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From the Mourning of the World

by Various Uncivilised Artists

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    From the Mourning of the World is a unique compilation album brought to you by the Dark Mountain Project, the global network of artists, musicians and writers who are crafting new stories for a civilisation in trouble.

    Featuring: an exclusive alternate version of Caesar recorded specially for the album by BBC Radio 2’s Folk Singer of the Year 2011, Chris Wood; BBC Radio 2’s Folk Singer of the Year 2010 Jon Boden; celebrated artists such as Chris T-T and Bethia Beadman (whose track is a duet with REM’s Mike Mills); this is a beautiful compilation of the wild and uncivilised music associated with the Dark Mountain Project.

    Through our IndieGogo crowdfunding page we managed to raise just under £3000 of the £5000 we need to create this beautiful album on vinyl. If you order a copy you will receive the download immediately but the vinyl might be a few months behind. We have a number of fundraising gigs planned as well as selling copies through this bandcamp page so you should have your copy by the end of the summer.

    Thank you for supporting our first venture into creating an album!
    The Dark Mountain Team

    Includes unlimited streaming of From the Mourning of the World via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ... more
    ships out within 1 day
    edition of 400 
    Purchasable with gift card

      £14 GBP or more 

     

1.
stories spoken wheel’s spokes shuttle’s tales woven throats the wild hunt - and omens roll ominous and wilderness and wild-in-this the wild hunts she hunts wilder now stronger now gaining momentum now tearing the walls down smashing the throne thrashing around presage precede predict and not prevail over the wild whose eyes are open whose children are eaten whose dead are lanterns or fountains of youth when the wild hunts for you and when the hunt calls you and when change strips you and false prophets speak for you and the pale horse stands before you speaking in tongues breathing from broken lungs spoken in stories the wheel spoke in myth and fable and legend she hunts for you wilder now stronger now gaining momentum now tearing the walls down smashing the throne thrashing around presage precede predict and not prevail over the wild whose eyes are open whose children are eaten whose dead are lanterns or fountains of youth the spokes hold the spoken told the speechless wheels grind words find words define worlds and reinvent the wheel as the world turns as worms turn stories unlearned and prophecies burned when the wild hunts for you and when the hunt calls you and when change strips you and false prophets speak for you and the pale horse stands before you speaking in tongues breathing from broken lungs spoken in stories the wheel spoke in myth and fable and legend the story spoke in fable and myth and legend the wild hunts she hunts for you the wild hunt
2.
I wake up in the morning and I’m covered in leaves, like I’ve been beaten and abandoned by a couple of trees. I’m torn up by the branches, scratches marking my cheeks and it’s cold. You’d been telling me that matter didn’t matter no more and it got me searching for the answers on the forest floor. Now I’m woken by the thunder at the cracking of dawn and it’s cold. I’m searching for a feeling that might not even exist. It’s like looking for a fog in the middle of a mist. I’ve got a compass in my pocket and a watch on my wrist but I’m lost. I’ve just been following the breadcrumbs that you left in the dirt while ignoring all the signals and the warnings I’ve heard. Now nothing’s keeping me from losing all the things that I’ve learned so I’m lost. Now I don’t want to search no more, for an answer I don’t know no more than I did when I started, don’t want it keeping me awake no more. So I’m in the wildwood where time moves slow, where every piece already knows where it goes and if your memories get buried by the snow, then they’ll thaw out when the spring wind blows. I lied about the future. I lied about the past. I lied to keep the time from slipping by so fast. Now I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t know where I’ve been, so it’s hard to find a place where I fit in.
3.
My brother is worried I’ll be so far from the sea for so long My brother is worried I’m going to get too far gone But does he know he speaks in poetry? Does he know he truly knows me? So what can you tell him? How will you ease his troubled mind? So what can you tell him? I feel the task is not mine But you should know he speaks in poetry You should know he truly knows me When we were children I wished a shooting star into the night When we were children I just wanted to make everything right I think I’ll just tell him that you and I We've learnt how to make the sun shine I think he’ll understand I’ll write some songs and sing them My brother’s words will be in them I think he’ll understand How I can love a man Like you Like you
4.
