Tuesday, 24 December 2013

A Grevilly Christmas!

I tweeted the lyrics as #grevadvent in December 2013 and this is what's behind the 24th door! Welcome grevadventurers!

This is the #grevadvent tweets collected and presented as the Greville and the Tombstones' Christmas song!!

It is not exactly #altgothic and not the usual romance ballad, but if it was good enough for The Darkness not to take themselves too seriously for once and to do a one off novelty seasonal track, then it is good enough for ol' Greville and the Tombstones.

I hope it gets all fans of the band and indeed everyone in the festive mood! It ticks all the boxes - Santa, mistletoe and tinsel.

Imagine, like, loads of sleigh bells being jingled during it, too, if you want.

It'd definitely get onto Now This Is Christmas! if it was actually a song.

The B-Side would be a 7 min composition called: Santa's Right For Dub.

Merry Seasonal Times - one and all!

Here is the single cover:



On the Naughty List

*Those lyrics in italic are sung by She Scoops Out Owls For Hats or another darlin'.

[Sampled curt 1964 BBC styled male voice] We all go in, we-all-go-out, we all go in, we-all-go-out

I aint getting a present this Christmas
I aint getting a nutmeg, mistletoe kiss
Saint Nick checked and here’s a twist
My name’s twice on the Naughty List
 
Oh… I’ve been bad
Made my pretty darlin’ sad
When she impales the angel on top of the tree
Well, I think she’s thinkin’ of me
 
Oh-ho…
 
Snow layin’ and deep’nin’
Low as sobs of my darlin’s weepin’
When she hangs her stocking at the chimney
Well, I think she’s thinkin’ of me
 
I aint getting a present this Christmas
I aint getting a nutmeg, mistletoe kiss
Saint Nick checked and here’s a twist
My name’s twice on the Naughty List
 
Oh… I’ve been bad
Worst Christmas we have had
When she puts down Mary in the nativity
Well, I think she’s thinkin’ of me
 
Oh-ho…
 
Orange n’ cinnamon nights,
Outside glitter and tinsel frost bites
When she carves up the Christmas turkey
Well, I think she’s thinkin’ of me
 
Whoa-ho…
I’m strung out on merry lights, Strung out on those berry lights
 
If you hope to get absolution,
You’ll need more than keepin’ a New Year’s resolution!
 
Oh Darlin’! I can change, don’t fear,
I’ll get Saint Nick to score my name off twice next year.
 
Some piece of work you turned out to be,
I know you aint ever were thinkin’ of me!
 
No–ho-ho…
 
I aint getting a present this Christmas
I aint getting a nutmeg, mistletoe kiss
Saint Nick checked and here’s a twist
My name’s twice on the Naughty List
It’s a twist ‘cos my name’s twice on the Naughty List

[Sampled US 1950’s girl group] Jing, jing, jinglin’ an’ Jing, jing, jinglin’ on, an’ [to quick fade-out]



Saturday, 28 September 2013

Another battler of soulweeds

This is another set of lyrics. Or rather this is not another set of lyrics. If these lyrics were an actress they would be Kirsten Dunst.

Not perhaps the tastefully lit REM video where I (sorry, we) have an invite to fall for the pure innocent essence of Kirsten all over again.


Kirsten *sigh*


No, they would be Kirsten Dunst singing an early 80's hit in a less than comfortable manga p0rny styled music video.



That's why these just are not another set of lyrics.

These lyrics are a continuation of the New Mermaid Sound for the new album and I am fond of them.


This is you favourite imaginary alt-gothic band!!

Another Battler of Soulweeds:

I’m battling the Soulweeds heavy today
Not complaining, I have found a way
As they say
A shallow grave still has heavy soil
The digger needs a spade down with toil
And the dirt feels like clay
For you, I battle Soulweeds
When I think of all your past deeds
You equipped me with all my needs
To go battling Soulweeds
I’m battling hard to even get moving today
As mist on a tune, I hang onto a cold day
It’s all grey
Like a derelict web on a winter tree
I cling shivering onto what used to be
Emotions caught me good
For you, I battle Soulweeds
When I think of all your past deeds
You equipped me with all my needs
To go battling Soulweeds
I’m battling shadows slow-jamming today
Hurt you gave me, Just chemical odelay
I am OK
Your actions planted the seeds
And now I am battling Soulweeds
Just battling against Soulweeds
I’ll face those Soulweeds, they won’t win!
I’ll look them absolute in the eye
I’ll battle those Soulweeds, won’t give in!
I’ll cut them down, watch them die
I’m battling passion storms blowing today
I am in a nihilistic, Combat mood way
Loaded misery
I’m a lone tragedy taking a walk
Tell by bloodied eyes, had ‘nuff talk
About all this today
For you, I always battle Soulweeds!
When I think of all your past deeds
You equipped me with all my needs
To go battling Soulweeds
To go battling Soulweeds
[we battle soulweeds we battle soulweeds we battle soulweeds we battle soulweeds]

