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Faith, Folk & Anarchy (Reissue)

by Martyn Joseph, Tom Robinson & Steve Knightley

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1.
We're faced with mile-high piles of money sitting in banks Gold bars, credit cards, aeroplanes and tanks Buy, buy, satisfy, call me when you're rich Cheap food, cows dying in a ditch We're having a hard time Holding the Thin Green Line We're faced with out of town shopping malls, suburban housing boom Inner city empty lots, damp in all the rooms Bulls and bears, speculators, euros, yen And the baby's crying again So come on down to the bottle bank Make your deposit and relax Nothing's going on behind your backs We'll make all the big decisions You just watch the television Smash the brown! Smash the green! Smash the clear! It won't happen here We watch the last of the species vanish from the screens And get replaced by killer dogs and their men on the scene There are peeping toms, pop songs, crime & sin & sex All spewing out on newsprint while the forest dies a death They're cooling down reactors while the natives die of thirst They say let's all pull together - you first They say let's All pull together (you first !!!) Let's all pull together (you first !!!) Let's all pull together (you first !!!) But they never pull together no wonder We're having a hard time Holding the Thin Green Line
2.
Wake Me Up 03:44
I’ve seen a lot and a lot I’ve seen Hope I never stop dreaming if you know what I mean Sometimes it all ends in disarray Sometimes I feel myself slipping away Chorus My soul’s asleep now, wake me up My body’s fading, wake me up My soul’s asleep, come on and wake me up Baby it’s subtle and it does it well I just walk on through underneath that spell Flashing lights and jamboree Baby the world drains the life out of me Repeat Chorus On these streets I’m blind Though the road is signed I gotta look behind to find my way This could be the matinee The remains of the day I try to stay awake but I’m slipping away Repeat Chorus I’ve seen a lot and a lot I’ve seen Sometimes I fall through the gaps in between And then world it begins to sway Pretty soon I can feel myself slipping away Wake me up
3.
4.
I fell in love with the bleak fields and sombre streets of Ieper A place of rain and wide horizons Its renaissance greatness resurrected In the winter mists of fen and flatland. The shadow of tragedy heavy on the landscape... Mass graves, grassy craters - drizzle, silence and bad drains Beer, chocolate and death. I fell in love with impossibly foxy men and women; Boys and girls called Bart and Ilse, Wim, Luc, Annalies, Ariane & Lieve... Faces straight out of Van Eyck paintings Arguing and laughing over beers in bars. Not the bland blonds of Holland & the North But tempered by latin blood, gallic madness And cursed with a fatal romantic yearning My heart longed to know them all by name Killing Fields, in the Killing Fields Sitting here drinking in the killing fields Killing Fields, in the Killing Fields Kissing and drinking in the killing fields I fell in love with a maddening language Ancient, subtle and gutteral: Mouthfuls of vowels, impossible consonants Dialects different in every village; Underpinned by an invisible linguistic rift And the strife of life on an ethnic faultline A land jackboot-trampled twice in a century; The appalling scrawl of spraycan racists Forgetting the terrible lesson of history And eager only to repeat it. I fell in love with a capital city north of Napoleon's Waterloo Multilingual, rich with immigrants With a passion for fashion, food and politics & music African jazz, Parisian hip-hop, Homegrown house and a riotous nightlife, Grand cafés in filthy buildings playing Toots Thielamans & Django Reinhardt Boulevards jammed with trams and taxis The sad, magnificent, sprawling, seedy metropolis At the very heart of Old Europe Sitting and drinking....in the Killing Fields Smoking and joking....in the Killing Fields Living & loving....in the Killing Fields
5.
The Flood 05:20
The southern chalk downland is soaked after weeks of hard rain, The streams that were dry since the war, they’re flowing again, But the water’s still rising, it’s only a metre below The streets of the old county town, it’s got nowhere to go, And the river runs out of these hills, and the cellar is starting to fill. The fields and the farmland lie under their blanket of mud, It’s soaking the roots and the branches; it’s rotting the buds, Round here everyone’s counting the cost of the flood, Cost of the flood Yet under the cruel sun, the desert drifts ever more south, Like the spars of old ships, the cattle bones bleach in the drought, When they’re weary of praying for rain, all the young men are heading for Spain But the shoreline was just beyond reach and now someone lies drowned, Where the lovers stretch out on the beaches that border the towns, Round here everyone’s watching the world spinning round Spinning round So let’s stand on the white cliffs and look over to France, Where hundreds are waiting for darkness to take one more chance, As the trucks in the neon-lit parks become cages instead of an ark Our credit is worthless, the aid and investments no good, When they’re paying their debts with their families, our loans back with blood, Now the dam has been breached; it’s the year of the flood It’s the year of the flood It’s the year of the flood The year of the flood It’s the year of the flood And a rain is gonna fall In the year of the flood
