#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.

 

 

 

 

 

 



This Perfect Solar Storm

Happy Valentines! Yes my dears, Ol' Greville and the Tombstones have the love bug today. And there aint none inoculation.

After the last release which was - and let's call a spade a shitting spade here - shitting dark, love has come to brighten up our day. After the darkness, the light is always the brightest. Sometimes to dangerous levels of brightness. And this love song, I hoped to be the ballad on the album (usual disclaimers), was to be that brightest of things - a dangerous love song.
However, I suspect it may have gone well, a bit wrong, a bit,  you know, Coldplay. Ah well. At least there are no plans to ever record this shambles of schmaltz. Unlike Coldplay. So really, 1-0 Greville and the Tombstones there.

Anyway, I do hope you read this over the candlelit table for two.

Greville and the Tomsbstones presents...


This perfect solar storm

Hair of wild sun flares

Eyes of piercing sky stares

Body over men will war

I have seen her

So many times before

She speaks so softly in E minor chord

Plays a room like pieces on a chessboard

A fire line smile flashes across the dark sky

The sky splinters down

Around where I lie

Tonight air is thunder torn

And I find myself wanting her to keep me warm

In this perfect solar storm

Always, in this perfect solar storm

I’ll stay, in this perfect solar storm

Never go away, in this perfect solar storm

Motives shine bright

Easy to be blinded by her light

Not brushed by the fire

Just trust me

You’re burned on a pyre

You’re but a sacrifice met on the altar

A trophy tribute placed gratefully on her

A fire line smile flashes across the dark sky

The sky splinters down

Around where I lie

Tonight air is thunder torn

And I find myself wanting her to keep me warm

In this perfect solar storm

Always, in this perfect solar storm

I’ll stay, in this perfect solar storm

Never go away, in this perfect solar storm

She’s blazing so hot

For all the things she hasn’t got

To the bone she’s bad

No man minds

Experiences they have had

They lie down prone at her feet gladly

In the temple of this sun goddess deity

A fire line smile flashes across the dark sky

The sky splinters down

Around where I lie

Tonight air is thunder torn

And I find myself wanting her to keep me warm

In this perfect solar storm

Always, in this perfect solar storm

I’ll stay, in this perfect solar storm

Never go away, in this perfect solar storm

I try to keep my distance

Not to be struck by insistence

Path of least resistance

I earth myself

Despite the beat’s persistence

I won’t accept a dance with her tonight

My soul lives in the dark, dies from her sight

She moves with grace

As if she own us and this place

She sways in my direction

I steal myself

How can I resist such perfection?

She makes me think I am the only one

I know I am the lonely one, ashes in her Sun

In this perfect solar storm

Always, in this perfect solar storm

I’ll stay, in this perfect solar storm

Never go away, in this perfect solar storm

And I find myself wanting her to keep me warm

In this perfect solar storm

Ooh, ooh, Ooh-Ooh, Ooh, ooh, Ooh-Ooh

A fire line smile flashes across the dark sky

The sky splinters down

Around where I lie

Tonight air is thunder torn

And I find myself wanting her to keep me warm

In this perfect solar storm

In this perfect solar storm

 

I Don’t Want to Go Off to the Land Of Nod

Hey guys!
If I was recording an alt-gothic album this would be the lyrics for a song on it.
They would be inspired by the arty-doodles of @QuirkyJoe_
They would have this review by @jaffne:
"I am awfully concerned by this...all my childhood sweet dreams and lullabies, twisted! I fear I shall never sleep again! It's like Bucks Fizz's Land of Make Believe, but with a serial killer lurking even more menacingly! *weeps*"

Yip - this would be it, alright:

I Don’t Want to Go Off to the Land Of Nod

I don’t want to go off to the land of Nod,

That’s where the monsters are

They creep, wait and chase me far

If they catch me,

My bones will be gnawed

At dusk I hear the death rattle windows,

World full of creaks and wheeze

Rain drips slow from misery trees

Night winds gust

With malignant blows

Sleep is out where Alien pessimism goes

They stare at me with objective eyes

They experiment to weigh out lives

Then fly away sadly,

In blue Martian UFO’s

No I don’t want to go to the land of Nod

The land of Nod is reached only by some

A Time split alternate universe

A poisoned fog, an evil drawn hearse

It is the landscape

Where the creatures run

When I sleep deepest I talk to the Dead

Past time Folks come to me

I say my peace to set them all free

To non-listening,

Ghosting Extants in my head

I don’t want to go off to the land of Nod

Please don’t take me there,

Place of dark shadow being’s lair

Where nothing is

Without Sense of odd

Night light of the light house, lead me to the shore,

I have had enough of crashing on the rocks

I don’t let the Sandman get too close

Sits in a tower block with a gun

He takes pot-shots at me for fun

Drinking nightcaps

In bloody nightclothes

When I close both eyes I see my dream

She’s lovely, stung lipped and fair

But she’s a soulless nightmare

Just a chemical mix

Of orange and green

I don’t want to go off to the land of Nod

All things in my skull reside here

Everything I suppress in fear

Expressions of all

The ways I am flawed

No I don’t want to go to the land of Nod

Night light of the light house! Sweep weak light around!

I have had enough of falling on the rocks

I don’t want to go off to the land of Nod

That’s where the monsters are

Lurking in labyrinths most bizarre

Razor walls slashed

Nights’ grey fabric clawed

I don’t want to go off to the land of Nod

That’s where the monsters are

They creep, wait and chase me far

If they catch me,

My bones will be gnawed

I don’t want to go off to the land of Nod,

I’ll take pills, sup caffeine too

I’ll transfuse all my sleep into you

If they catch you,

Your bones will be gnawed

I won’t go back to the land of Nod

….

….

Dictaphone’s choppy, cracklingly muffled recording:

[Sexy psychiatrist lady voice] So what was it this time?

[Greville Tombs] Paper dinosaurs and goblin zombie wars. Doctor, what does it mean?

[Sexy psychiatrist lady voice] I can’t tell you, we are both in your dream

But, of course, there is no album - so none of this technically ever really happened.

Hobotalk!

This a fabulous live version of a song which is one of my all time favourites. A lovely thing to listen to when it is late in the night and the cold is starting to encroach at the edges. Hobotalk were a band I heard only a little about and I went straight out and got their album, Beauty In Madness from the local record shop next to the student union. I can't think how my life would have been without it.

Nuclear Fall out

The more I think on, the better this song fits as an end of album track.

One can properly go to town on it, with a 3 or 4 minute instrumental at the end fading into static, scuzz and looping feedback. You know, in your mind.

By my reckoning, I have only 3 more songs to go before this album is complete with its 13 tracks.

You know, for all this is clearly all nonsense, and potentially a form of psychosis, I can’t help but begin thinking as long as I don’t muck it all up with a couple of really awful ones or ones which start to not relate to my fans' alt-gothic lives, like if I was to sing about how much my bling weighs and how many women I own, this must surely be looking like one of the best non-existent albums ever to be not recorded!

Oh! And just like that, another song title has just come into my head!
My bling be so heavy (but not as heavy as all my ladies’ titties put together)

It’s good because it uses parenthesis cleverly.

Anyway, back to this song, what will be the final track on the album (always remember, there is no album):