Saturday, 21 September 2013

God created you mortal but I can sort that, baby

Although the second album is mainly about the new, fan alienating sound, I am not Radiohead and so here is a song kind of more in the style of the old, popular stuff.

I like to think that the protagonist in this sweet put lyric is not a scientist with a lab at all, but a Saturday store assistant in Argos with a large store room (an Argos Extra?) who has had too much opportunity to think about the big questions in life between collection points and as a result has gone a bit odd.

I give you:

God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby

God had all the elements to hand
Rolling atomic particles smaller than grains of sand
Thrown into the void, they were set free
Eventually some of them combined and fused to make you and me
What if we’re not a product of design?
What if all this is just an experiment: X over time?
What if God cares not of your life or mine?
What if God is a Scientist, we mistake notes in jotters as divine?
Made with a timer so we'll all eventually die
Life is so simple to stop and squeeze out a last sigh
Innards fail, madness prevails in milky eye
A scientist needs to find a God Clock vaccine and that scientist is I
God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby
God didn’t make you immortal, but I can if you’d let me
I can put a glass panel in your abdomen bare
Doctors will see your organs healthy pink with no tare
You’ll live forever so long as days remain fair
If you’ll only let me sew solar panels into your long greying hair
God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby
God didn’t make you immortal, but I can if you’d let me
I’ll replace weak flesh muscle for a carbonate part
Giving you motion, a 12 volt battery is only the start
I’ve planned you out on a systematic Gantt chart
Shockproof wheels, springs, pistons and brass valves for a heart
God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby
God didn’t make you immortal, but I can if you’d let me
But if you're to survive, you first need the cut of my knife
Death’s never solved in stories without elegant sacrifice
For you to live, I need to cut out God's clock
Replace it with one I have in the back, from my own stock
God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby
Live! Live!
I couldn’t stand myself thinking of saying goodbye
I kept you in my lab, knowing Death was a goddamn lie
Stab! Stab! Have to find your clock as moments tick by
As life flows in tubed osmosis, I think I see you leak out a cry
And I cry too,
You see I'm giving you the last clock in store,
Not sure we'll get in any more
I now have someone like you to live for,
So my inevitable death is cruel






Sunday, 15 September 2013

The Mermaid See Blues

Unicorns were so last album. That's not what the kids want no more. Now Greville and the Tombstones is bringing Mermaids back.

Yeah - all about the mermaids with the alt-gothic kids.

Here is the first tuneless song for the second not real album by an imaginary alt-gothic band:


The See Mermaid Blues

My soul down as a shipwreck
Shoals of demons swim above
The sunken treasure of my love
I swam through, sweet mermaid,
Seaweed the deadly nightshade
Of sea-witch brew
Wanting to be with you, dear
But far-off stars you wish upon
Are merely fluorescent plankton

Your big eyes paler blue
Than any love so true
That could ever be
I didn't see
They were the bolt not the key
Your sea chest,
Davey Jones locker

I thought you were so attractive
But it was just the refractive
Nature of the water
Oh Yeah, oh yeah
It’s a curse
I see mermaids

There is no second album. Here is the second album cover

We all know there was no first album. And we all saw how that worked out. So it makes sense that there is no second album. That's just philosophy. And potentially mathematics.

The name of the second album is:

Battlers Of Soulweeds, Purveyors of the Ahool

And this is the album cover!


 
 
#thereisnosecondalbum



Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Just one of the reasons #thereisnosecondalbum

Fans of Greville and the Tombstones will likely have been wondering why there has been no #nosecondalbum news recently. Well it is because I have been writing an EP for another fictional band.

Obviously.

Office based data input band Dick Mattriss and the Publicists (@DickMattriss) asked if I could write lyrics to some song titles in order to help create their EP: Good Day For A Riot.

I duly obliged.

I really enjoyed the process and I hope that the band get a number 1 record.