6.
You don’t need to shout You don’t need to cry Paint on the front door Or laugh in the clouds I had a moment’s fear That you can put to flight Just reassure me That we’re alright Are we alright? Are we still strong? We’ve got one last chance So don’t get it wrong Cos I will hold my breath I will count to ten When I open my eyes I will ask again So don’t make me beg Don’t make me plead Leave me with some dignity I will stay cool and calm tonight I just need to know if we are still alright You know it won’t take much To turn black to white Just one gentle touch I’ve been awake for hours I wanna sleep tonight Won’t you tell me That we’re alright? So don’t make me beg Don’t make me plead Leave me with some dignity Are we all right Are we still strong We’ve got one last chance Don’t get it wrong I’ve been awake for hours I wanna sleep tonight Come on tell me That we’re alright Are we alright Are we alright Just reassure me that we’re alright
7.
Hard winds are blowing down the High Street today Just look around you Family firms selling up and moving away And the names that surround you And though they’re familiar you don’t feel at home When you could be in Kansas, you could be in Rome All closing down in the small country towns In the cold heart of England You don’t see the stars when the light’s overspill Is too bright and too strong From hundreds of homes on the side of the hill Just where did we come from? Now we’ve been told to build ten thousand more And cover the countryside we came here for Trees coming down on the edge of the town In the cold heart of England Well it’s Saturday night with the boys in the square The cars and the fights, broken glass everywhere I’ve no picture postcard to send you from there It’s the cold heart of England So it’s grey supermarkets, instead of green fields To pay all our wages ‘Til we’re choking in traffic and tied to the wheels Like cattle in cages And if you work within limits the law will allow You’ll find the land’s under concrete instead of the plough Where are you Swampy? We need you right now In the cold heart of England
8.
Strange Way 04:47
Strange way to start a revolution Strange way to get a better tan Strange way to hold a power breakfast Strange way show your business plan Strange way to test if wood would splinter Strange way to do performance art Strange way to say “I’ll see you later” Strange way to leave behind your heart Strange dissident of meekness And nurse of tangled souls And so unlike the holy To end up full of holes Strange way Strange way to hang around for hours Strange way to imitate a kite Strange way to get a view of Auschwitz Strange way to represent the light Strange way to watch for stormy weather Strange way to disprove gravity Strange way to go around fund-raising Strange way to sing I am liberty Strange dissident of meekness And nurse of tangled souls And so unlike the holy To end up full of holes Strange way Strange way to test for haemophillia Strange way to spend a happy hour Strange way to down a bitter cocktail Strange way to merchandise your power Strange way to reassure your mother Strange way to finish your world tour Strange way to pose for all those paintings Strange way to gather in the poor Strange dissident of meekness And nurse of tangled souls And so unlike the holy To end up full of holes This world is too much with us Could we not now just elope? Strange way to hold us closer Strange way to give us hope Strange way
9.
Stranded in Antwerp in June '54 Streets full of refugees And rumours of war In a queue at the station a stranger arrived You walked up and fixed me with wild hazel eyes But the hotel was crowded - I followed in fright You slammed the door behind us, smashed out the light You said "why try to fight it" - to my racing heart Then we nuzzled like animals And kissed in the dark We wrecked the bed, spent the rent Left there without a cent Drank the fare, never made the train Till 25 I was barely alive And I wondered what hit me When you tattooed me... tattooed me You tattooed me... tattooed me And I wondered what hit me when you came Shacked up in basements behind broken doors Bugs in the blanket, and glass on the floor Cold, broke and hungry, with quarrels and fights Coughing blood thru the winter - I felt so alive And on one fatal day you signed your life away I was too weak for alarm (I was) drunk and asleep As you left for the fleet… you tattooed your name on my arm Yeah you tattooed me... tattooed me Ohh-oh You tattooed me... tattooed me Your name - with a needle - on my arm Ohh-oh, oh-ohhhh, ohh-oh, oh-ohhhh With the peace in Geneva the world crawled away From the brink of oblivion - we all breathed again And when you deserted no more letters came My life cut to pieces, I started again When I was on the mend I drifted to Zaventem Worked there unloading the planes And I paid my way on a thousand a day And I never did see you again But you tattooed me... tattooed me You tattooed me... tattooed me You tattooed me... tattooed me The mark of the needle remains You tattooed me... tattooed me And I knew that we'd never meet again