They closed the airports They closed the stations Nobody leaves here without permission They’ve been putting up roadblocks They’ve been reading their A-Zs Stay indoors with the curtains closed Prepared for emergencies But we’re bored of the curfew And we’re running out of patience With the soldiers on every corner So we’re gonna go out tonight Gonna get ourselves in a real fight Not following any more orders Everybody get up off your knees You know me now too well to leave You know that I would never lie Or keep this stuff locked up inside of me There was never an invasion There was never any monsters They made them up to keep everybody scared Telling lies is the way for them So come and get us if you want us We’re going round to their houses now We’re gonna burn them out of bed You know me now too well to leave You know that I would never lie Or sell you out – I’d rather die And you know me now too well to be deceived I’m not joking around anymore Watch us now we’re gonna start a war
5.
Where you gonna go? What you gonna see? Take my Motherland And sell it back to me We're in so deep now, so deep we can''t see out Take my money please Cancerous disease Nothing I can eat But we're still thick as thieves We're in so deep now, so deep we can''t see out Didn't you think that you had options? Didn't you think that you had choice? Didn't you think that you had options? Didn't you think you had a voice? (oh no) Train is moaning low Nowhere left to go Shirt is off your back Fade from green to black We're in so deep now, so deep we can''t see out Cue karma police Roll on faith through grief Pray to whom you please And hope you still believe We're in so deep now, so deep we can''t see out Didn't you think that you had options? Didn't you think that you had choice? Didn't you think that you had options? Didn't you think you had a voice?
6.
My mum was born in 1942 Her mum was born in 1909 Her mum was born in 1883 Her mum was born in 1861 Her mum was born in 1840 Her mum was born in 1819 Her mum was born in 1796 I know how to live in the land where I was born I know how to live in the land where I was born I know how to live in the land where I was born Her mum was born in 1272 Her mum was born in 95 BC Her mum was born in 2000 BC Her mum was there when they were building Stone Henge for the first time Her mum never saw a wheel Her mum was born twenty thousand years ago Her mum was born two hundred thousand years ago Her mum was a different species I know how to live on the land where I was born I know how to live on the land I know how to live on the land I've just gotta watch Ray Mears to remind myself of it I look out my window all I can see is cars Then I close my eyes The cars disappear I'm sitting in a cave Looking out over the sea Surrounded by my tribe We're singing And shelling shellfish and chucking the shells out on the midden It's the stone age We love it It's the stone age We love it We love it We know how to live We know how to live We know how to live I love sitting by the midden With you I love sitting by the midden, shelling shellfish and chucking the shells out on the midden With you I love going round the back of the midden With you I love my life and I know how to live it
7.
My heart is like a creaking weeping pumping joke at best But my love is gaining value like an antique in a chest you might have to sell the things you need for that hungry mouth to feed But please don't flog me off so cheaply cos I know, yes I know there's better places you could go Where you'll want for nothing And always get the things you need But if your heart should ever wander to a life we'll never lead your dreams are always welcome here, yeah your dreams are always welcome here Well the world is full of trouble, sorrow and pain Since you packed up your suitcase and got back on that train You make it purdy up country but round here's where I'll remain You see I can't just get out so cheaply Cos I know... Well you can chat all you want and you can like all my links But there's more to married life than this I can't help but think So many ways to interact But lonesome is still a fact That I can't just get away from so cheaply So I keep taking the piss where I can't take the bills And you keep taking the tube where you can't run up the hills I don't have nothing to give except the life that I live But I'd have promised it to you so cheaply And I know, yes I know...
8.
Dressed up in our Sunday best Canon Davis leads the rest Like last year and the year before Who remembers what it’s for? But the solemn march proceeds Over pavements over-grown with weeds And everybody’s Sunday best Has seen better days to say the least The mayor’s robes are torn and creased And Abraham Brown is whistling Britannia Pleasantries are much the same So many years so little change And no one thinks to question why And no one looks you in the eye Past the long neglected cars Rusting in suburban yards Wearing ceremonial frowns Round the village up and down Bless the people, beat the bounds While Abraham Brown is whistling Britannia Pause a while by Nine Elms Reach For Ahab Smith to make his speech Fuel the hatred, stoke the fear Same as he does every year But then a different voice descends (from) From a rusted old Mercedes Benz A ragged girl of 21 Sits laughing in the winter sun And we’re the figures of her fun And Abraham Brown is whistling Britannia Sat behind the broken wheel Soft-top gone nothing left to steal Broken shades upon her eyes Oblivious to cloudy skies Laughing at her own regrets Smoking homemade cigarettes One man’s parade is another’s farce The emperor’s clothes revealed at last Our innocence like Eve’s has passed And Abraham Brown is whistling Britannia The pride of man is a brutal thing And fragile as an insect’s wing The bubble burst, the march resumed Half muttered outrage salves the wound But as we leave I turn to see The scourge of our society Enthroned in her audacity The wielder of cruel mockery I think she maybe smiled at me While Abraham Brown was whistling Britannia