Here are the song lyrics published for the EP. Remember, these are not Greville and the Tombstones' tracks. Do not read them in your inside voice as Greville and the Tombstone tracks. Because Dick Mattriss and the Publicists have a totally different vibe. And also have written some super cool real tunes to go along with them.

Scroll to the end of this blog to hear the fabulous catchy tunes, @manlyjpanda has written for some of them.

Hope you like them!




"Good Day for a Riot"
"Server Outrage"
"Minstrels Everywhere"
"Dawn of the Dead"
"P.A.N.T.S"
"Hydroboil"
"Useful Paige"





"Good Day for a Riot"
 
Hey! The sun is stroking my hair
Smell of fresh cut grass in the air
There’s not a cloud in the baby blue sky
No! Not even tear gas gonna make me cry!
 
Yeah! It’s a good day for a Riot!
 
Hey! Girl’s in tops, shoulders bare
Sunhats, long legs and cassette player
There’s not a cloud in the baby blue sky
No! Not even tear gas gonna make me cry!
 
Yeah! It’s a good day for a Riot!
 
Hey! We only want The Man to care….
Come On! Treat us right, treat us fair!
We want to ask the questions, man, why No!
Won’t put up with another goddamn lie
 
Yeah! It’s a good day for a Riot!
 
Hey! We only want The Man to care….
Come On! Treat us right, treat us fair!
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Hey! T
 
his scenic location is the best
But we ain’t staging a sit-down protest
Got a scarf to hide my face, a cricket bat
Now! I am feeling like the coolest cool cat
 
La! La! La! La! La! La! La!
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
 
Hey! Interest in revolutionary aim
A blowout of emotion is why I came
I want to party hard as well as protest
Maybe smash up a local branch Nat West!
 
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
 
It’s a good day for a Riot!
 
Hey! We only want The Man to care….
Come On! Treat us right, treat us fair!
Hey! We protest against your big idea
That great power is held through fear
Power comes with great responsibility, man!
That’s straight from the Amazin’ Spiderman!
 
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
It’s a good day for a Riot!
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Yeah! Riot! Yeah!
 
 


 
 
"Server Outrage"
 
Legend tells of a man
Stood seven foot tall, wide as a wall
Held a steel colt in his left hand
He was
A hombre
 
Well the legend goes
When the die is cast, he rides in fast
My dice threw up double woes
This was
A set stage
 
Must’ve been in Ninety-four
Darkened my stead, thought I was dead
Cocked that revolver at the door
It was
A 12 gauge
 
Before he could take his aim
I says do your worst, but can I ask first?
Cowboy, what’s your name?
He said,
“Server Outrage”
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
Pushes by me into the room
In a spit in the eye, sure I was to die
Ambience the shade of doom
Writin’s on
The last page
 
Tossed his hat to the ground
And as it spun, he aimed just his gun
Blasting at what he found
He has
Server Outrage
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
He shot that box like it was the devil’s hoard,
3 times he pulled the trigger at the circuit board
We would be reduced to communicating through faxes,
now we had no more hard drive server access
That network stood no hope
His six-shooter flared at the hardware
Too little RAM to cope
A rat
Wheel in a cage
 
Said, “Server’s had enough”
So full of holes, like tramp’s shoe soles
He said he doesn’t bluff About his
Server Outrage
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
Then this big man was gone
Job now done, walking to the sinking sun
I can’t network a CD-ROM
After this
Server Outrage
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
I’m here to say ‘tween me and you
Of a big man, steel colt in his left hand
The legend is true
Of cowboy
Server Outrage
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
When you find your server bad
Terminal’s useless, connection fruitless
Chances are you’ve had
A Visit by
Server Outrage
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
Server Outrage
SERVER OUTRAGE!
 
 

 
 
 
"Minstrels Everywhere"
 
There are minstrels everywhere
Everyone is a troubadour
All bodies have songs to play
Some minstrels harmonise
About their men dealing lies
Others sing in 4-bar blues
About the bad paths they choose
Others still Talk about things they kill
Even if it is themselves
 
There are minstrels everywhere
Everyone is a troubadour
All bodies have songs to play
There are troubadours
Who’ve trouble with their whores
Pimps, Daddies or bitches
Electronic beats, stuttered glitches
Press Drum Fill Subwoofers in this vehicle
To drown out insecurities
 
There are minstrels everywhere
Everyone is a troubadour
All souls have songs to play
There are bodies all round
Sing about what they have found
And what they stand to lose
If they should light the short fuse
Some are ill Others need no such pill
Than their own bitter loss
 