Nuclear Fall out

Tonight,

Tonight,

Tonight,

Tonight I don’t recognise your face

The expression is all out of place

I can feel all my bones, organs and veins

Wish I was metal ‘n’ cogs, wouldn’t feel our pains

Wanting to move, I am numb

Wanting to speak, I am dumb

Whatever all said and done is now out

Gone have the chances to swing and to shout

We both know what this is about,

It’s a nuclear fallout

Love replaced by hotter emotion

Minds whirr off in splendid slow-motion

Once we washed in pure soft sunshine

Clock’s minute hand now stuck at fifty-nine

Wanting to see, I am blind

Wanting the lost, I can’t find

Used to be the dance not the contest bout

Now we’re trying to win by 10 count knockout

We both know what this is about,

It’s a nuclear fallout

We are down on our knees

We don’t heed our own pleas

Holding on broken and battered by blame

Ghosts of us destined to repeat all the same

Fond memories now are hard

We tend to visit their graveyard

We take others there for morbid days out

But at dusk gates close and we are locked out

We both know what this is about,

It’s a nuclear fallout

We both know what this is about,

It’s a nuclear fallout

We are in our own nuclear winter

So cold that heart beats will splinter

Nothing worth saying; nothing to mention

Strangling freezing iced droplets of tension

We used to find ways to forgive

Now we hate even at all that we live

Through the window we have an infatuation

With people uncontaminated by our radiation

We both know what this is about,

It’s a nuclear fallout

We both know what this is about,

It’s a nuclear fallout

We both know what this is about,

It’s a nuclear fallout

From our shelters we walk out,

To a silent fade-out

Take it away brain…

B-side to Nuclear Fall out

The b-side for the record, Nuclear Fall out - if it existed - is Screw You, John Beaumont.

Nuclear Fall out - single sleeve art

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dealing with the Devil

Here is a song I have been keeping back for a long while. It is purely an album track, if it makes it onto the album. Maybe better as a B-side?

It is one of those songs bands play to show their roots and to appease their hardcore fans.

It harks back to a time when I thought if I wrote for a band it wouldn’t be about vampires with kink-unicorn tendencies but would be basically a Robert Johnson, country/bluegrass outfit.They all have one song about the Dealing with the Devil, don’t they?

Course they do!

So, for the hardcore fans of the band here is a treat:

Dealing with the Devil

 

I walked out with nothing but my dog from the life I once had led

Through the fields, past the farm trucks, over hills from the old homestead

I never looked back, and neither did my faithful hound

We headed with the sun toward the red rust track, that familiar railroad sound

 

I had nothing anymore,

But I had nothing really before

So I figure I was evens on the deal

 

So there I was waiting at the station made of real dry wood,

My dog hollered by the signal post when the Devil before us both stood,

The devil made an offer on my soul for a little fortune in return:

Life would be better, riches brighter, but on a promise, my soul would surely burn

 

I was not my own anymore,

But I was no one’s really before

So I figure I was evens on the deal

 

Well the Devil, my dog and me got on the locomotive, southern bound

To pass the time the Devil cut cards and we played for the bent metal I found

The Devil, well, he kept winnin’ but I was sure he was cheatin’

Because if my luck was improved then by my countin’ it seemed at best fleetin’

 

I was not in the North anymore

But I was never really there before

So I figure I was evens on the deal

 

When the train made its destination, the Devil left me in old Mexico town

He said, “Now boy, look after yourself, be mindful whose loaded dice you throw down”

He turned into a snake and I lost sight of it some ten feet away

When by me a Mexican girl with curled hair gave a walk making her hips sway

 

I may never see a girl like that anymore

But I’d never seen a girl like that before

So I figure I was evens on the deal

 

[Guitar solo]

 

I’m lying at the stoggie end of my death bed, by me is my ever darling wife,

Saying: “I don’t want you to go, though we’ll meet up in Heaven where we’ll share eternal life”

But I see the Devil leaning on a cane with a glint in the corner of the room:

He says of my departing life: “You’ve had your fun, and I’ll have my share soon”

 

I had no way out from fate anymore,

But I had planned no escape before

So I figure I was evens on the deal

 

I played Jack betting with my soul and now the Devil has it won,

I think back through my time: girls, glory and wine, was it worth what I’d done?

The Devil spoke: “See, old man, it’s about time we were going, the train’s at the station”

I feel pale breath, the Devil’s cold glee, “Now for the never-ending damnation”

 

I had no path to Heaven anymore,

But I’d not asked for directions before

So I figure I was evens on the deal

 

Oh-oh-oh! With the Devil’s dice, it don’t matter what you roll

Sevens or snake-eyes, they numbers always come up for losing your soul

Oh-oh! With the Devil’s cards, it don’t matter how many of the aces are in your hand

Hearts, Clubs, Spades, Diamonds: all burn the same wherever they land.

 

Oh-oh-oh! The Devil will tempt away your life’s opportunity

With sins of lust and greed on a spin “it’s a man’s dream” the devil will say

Oh-oh! But it’s a conjuring trick in plain sight, no sleeves, for your soul he to steal

To make you figure you are evens on his deal. Evens on his Deal!