9.
Georgia, gentle Georgia, honeysuckle bloom, Won't you be my gentleman and bring me to your home? Georgia, gentle Georgia, stranger still... When can I come to fetch the strawberries with you? Just like the little girl who lives next door, Will you ever care for me half as much as her? Adora, Isadora, I hear you say, And Georgia, gentle Georgia, will always be this way... For she has your mother's name, your legacy, your blood, your bairn, And Georgia, well, I feel the same. As you cleared the boat upon the lake of all its leaves, You cast out your ring like the winter there, your silver hopes and fears Slipped away from your grasp as once a son... Down it sunk for all the years, heavy hearted, gone. Georgia, gentle Georgia, I would be free, Love the baby son you lost by proxy. But somewhere there in my mind's eye, I knew for sure, I could see that ring a glistening, the ring you loved and more... Georgia, gentle Georgia, Oconee River Wild, And I can swim to you, all the way from the British Isles, And I'm sure I can find your treasure and your child Somewhere there in the crystal cracked river bed, your history and your denial... But all this writes because of she, honeysuckle bloom, Won't you be my Gentleman and bring me to your home To adore her and adore her, for Georgia's sake? See how I knew I'd fetch your treasure from the lake! And there's another verse, unspoken, but yet true… Why do I sing of that little girl and what she means to you? And who was I when I was she? And why do you love your mother most? And why is our love like a love's ghost when we've lost what we've lost and we choose what we choose? Oh Georgia, Georgia, blue…. When can I come to fetch the strawberries with you? And when will you come to pick my strawberry heart too?
10.
11.
God help America You can fill the air with tears And you can cut those sinners down But it all falls on deaf ears For your God wont hear you now He won't hear you now. God made the natural world Then he filled the plains with hate Put dust inside the ventricles And eyes behind iron gates No love can get through now It can't get through now. He won't even notice you when you call his name to praise him Sin against America Just to breathe becomes sin now Purveyors of each sweet perversion Well, each one seems sweet, somehow But your mouth can't taste it now Your mouth can't taste sweet as anything but sour And it wont take a motorcade To let you know we are afraid He wont even notice you when you call his name to praise him
12.
There's a moment When I'm thinking of you That's half revealed In gold or in blue Sun dissolving Dying the sky From blue to gold But no Midas am I To the river End of the night Golden river Watch the water ignite Wind beginning And bending the past Into the now In unending blasts And I've written You since you began But now you're real And we hang hand in hand To the river End of the night Golden river Watch the water ignite Half remembered Your whispered surmise Becomes the breeze And closes my eyes Empty wanderings Led me to you And hand in hand We fade out of view

about

From the Mourning of the World is a unique compilation album brought to you by the Dark Mountain Project, the global network of artists, musicians and writers who are crafting new stories for a civilisation in trouble.

Featuring: an exclusive alternate version of Caesar recorded specially for the album by BBC Radio 2’s Folk Singer of the Year 2011, Chris Wood; BBC Radio 2’s Folk Singer of the Year 2010 Jon Boden; celebrated artists such as Chris T-T and Bethia Beadman (whose track is a duet with REM’s Mike Mills); this is a beautiful compilation of the wild and uncivilised music associated with the Dark Mountain Project.

Through our IndieGogo crowdfunding page we managed to raise just under £3000 of the £5000 we need to create this beautiful album on vinyl. If you order a copy you will receive the download immediately but the vinyl might be a few months behind. We have a number of fundraising gigs planned as well as selling copies through this bandcamp page so you should have your copy by the end of the summer.

Thank you for supporting our first venture into creating an album!
The Dark Mountain Team

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released June 10, 2013

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Dark Mountain UK

The Dark Mountain Project is a network of writers, artists and thinkers in search of new stories for troubled times. We promote and curate writing, art, music and culture rooted in place, time and nature.

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