There are minstrels everywhere
Everyone is a troubadour
All souls have songs to play
There are Minstrels everywhere
Everyone I see has a song to share
Songs rattle in their heads
Even when they don’t feel them
There is still More than an album to fill
Of all the unheard songs
 
We Are all buskers on Life’s street corner!
Our music isn’t played for ya!
It is a private tune sung
But I’d like to hear just one
About me
 
We Minstrels, Troubadours and Folkies
We sing our life’s in our own keys
Many are silently sung
But I’d like to hear just one
About me
 
Minstrels everywhere
But I can’t here any sung
That tells me I am one
That’s worth a care
 
 
 
 

 
"Dawn of the Dead"
 
Dawn of the Dead
Is sleeping in my bed
Or at least I think it so
Hard to tell when she breathes low!
 
Flawless perfection
Translucent complexion
Extremities drawn so cold
Ice lips unbroken from tales untold!
 
Dawn of the Dead!
She is my one and only!
Dawn of the Dead!
Death needn’t be lonely!
When you’re down with me!
 
Dawn of the Dead
Crime she was buried
Won’t deny I really dig her
Did I just see the bed sheets stir?
 
Shroud, white as snow
It gives an eerie glow
Under the curdling moon
The wolves sing out in tune!

Dawn of the Dead!
She is my one and only!
Dawn of the Dead!
Death needn’t be lonely!
When you’re down with me!
 
Life or death don’t mean much, when I am with you!
Bed, coffin or sarcophagus – as long as there’s room for two!
 
Dawn of the Dead!
She is my one and only!
Dawn of the Dead!
Death needn’t be lonely!
When you’re down with me!
 
 



 
"P.A.N.T.S"
 
SPOKEN:
Zurück in der Zeit vor der Zeit
So niemand weiß genau wann
gab es fünf antiken Götter der Männer
 
Part of me wants out of here
A part of me wants out of here
No use pretending I like it here
Talking’s over I made it clear
Silently I’d like to disappear
 
Yeah, yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah!
 
When she walks in the room I must confess Yeah,
when she walks in I couldn’t care less
When she shows me her Pee Ay En Tee Es
 
Packed in a corner of disdain
A dependant life is on a chain
No use for 90 percent of my brain
Ticking boxes what does it gain?
Sacrifice aint worth some pain
 
When she walks in the room I must confess
Yeah, when she walks in I couldn’t care less
When she shows me her Pee Ay En Tee Es
 
Pee Ay En Tee Es
Pressure, anxious, neutered tense stress
I couldn’t care less
 
Perception is a shifting empire
Automobiles slow on a flat tyre
Nothing will burn without a fire
Takes two to make one a liar
Someone’s always up for hire
 
When she walks in the room I must confess
Yeah, when she walks in I couldn’t care less
When she shows me her Pee Ay En Tee Es
I couldn’t care less
 
SPOKEN: Sie dachte, ich redete Ihr Jahr!
Aber ich bin singen, singen in der Zukunft in der Zukunft!
Singen in der Zukunft! Nicht von Now!
 
 
 


 
"Hydroboil (Discolust)"

[Fade in]
A cliché as old as sin:
When this chick walked in
Damn Earth stopped movin’
When she began groovin’
On the mortal coil
 
Chick danced the rhythm
Of soul’s little destruction
Silhouette lava to the beat
Swaying up to the heat
Of this hot turmoil
 
I am no sinner-man
But If anyone can then you can
Make me bubble girl
Gonna let you get me into Trouble girl
 
Not often I say this!
But I want to taste your kiss!
Dear Lord, you make me hydroboil!
 
Made sure our eyes met
Saw through night’s sweat
I followed you all way down
Held the gaze of eyes brown
Moment cannot spoil
 
Body twists giving idea
Of what I hope is sincere
Hints of a come on motion
Ask for my total devotion
To be your evening foil
 
I am no sinner-man
But If anyone can then you can
Make me bubble girl
Gonna let you get me into Trouble girl
 
Not often I say this!
But I want to taste your kiss!
Dear Lord, you make me hydroboil!
 
