Song picture
Haemophiliac Heroes
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Another Pygmy Beat Augmented collaboration. Part prog, part psychedelic part I don't know what.
prog flute cello psychedelic banjo political mandolin sax rock folk pygmy beat
Artist picture
Folk rock meets blues rock whilst occassionally veering into psychedelic and prog rock.
Pygmy Beat: Terry Berman - vocals, sax, piano, flute, recorder & Catholic guilt; ray cochrane - basses, guitars, bad cello, percussion & Protestant longing; Roland - drums, percussion & digital watches; RAMI - occasional drums; Gerry Steele - frequent lead guitar solos; Greg Loyacano - frequent recent drums Pygmy Beat Augmented: Joe Mizzi - recent vocals Gerry Steele - lead guitar solos; Greg Loyacano - drums ray cochrane - basses, guitars, bad cello, percussion; Pygmy Beat Extended: Patricia Vogelenzang - vocals Erik - Drums & Percussion; Greg Loyacano - Drums & some guitars; Gerry Steele - most lead guitar solos; ray cochrane - basses, guitars, bad cello, percussion; Rob Green - vocals & lead - Listen Like Brian; Trudy Newell - vocals; Casey Wells - vocals. Miriam & I: Miriam Webb - vocals, arrangements & good cello. ray cochrane - bass, guitar, bad cello, percussion & arrangements. Roland - hand punched programmed drums. The Newlings: Eric Drabwell - vocals, guitars ray cochrane - bass, guitars, cello Bandi - drums
Song Info
Charts
Peak #348
Peak in subgenre #10
Author
Cochrane/Mizzi/Loyacano/Steele
Rights
Cochrane/Mizzi/Loyacano/Steele
Uploaded
August 13, 2011
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.8 MB 128 kbps 5:15
Story behind the song
Lyrics written in about 1977. Music in 2009 and the melody in 2011. Gerry Steele (of the Hamilton Steele Band) play the wonderful lead guitar, Greg Loyacano (Gregor the Terror) is the maestro percussionist & Joe Mizzi (of the superb Joe Mizzi as well as Angels Fall) wrote the melody & did all vocals. The players recorded themselves and sent their parts via the internet.
Lyrics
Haemophiliac Heroes Plastic sheets of moonlight Reflected in cracked glass eyes Neon illuminates suicides Who had never learnt to fly. Time bombs flock to Sunday schools With their leather bridle eyes Where carrion feast on stale thoughts Fattened on open lies. Hidden, luminous, backstreet warriors, metamorphosed denizens of the deep, Reduced pseudo-Casanova rapists, Through lost innocence they creep. And they, finding Lady Love In the form of a young girl Unleash a thousand lost fantasies Almost none of which unfurl. Cellophane-clad merchandise Again tread the beaten path & where new Freedom’s vanquished moments Sail winds of the aftermath. CHORUS TWO But multilingual electric deathcries Simply shatter their perspex minds & yet again their testament is sworn Across a thousand neon signs. VERSE THREE All too soon the collector Undertakes his evening rounds Charged to extract the final payment Be it cash or flesh by pounds. Phosphorescent plastic daydreams Now crowd into the cell Switchblade waving gladiators In horror turn to gel. And the lying, crying, moulded dollies Who would once strut and dance and pose Just a short step from teenage rubber queen To a middle-aged rubber hose. Hidden, luminous, backstreet warriors, metamorphosed denizens of the deep,
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