Drawing A Blank (2009)

Produced by Don Kerr, Flickershow’s debut LP begins with a sting, and ends with a warm, soft shimmer. A labour of love recorded sporadically over the course of two years, this eclectic disc offers a little of everything from simple country ballads, to grand orchestral gestures. Clever wordplay and close harmonies abound, along with plenty of hooky melodies. Enjoy!

Buy it now from Silverbirch Productions: $15 (CD+MP3) or $10 (MP3 only)

Tracks: Mute / Linger / Hold Up Donnie / Invincible / To The Nines / Catch-22 / Erratic Satellite Aphrodite / The Siren of Queen Street / England Bring Her Home / Still Life

Credits

Julian Sark: vocals, acoustic guitar
Eli McIlveen: bass, backing vocals, guitar, percussion, horn and string arrangements
Richie Weisdorf: keyboards
Don Kerr: drums and percussion, cello on 5

Stefan Rettig: trumpets on 1
Dominic von Riedemann: guitar on 4, 10
Andrea de Boer: violins on 5
Ramidonya: Fat Bob and Sirensong on 8

Produced by Don Kerr and Flickershow.
Recorded and mixed by Don Kerr at Rooster Studios, Toronto.
Mastered by Jeff Carroll at Bluefield Mastering. Sleeve design by Eli McIlveen.
All songs by Flickershow (SOCAN).

Lyrics

Mute

pinkerton, how the hell are you? that a new parka? i’ve never got one to stay waterproof — or look that good. mother mcrae, what a winter! jesus it’s freezing. i practically live in long underwear. how ’bout you?

christine is leaving me
just say it
just say it

don’t get all reticent on me, how’s the old ticker? still pumping off all of its cylinders? you lucky dog. i so much glance at an omelette and i get chest pains. i’ve got to count every calorie that i eat.

christine is leaving me
just say it
just say it

do you think houston will make it into the playoffs? i figure it’s gonna be anaheim and montreal. listen, now, don’t be a stranger. it’s been a real slice. i’ve got to meet with some associates — you take care.

christine is leaving me
just say it
just say it

Linger

love, linger with me
on a bench in the park by the swings and the deep blue sea
let the fruit of your lips slowly ripen in the sun and slip
into the bowl at the base of my neck and the bottom of my collar bone
let’s put ourselves at the mercy of our desire
let’s turn our limbs into kindling for the fire
for the fire

sand sealed in a glass
with a hole in the floor where the future becomes the past
knock the thing on its side, drop a dictionary on it, hide
from what it means: numbered days, single file marching blindly off the mezzanine
let’s tear a year from the calendar, stop the clock
let’s take the rest of the afternoon, write it off
write it off

so little time for dancing
so little time for hanging around
so little time for laughter
so little time for painting the town

love, come over here
got a hunch if you do this whole city will disappear
not for good, just a while: long enough to do the minute mile
sinful and slow with a loop in the film so the minute lasts an hour or so
let’s find a bed and get into it real fast
let’s ride the edge of the infinite, make it last
make it last

Hold Up Donnie

hey donnie, hold up donnie, donnie hold up
you still got half your coffee left in your cup
hey donnie, hold up donnie, donnie hold up
they nearly killed him, donnie, ain’t that enough
to give you pause? donnie, they broke the law
shouldn’t we try to call
call the police?

oh donnie, god no donnie, put down that gun
you want the rest of your life spent on the run?
oh donnie, listen donnie, listen to you
god damn it donnie, put yourself in my shoes
if you were me would you just let me leave?
or am i nuts to believe you’d do the same?

don’t you dare leave me stranded
leave me framed in the window
waiting, features flattened out
i will not be a photo memento
like the one in your leopard skin wallet
look at me
donnie

don’t go donnie, donnie don’t go
it ain’t so bad if you decide not to show
oh donnie, come on donnie, what will they do?
you touch that doorknob donnie, honey, we’re through
the two of us — finished, i’m serious
i will be on a bus back to des moines

hey donnie, hold up donnie, donnie hold up
you still got half your coffee left in your cup

Invincible

strangely elated
soaked in sun i’m summer sated
i am invincible
no pin can pop me
superman can’t even top me
i am invincible

before you showed there was no hope
there was no hope at all

i was transparent
prince of fools no heir apparent
i was invisible
you were injected under radar undetected
now i’m invincible

before you showed there was no hope
there was no hope at all
but now you’re here beside me dear
i’m feeling ten feet tall

i celebrate you, hope i don’t hallucinate you; if so let me go mad
you can sedate me
let your violet violate me, then we’ll go and meet your dad

i am invincible

strangely elated
soaked in rum i’m silver plated
i am invincible
no pin can prick me
krazy glue won’t even stick me
i am invincible

before you showed there was no hope
there was no hope at all
but now you’re here beside me dear
i’m feeling ten feet tall

i am invincible

you can undress me
have your way then resurrect me
i am invincible

To The Nines

whole life ahead
got my whole life ahead
such a tragedy that i’m already dead to the world
with please do not disturb written on my face
in acrylic paint

hole in my head
got a hole in my head
where the bullets go i save them for my friends or my foes
it depends who lays low when the lights go out
& i shoot my mouth

dog day afternoon in like a lamb on molehill mountain
tight ship at loose ends out on a limb head in the clouds right as rain
i buy all my cliches straight from the runways of paris maine
i’m dressed to the nines