The King of Neptune

After the success of The Unicorn Song, writing another track became tricky. Writing lyrics for an album track is difficult. Trying to write pretend lyrics which are good enough for an album which doesn't exist, but not good enough to be considered for a fragmentary single is a fine line.

In the end I wrote parts of 3 songs. I noticed that each was deeper about love than the last. I made the decision to work on combining the songs into another single quality track.

But this needs to stop. I am not trying to write a fictitious "Best Of" album for my imaginary band after all!

So, here it is:

The King of Neptune

If I was in your thoughts right now, I’d collect them in a glass jar

If I caught your gaze, I would keep it closed in a locket, for all my long days

If you touched me, it’d be like touched by a ray beam from a star

If I caused your lips to smile, I’d change my eyes for a camera

If I could record your talkin’, in case you say my name, I’d play it on my walkman

If you touched me, it’d be like touched by a ray beam from a star

If I captured your attention, I would do all I could to cage it forever

If I could harness a spark, from your synapse, night’s bulb would never be dark

If you touched me, it’d be like touched by a ray beam from a star

But she doesn’t see me, doesn’t know I exist

But I won’t give up, I will persist

I love so much of her, need to write out a list

I’d look up at the stratosphere,

Marvel at neutrons and protons drifting over here

I’d see galaxies when the evening’s sky is very clear

I’d feel the warmth of solar winds when the skylark appear

If I was the King of Neptune

But if I was the King of Neptune

I would weep a monsoon

My life would lack a happy tune

Cos she won’t sing my love songs

No she won’t sweetly right my sour wrongs

Cos I’m like the King of Neptune

Memories locked in your head,

Secrets and ambitions not revealed, never said,

Only these leave the universe when you are dead

I’d like to stretch up for them, catch them all in my net

If I was the King of Neptune

But if I was the King of Neptune

I would weep a monsoon

My life would lack a happy tune

Cos she won’t sing my love songs

No she won’t sweetly right my sour wrongs

Cos I’m like the King of Neptune

If I caused you to draw breath, I would film it as film noir

If you gave me your time, I’d place it in a box, and never let it unwind

If you touched me, it’d be like touched by a ray beam from a star

If you walked through crowds in my direction, I’dve walked so far

If I sensed your presence in a room, I’d bottle it up, wear it as a perfume

If you touched me, it’d be like touched by a ray beam from a star

If I allow myself to wonder, what it’d be like to keep all of her?

If all for myself, contained safely and neatly upon a cabinets’ top shelf

Elements all, but each need the other, can’t survive as the lone-star

Contained in glass jars, pure and unchanged

Looks, moods, feelings all arranged,

I love so much of her, I’m becoming deranged

But if I was the King of Neptune

I would weep a monsoon

My life would lack a happy tune

Cos she won’t sing my love songs

No she won’t sweetly right my sour wrongs

Cos I’m like the King of Neptune

Please, please, please know only this will do:

I would send my subjects into the sun for you

I would let my citadels crumble into ruin for you

I would catch atoms and reorder them back as you

But I am not the King of Neptune

So instead I grow my hair long to try and reach you
Have jars and containers already labelled of you
Keep notes updated in a ledger of love of you
Write rhymes for mute songs about you

Because that's all I can do.

But she doesn’t see me, doesn’t know I exist

But I won’t give up, I will persist

I love so much of her, need to write out a list

If I was in your thoughts right now, I’d collect them in a glass jar.

Looks boxed, moods corked and bottled, feelings preserved in mylar

Your touch would burn me like a ray beam from a star

If I was the King of Neptune

But If I was the King of Neptune

I would weep a monsoon

My life would lack a happy tune

Cos she won’t sing my love songs

No she won’t sweetly right my sour wrongs

Cos I’m like the King of Neptune

But I am not the King of Neptune

I just feel like the King of Neptune

The King of Neptune - single sleeve art

Here is the CD sleeve art for the latest single.
The B-side (uncredited on the cover) is: Jesus, It's Tough

 

 

 

Although the CD case will be empty, it is something which will look good in record shops, I reckon.