10.
Please Sir 04:14
She was always a very pretty lady He had always caught her eye They were married in a mining valley And swore they’d be together until the day that they died Twenty years later with the coal all gone And golden lamp in his hand He stands at the bar with a pint in his hand and his friends They all agree together that they don’t understand Meanwhile little David takes his books off to school And learns of the times gone past And when it comes to questions he puts up his hand There’s something that he just wants to ask Please sir can you give me an answer Please sir you know it doesn’t seem fair ‘Cos last night as I walked through the door I thought I saw my father crying sat in his chair She stood there with her arms around him and she said She promised him a better day But after twenty years of working underground It’s not just your job that they take away Sometimes he’d walk to the edge of his world And stare at the valley below He thought about leaving maybe running away But knew there was nowhere to go Please sir can you give me an answer Please sir you know I just can’t see Please sir when you make these decisions Do you have a vision of what happens to me Life goes on in a mining valley But the young men leave for a better wage And every day he coughs and he splutters He knows love is the reason he stays He knows love is the reason he stays Meanwhile little David takes his books off to school And learns of the times gone past And when it comes to questions he puts up his and There’s something that he just wants to ask Please sir can you give me an answer Please sir you know it doesn’t seem fair ‘Cos last night as I walked through the door I thought I saw my daddy crying sat in his chair Please sir can you give me and answer Please sir you know I just can’t see Please sir when you make these decisions Do you have a vision of what happens to me Do you know what happens to the likes of me? Please take a look, take a look now Take a look and see
11.
War Baby 05:06
Only the very young and the very beautiful can be so aloof Hanging out with the boys, all swagger and poise I don't even care what other people are there I just stare and stare and stare I see your shadow in the swimming pool I see your face in the shaving mirror Time and time and time again I follow your footsteps so quietly up the backstairs And I hope and I pray you're never going to find me there Smooth skin and tenderness long ago on a dark night Wish I could see you once again just to remember it was true I want to be still beside you - quiet and still beside you Listening to your breathing and feeling your warmth again War baby - you were a War baby - this means War baby - I'm scared, so scared Of whatever it is you keep putting me through I don't think I could stand another ten years of this fighting All this stabbing and wounding - only getting my own back I don't want to batter you to your feet and knees and elbows When I'm kneeling like a candle at the foot of my own bed Corresponding disasters every night on the TV Sickening reality keeps gripping me in its guts All my friends talk and joke and laugh about Armageddon But like a nightmare it's still waiting there at the end of every day War baby...etc I don't think I could stand another ten years of this fighting All this stabbing and wounding - only getting my own back But later that same evening we were out in the car talking When I suddenly wondered who the hell it was we were trying to fool Co you were the first one that I ever wanted And it's you I come home to at the end of every day Like a mother-sucking baby, demanding and so helpless A little old balding man, all wrinkles and bulging eyes War baby - you were a War baby - this means War baby - I'm scared, so scared Of whatever it is you keep putting me through
12.
I’ve been looking to the time when I first met you. When life seemed so sweet, seemed so right. And I know you never change. I know you never will. But the winds of life have blown me all around I will follow you I must go on and on I will follow Wherever you lead me I will follow on And the lies that they fed me, Are the lies that I lived. And they have their fill, And they leave me all alone As I run across this desert As I run into your arms, I feel the depth of your love Like I’ve never known I will follow you I must go on and on I will follow Wherever you lead me I will follow on And the passion is in my spirit, Is the passion in my soul Keeps me burning, keeps me running on and on I will follow you I must go on and on I will follow Wherever you lead me I will follow on I will follow you I must go on and on I will follow Wherever you lead me I will follow on.