soul in my shoes
got my soul in my shoes
’cause it’s safer there it’s safer not to care i’ll get hurt
lose my head lose my shirt if i open up
i’m a sitting duck

stone in my boot
got a stone in my boot
it’s called memory it digs into my skin & it knows
where i’ve been whele i’ll go is a history
not revealed to me

dog day afternoon in like a lamb on molehill mountain
tight ship at loose ends out on a limb head in the clouds right as rain
i buy all my cliches straight from the runways of paris maine
i’m dressed to the nines

whole life ahead
got my whole life ahead
such a tragedy

Catch-22

i’m lackadaisical
i’m so impractical
i go where my melody takes me
when we get there can somebody shake me?
if i should fall asleep
and dream erotic dreams
i pray that the good lord don’t wake me
in the interest of public safety

it’s me against the world
are you in or what?
let’s even out these odds

instead of something like a spine
i’ve got this yellow streak
the threat of failure pulls a gun
and i’m too scared to speak

i crave relationships
so much it makes me sick
i’ll sell you the rights to the movie
as long as it has tasteful nude scenes
i’ll drop down on my knees
a rose between my teeth
you know i’m a hopeless romantic
and when i’m alone i get frantic

it’s me against the world
are you in or what?
let’s even out these odds

instead of something like a heart
i’ve got this display case
the threat of success pulls a gun
and it don’t get unveiled

it’s me against the girls
are you in or what?
let’s even out these odds

Erratic Satellite Aphrodite

she arrives like eventide with the morning in her eyes
she is dressed in midnight lit by starlight neon-sign bright
she comes on like evensong, lovely as the day is long
like a glass of champagne wearing lipstain drenched in summer rain

for one sip of her lips
i would give all of my worldly possessions
for just one kiss

record gets into a groove; heavy tremors shake the room
little aphrodite gets so wild she kicks off her shoes
i’m in orbit at her side, an erratic satellite
no telemetry her gravity it cannot be denied

in a film — suddenly i feel i’m cast
in a film — maybe then i’d have a chance
in a film romance

i imagine we both meet in the lane where lovers leap
but when i’ve seduced her the producer recuts the scene
then a slow song starts to play and she finally looks my way
it’s a silent feature — i’m struck speechless; we just start to sway

for one sip of her lips
i would give all of my worldly possessions
for just one kiss

The Siren of Queen Street

the siren of queen street calls without speaking, sings without raising her voice
the men of the city, they come to listen; it isn’t like they have a choice
for she has a sweetness like nothing they’ve tasted, a sweetness that stays on the tongue
and she has a spirit honest and gentle, an innocence fierce as the sun

working the words out with a dry mouth, terrified of failure
her customers linger; nervous fingers count change

i’ve been living hollow
and i’ve been living grey
and i’ve been living lonesome
because i’ve never been that brave
but ever since i saw your face
i don’t want to live this way
any more

the siren of queen street pulls down a paycheque waiting on tables for tips
the men order coffee, though they’d much rather shipwreck themselves on her lips
flocks of old poets perch in the corners, bent over proof sheets and pens
no matter how brittle or how disaffected, they all become boys in the end

totally dumbstruck, with their eyes stuck, terrified she’ll notice
so anxious to hear her, to be near her, to change

i’ve been living hollow
and i’ve been living grey
and i’ve been living lonesome
because i’ve never been that brave
but ever since i saw your face
i don’t want to be the same
no i don’t want to live this way
any more

the siren of queen street, lost for a moment
sees both her sisters long dead
stiff fingers lash out from under the surface
white faces float in the depths
under the breakbeat, the crash of the kitchen
under the clamour for drink
under the floorboards, the stains on the counter
under the filth in the sink
the sea…

well it’s now or never, so i wander over, a handful of change in my fist
i lean on the counter; she comes to her senses

England Bring Her Home

she’ll hollow out her bones
throw some clothes in a duffel bag
walk out to the road
down a coke for the jet lag

then she’ll arc through the night
on a trans-atlantic flight
scatter clouds, shadow planes
’til she’s on the ground again
downtown, safe, sound

the curtain shimmers clear
lights go up, and the scene is set
love won’t keep her here
or the last of her cigarettes

yeah, she’ll fly through the dark
like an arrow to its mark
flustered birds, weathervanes
spinning madly in her wake
dust storms, earthquakes

will she ever come back? i don’t know
will she wave a white flag, will she make it on her own?
will she ever come back? oh, england bring her home

will she ever come back? i don’t know
will she wave a white flag, will she tell them where to go?
will she ever come back? oh, england bring her home

she’s bent back like a bow
made to spring at the slightest touch
when it’s time to go
it’ll hurt, but it won’t hurt much

yeah, she’ll arc through the night on a trans-atlantic flight
rattle glass, shower change
’til she’s on the ground again
downtown, safe, sound

Still Life

table pushed under an old oak tree
paper stars strung from each bough of green
roses and incense, shoreline and sunset
ladder and two chairs

places laid: silverware, tinted glass
wooden bowls, napkins in scarlet bands
woebegone gull cries, breakers and blue skies
candle and two chairs

now, this may sound naïve
but I used to believe
that solitude was wealth
i’ve since traded that tune
for a table, balloons
bid reticence farewell

table pushed under an old oak tree
paper stars strung from each bough of green
roses and incense, shoreline and sunset
ladder and two chairs