White hot shaker!
Smouldered sweetness!
Not often I say this!
But I want to taste your kiss!
Dear Lord, you make me hydroboil!
Super-heated retro girl!
You burn and fizz!
Not often I say this!
But I want to taste your kiss!
Dear Lord, you make me hydroboil!
Hellfire Maiden!
I’m melting in your bliss!
Not often I say this!
But I want to taste your kiss!
DiscoLust
 
 
 
 

 
"Useful Paige"
Useful Paige is very useful
That’s what all boys say
Useful Paige will do your homework
Make the bad things go away
 
Useful Paige is very useful
The girl you can rely on
Useful Paige will sort out worries
Not rest till they’re all gone
- - - -
Oh! If Paige is all that useful
How come the writing’s on the wall?
- - - -
Useful Paige is very useful
With a Sundae smile
Useful Paige will be your girl guide
Help you all the while
- - - -
Paige, you are so reasonable!
Paige, you have hair so tease able!
Paige, I know you’re useful
with a squeezebox too!
- - - -
Oh! If Paige is all that useful
How come the writing’s on the wall?
- - - -
Paige, the stars come down to you!
Paige, you keep wishes coming true!
Paige, I know you’re useful with a squeezebox too!
Useful Paige is very useful
That’s what idle boys say
Useful Paige will do their handiwork
Make the bad things go away




Please listen to the words made tuneful:

Minstrels Everywhere - click
https://soundcloud.com/manlyjpanda/minstrels-everywhere

Dawn Of The Dead - click
https://soundcloud.com/manlyjpanda/dawn-of-the-dead-demo

Good Day For A Riot - click
https://soundcloud.com/manlyjpanda/good-day-for-a-riot


Personally, Dawn of the Dead is my very favourite.
 
 




 

Monday, 10 June 2013

More Band merch!

You want the sweet lyrics of Greville and the Tombstones hanging round your neck, close to your heart? Well now you can!

Thanks to @Jaffne and her @craftiny shop fans of the band can have the sentiments of No One Hates Me More Than Me or the give the girl in your life the wonderful lyrics of The Unicorn Song in a gothic glass jar pendant!

Your Thieving Hands



Alice
 
 
 
Unicorn Song
 
 
Cool, yes?
 


Sunday, 28 April 2013

It took the body parts of 7 men to make him, but only 1 woman to break his heart, made from 3 men's hearts

There is no album. But if there was then this would be the album sleeve booklet. The band hope you enjoy. There is no band. It is all pretend.




 
 
 
 Click on the tabs below to read the lyrics and see more album artwork. There are tabs.
 
 

Saturday, 9 March 2013

I Aint Your Love Robot No More

Well this is something very special. Even by the standards of a blog detailing an imaginary alt-goth band's pretend songs and imbedding YouTube postcards of music, this is special.

This week I was enjoying putting words which rhymed together on a lunchtime in the office and I realised this was it - the 13th song of the album!

On second viewing, I was unsure if it should make the album. This was not the usual Greville and the Tombstones brand of alt-goth country romance to which fans are accustomed.

To be fair, looking at it a third time and if you considered some of it was marginally euphamistic, then it is potentially a song about an Ess-Eee-Ex toy not wanting to be an Ess-Eee-Ex anymore. Or Metal Mickey not wanting to be thought of a peice of meat anymore by his girl.

Pretty much not Greville and the Tombstones at all. In fact it could be seen as sleazy.

Now I don't know much about why I wrote it, but I do know I am changing my lunch treat back from a Cadbury's Twirl.

So, here it is - and it needs no introduction.

I Ain’t Your Love Robot No More
You expect you can flick a switch to turn me on
I’ll run my coding, check my morals are gone
I’m your robot
As soon as I walk in through the bedroom door
Emotions of the heart dropped beside clothes on the floor
But I have some news for you
My programme breaks in two
And I Ain’t Your Love Robot No More
I need the pain
The feel of guilt
I want to know I can be hurt
I can’t be your love robot
I will calculate your desires, cold touch your needs
As I connect to WI-FI, read updates to RSS feeds
Of sweet nothings
I want to believe we have a pulsating bedroom rapport
That it’s not coolant oil in pistons and circuits which pour
But my techniques are from
A Karma-Sutra CD-ROM
And I Ain’t Your Love Robot No More
I need the pain
The feel of guilt
I want to know I can be hurt
I can’t be your love robot
I am incapable of not doing what you want me to
You’ve installed sub-systems to keep me true
Run command
I remember the sighs, saved them to my memory core
Love’s sweet symphony vibrato, just a statistical score
I compute a million algorithms all for your pleasure
So whose buttons are getting pressed?
When I Ain’t Your Love Robot No More
I need the pain
The feel of guilt
I want to know I can be hurt
I can’t be your love robot
You turn one point four-four floppies into gigabyte hard drives
You know only for you are my magnetic tape eyes
It’s so true
Binary weeps zero add one, I sure can’t go on anymore
I need to defrag my operating system, re-set me I implore
Not just you having a good time
When you tap key Function 9
And I Ain’t Your Love Robot No More
I need the pain
The feel of guilt
I want to know I can be hurt
I can’t be your love robot
You said it couldn’t be, well it can, your Robot has become man
So whose buttons are getting pressed?
When I Ain’t Your Love Robot No More
I can stand up on my own two feet
Now you can’t control-alt-delete
And I Ain’t Your Love Robot No More
And I Ain’t Your Love Robot No More



And with that, the album is done.