about

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First digital release of the original Faith, Folk & Anarchy studio album recorded in 20001. It was followed by the double album Faith Folk & Anarchy Live recorded on tour in 2002, which is available by mail order from: www.martynjoseph.net/shop/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=83. Original project website: faithfokanarchy.com
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Faith, Folk & Anarchy was temporary band project formed jointly by Martyn Joseph, Tom Robinson and Steve Knightley. The three songwriters first sang together in an impromptu and unrehearsed performance on the main stage at GREENBELT FESTIVAL in 2000.

"Faith Folk and Anarchy" more or less sums up what happened on stage that night - and inspired them to work further together on an album and tour under this name. The album was recorded by MICK DOLAN in Exeter during December 2001

MARTYN JOSEPH - by Steve Knightley
In 1998 the SHOW OF HANDS tour manager, Will Thomas, included Martyn's "Cardiff Bay" as part of our before and after show compilation music. I remember being struck at the time by the strong sense of community and family that the song conveyed. Here was a writer who knew where he was from and what he believed in and who wasn't afraid of being considered parochial or sentimental. We all spent that entire autumn tour listening to that distinctive nasal, tender-tough voice resonating around various concert halls as they emptied and filled and I was eager to meet the man himself. A year later Tom and Martyn were headlining Greenbelt 99 in Cheltenham. I went along to listen and found first myself jamming backstage and then joining them onstage for a handful of impromptu songs. Martyn was as open , approachable and direct as his music had suggested. Indeed in performance he achieves that rare unity where the song, the sound and the person all merge to make one complete statement. And like Mr R, Martyn has that easy access to Rock and Roll dynamics in his playing and singing that allows an effortless gear change from the gentlest ballad to the most raucous holler. After the show we all talked generally about the possibility of a collaborative project in the future. Such conversations almost inevitably come to nought and I'm just delighted that with the help of Chris Jaeger at Speaking Volumes all of our loose talk has born such musical fruit. www.martynjoseph.co.uk

TOM ROBINSON by Martyn Joseph
I first met Tom Robinson on the set of a TV programme in Belfast called 'The Kelly Show' in 1992. I was somewhat in awe as this was a guy I had listened to as a teenager, even then aware that bland mainstream music was never going to cut it for me. The Tom Robinson Band represented energy and passion, and though I wasn't quite sure what it was, they had something to say. All those years on Tom still had it all, but also a gentleness and kindness that soon made me feel at ease and, indeed, welcome. We have remained firm friends ever since and have managed to collaborate on a number of songs and gigs. The most endearing thing for me about Tom is that he is still running with as much passion and insight as he did when I first heard him. He has 'kept the faith' and is very much qualified to hold up the mantle of 'anarchy' provider for this project. As well as a singer of songs, his voice has been found recently on many a radio programme as a presenter. In a business that is so often devoid of clarity, common sense, justice and meaning, he marches on and will stir it up for anyone who will listen. Let's hope we do, and also that he never grows tired of the world's indifference to it all. www.tomrobinson.com

STEVE KNIGHTLEY by Tom Robinson
The term "singer-songwriter" has become badly devalued in the past 20 years. We've all endured the Neil Young / Suzanne Vega wannabe perched on a stool, picking lifelessly at an acoustic guitar and warbling about man's inhumanity to man. This low-octane byproduct of Anglo-American pop is oblivious to tradition - and indeed to realities of everyday life - part of a cultural dislocation that gives us cowboys from Rochdale and bluesmen from Surbiton. "FAITH FOLK AND ANARCHY" has given me the chance to work with two songwriters of a very different kind: artisan performers with grit, purpose and a true sense of community. Martyn has been my friend and musical collaborator for 10 years, but performing with Steve Knightley has been a fresh and invigorating adventure. When I first heard Steve perform his songs full-tilt with SHOW OF HANDS (his duo with PHIL BEER) I was gobsmacked. Here were gripping human stories set in a dark contemporary landscape - expertly sketched by the broad brush of a master craftsman. Songs written for impact - for simple survival in the bearpit atmosphere of the band's early pub gigs. And some songs in the Steve Knightley songbook are so utterly timeless, they're widely performed as "traditional" in folk clubs around the country these days. To me, Steve's writing represents a unique body of work deeply rooted in a sense of time and place. This opportunity to work with both him and Martyn - and to perform their extraordinary and passionate material - was simply too good to miss. www.showofhands.co.uk

credits

released June 16, 2017

Martyn Joseph - acoustic guitar, vocals
Steve Knightley - acoustic guitar, cello mandolin, cuatro, vocals
Tom Robinson - acoustic guitar, bass, vocals
Recorded and mixed by Mick Dolan
Produced by Steve Knightley

All recordings ©2002 by Martyn Joseph, Tom Robinson and Steve Knightley

Cover design - Tom Robinson and Jo Haslam
Photgraphy - Gary Bossier and Joan Barret

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Tom Robinson London, UK

Tom Robinson (b.1950) is a UK songwriter & broadcaster first known in the 70s as an anti-racist and LGBT campaigner. He released 19 albums between 1975-2001 with various bands and has co-written songs with Elton John, Peter Gabriel, Dan Hartman and Manu Katché. He's an award-winning presenter at BBC Radio 6 Music, and released Only The Now (his first album in 19 years) in October 2015. ... more

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