recording this, I kept wondering when the police would show up.
I originally wrote this is 4/4, and how this became 6/8 remains something of a mystery to me. In the summer of 1989, Jeff Smith and I recorded a really nice version of this in his studio. I have no idea what happened to that tape, and neither does Jeff, I imagine. Oh well...
When I would play this live, I really would nearly fall apart on stage after the second chorus -- it's supposed to be something of a nervous breakdown, of wailing and sadness. It either works or leaves an audience completely bewildered (I've had both reactions). As I was recording this, I kept wondering when the police would show up.
Lyrics
it's a case of mistaken tries
i am mistaken and that's the whole side
she was worn away in the town where i died
bless me and bless her and bless all the spies
there were two tribes in the holy land
holy as such on the gypsum white sand
she was raised in the town that raised its hand
bless the inferno world of the damned
cold cold whispers
i thought i'd never miss her
being glad she is gone
is tougher now, she's gone away
this time all the headlines were wrong
she was a bastard and brought him along
surrender your soul to your faith's icon
crushed without words in the easter mass throng
extra, extra, time's standing still
while we debate over how we shall kill
surrender yourself to the cold war chill
crushed without pain oh it lacks all the thrill
cold cold whispers
i thought i'd never miss her
being glad she is gone
is tougher now, she's gone away
i am mistaken and that's the whole side
she was worn away in the town where i died
bless me and bless her and bless all the spies
there were two tribes in the holy land
holy as such on the gypsum white sand
she was raised in the town that raised its hand
bless the inferno world of the damned
cold cold whispers
i thought i'd never miss her
being glad she is gone
is tougher now, she's gone away
this time all the headlines were wrong
she was a bastard and brought him along
surrender your soul to your faith's icon
crushed without words in the easter mass throng
extra, extra, time's standing still
while we debate over how we shall kill
surrender yourself to the cold war chill
crushed without pain oh it lacks all the thrill
cold cold whispers
i thought i'd never miss her
being glad she is gone
is tougher now, she's gone away
