Jan 012001
 

Lo-fi indie folk / Lo-folk album.

Debut demo/album. Re-released in 2011 for the 10th anniversary.

  1. Nobody to call [2:32 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  2. A Star Beckons [1:46 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  3. Ridin’ my bone [3:58 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  4. Marshmallow Road [3:27 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  5. Aint got no Mind [2:57 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  6. My little cowgirl [2:52 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  7. Karen [2:39 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  8. Tar Man [3:28 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  9. Just a lonesome girl [2:49 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  10. Devil Boy [3:11 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  11. Teardrop [2:23 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  12. The kindest woman [2:09 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download
  13. Goin’ down [4:08 – lo-folk] ▪ Listen&Download

 

Free music downloads – courtesy of: 

Simon Gylden & National Masterpiece Library, 2000/2011. (Total playing time: 38:19)

 

Lyrics:

 

Nobody to call

Well, there aint nobody to call when you’re gone. No, there aint nobody to call when you’re gone.

Nobody to call all alone once you’re gone.

Cause you’ll be layin in the dirt, playing with the worms. You’ll be alone in the dirt, playing eat my body tonight.

Cause there aint nobody to call when you’re gone. No, there aint nobody to call once you’re gone.

Nobody to call all alone once you’re gone.

And you can lose your clothes and be a dead man nude and be resting assured they aint looking at you.

In the dirt with the worms and your bones once you’re gone.

Cause there aint nobody to call when you’re gone and there aint nobody to impress when you’re gone.

Nobody to call or to fall for once you’re gone.

 

A star beckons

A star beckons over yonder, above the tainted sky and everybody stares in wonder, tears are in their eyes.
Why are we waiting here? Lord, tell me why.

Well, get upon your knees boy and pray the Lord above. God, save me and everyone I love.
Why are we waiting here? Lord, tell me why.

Cause Death is on the one side and Hell is on the other. Everybody’s tryin hard, sister and brother.
Why are we waiting here? Lord, tell me why.

 

Ridin’ my bone

You go around making promises all over town. You say that you’re longing to stay. 
Conceiling your still born son demented and on the run. You’re runnin scared with a case of the runs.

But O baby, you’re ridin my bone. Feel the fire turn inside my soul.
I’ll feel the power of your malignant mole. Babe, we’re turning old.
Oh, yeah, you’re ridin my bone.

Way down town gettin down with the bunny men. The cross eyed guys wavin festering smiles.
All hiding behind contracts you sign. Gold teeth in piles are dotting the line.

Ooh baby, you’re riding my bone. Feel the fire turn inside my soul.

I’ll feel the power of your malignant mole. Babe, we’re turning old.

Oh, yeah, you’re ridin my bone.

Coming back to your childhood dream town. Coming back, breaking your back.
Coming back, down to the tracks. To the fags and the ten dollar crack.

Ooh baby, you’re riding my bone. Feel my power, feel my soul.

I’ll feel the strength of your American mold. Babe, we’re turning old. Ooh, yeah, you’re riding my bone.

 

Marshmallow Road

Skippin down Marshmellow Road in my bare feet, dropping my load.
Slowing your face in the crowd, turning about, doin’ without.

Oh, you’re so beautiful, beautiful, man. Oh, no one can do what you can.

I mean, hey, aint you the one who’s been running with all the babes in the sun.
Lifting these hands to the sky, clouds on my mind wandering by.
Comb back your chrome blond hair under a sun darkened despair

Oh, you’re so beautiful, beautiful, man. Oh, no one can do what you can.

I mean, hey, aint you the one who’s been running with all the babes in the sun.

Now on a pale afternoon, morning erection bent out of tune.

Layin your mother in spite of her evil eyes that will glow in the night.

Oh, you’re so beautiful, beautiful, man. Oh, no one can do what you can.

I mean, hey, aint you the one who’s been running with all the babes in the sun.

 

Aint got no mind

Aint got no mind to tickle your wit. Aint got no mind to take you home.

Can’t find the words to tell you you’re fine. I’m feeling useless like a wallowing swine.

Aint got no mind to keep my head straight, aint got no jokes to keep you laughing.
Aint got no charms, aint got no bait. You’re flyin high and I’m crashing.

Aint got no smiles to wipe your behind and no excuses to fall out of line.
No right to be searching your soul. My minds a cavaty and my body’s a hole.

You’re talkin fast now and you’re aiming low. Nothing I do will ever change you.
One thing is certain, you’re on my mind and I guess you’ll stay though I leave you behind.

I guess you’ll stay though I leave you behind. I guess you’ll stay though I leave you behind.

I guess you’ll stay though I leave you behind.

 

Review Quotes [Danish]:

It Takes A Rocking Chair To Rock er Simon Gyldens bud på en særdeles skrabet sangskrivning. Lige så tilbageholdende han er med oplysninger, er sangene, der iscenesættes med nedtonede vokaler og forsigtig fingerpickin‘ på en udtjent spansk guitar og intet andet. Tolv sange af den slags truer på papiret med både at trætte og kede, men i kraft af sit sensitive talent og lyriske overskud formår Gylden at holde salatredaktøren stangen hele vejen igennem.

Tidens toner banker hårdt på for at nå frem til lytteren, men Gylden har valgt at lade nærværet være skytset, og det klæder ham mere end udmærket. Forbilledet må hedde Woody Guthrie, men den dybtfølte respekt for traditionen og den samtidig legende distance peger tillige i retning af nyere navne som Smog og Sparklehorse.

I det hele taget lyder It Takes A Rocking Chair To Rock som et forfuldent dansk bud på Sparklehorsemanden Mark Linkous’ uregerlige og stemningsmættede musik. Fra den Bob Dylan’ske tone i Nobody To Call over den bluegrass-inspirerede My Little Cowgirl til tungen-i-kinden-kærlighedshymnen Karen indtager Gylden den amerikanske tradition, men tilsætter den et umiskendeligt kontinentalt præg, hvor humoren ofte er i højsædet. Lyt/læs selv: ‘She’s my little cowgirl / We never ever fight / She don’t know much about horses and guns / But she can f*** all night.’ Tilbage er bare at håbe på at publikum begynder at rocke med.”

Gaffa, månedens demo, marts 2001.