#thereisnoalbum

Wednesday, 27 February 2013

Musiciansirs Pt. 1

Here are some of the musicians the band enjoy listening to over in the corner, where the pool table sits unplayed, in a sticky floored, neon lit bar room. Where we are all men (and actual real band member, who is a girl) alone together. And this is simply lovely. And this too!

Monday, 25 February 2013

Musicantresses Pt. 2

These are just another selection of musicians and songs that I like and I hope you do too.





And this is very much Greville and the Tombstones type of thing.



And this:


This is one of my favourite songs - so wonderful and so dark with undercurrent:





And I know, I mean I know but - come on, what a song...




Friday, 22 February 2013

Call me mad, but can I call you Alice?

I had writen the title as a b-side (all title, no lyrics).
Then I thought, what would those lyrics be if I did write them?
So, if I wrote them out, these would be them.
It turned out to be very Greville and the Tombstones.
It is basically a Mills & Boon romance!
I have grown fond of this short homicidal ballad and have decided I would like to put it on the album, if one was being made.

It is...
Call Me Mad, But Can I Call You Alice?
Call me mad, but can I call you Alice?
It is such a darlin’ name to say
It makes me think of rose red apples
Freshly cut lawn on a late summer’s Day
Alice, Alice – I love the name
Alice, Alice– down by the tumbleweed
Alice, Alice – I am to blame
Call me mad, but can I call you Alice?
It is a name where I gets a thrill
It conjures up thoughts of fire-flies
And of the pretty girl I didn’t mean to kill
Alice, Alice – I love the name
Alice, Alice– down by the tumbleweed
Alice, Alice – I am to blame
Call me mad, but can I call you Alice?
She didn’t look anything of you
Her neck was so pale and so tender
Eyes wide open to everyone, lips full of blue
Alice, Alice – I love the name
Alice, Alice – down by the tumbleweed
Alice, Alice – I am to blame
Call me mad, but can I call you Alice?
Your letter writing is real neat
They found her body on the Wednesday
I gave up to the sheriff to face retribution complete
Alice, Alice – I love the name
Alice, Alice– down by the tumbleweed
Alice, Alice – I am to blame
Call me mad, but can I call you Alice?
Thanks for your regular mail
But I can’t see me ever wedding you
Alice, I ain’t ever getting out this lowly county jail

Thursday, 21 February 2013

#thereisnoband #thereisbandmerch



Greville and the Tombstones are so alt-goth they don't exist. There is literally: No Band.

Then I invented #rockcraftsaturday last Saturday when I put on a rock t-shirt and took out 4 coloured felt-tips and invited great friend of the band, craft genius and resident Greville and the Tombstones' artist @jaffne round.

So!

Encouraged by @warriorgrrl and inspired by her utterly fab gloom-pop She Makes War merchandise, here now is the first foray and range of Greville and the Tombstone band merchandise.

Because - and I cannot stress this enough - what is more alt-goth than having actual home-spun merch for an imaginary alt-goth band?

How about a Greville and the Tombstone designed plectrum?

 
None of these have never strummed a guitar. And you can take that guarantee to the Bank. How the bank teller will react to you telling them this, I cannot guarantee.
 
I would like to say I could see the band throwing them out to the enraptured audience, but as we do not do gigs I have not tried throwing genuine Greville and the Tombstones plectrums at anything resembling an audience yet, but when I do, I am sure it will be a delight for the bus passengers on my morning bus commute.
 
How about a some Greville and the Tombstone @jaffne original hand drawn art for any wall in the home?
 
 
Seriously, how cool and alt-goth is that?
 
Finally, how about something for the mantelpiece or office desk?
 
The picture on the kids FIMO mini-kit I bought suggested we could make a sheep
 
And this is, almost certainly, only the beginning. I will post more merch as it is created.
 
Fans should look out on Twitter for future #rockcraftsaturday news on more merch.