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Posts Tagged ‘Alternative rock’

From Sour To CinnamonMy 21st album, From Sour to Cinnamon, is now available on iTunes, Amazon, Spotify, CD Baby, and other places where music is (still) sold. As I’ve written previously, it’s an album of pop songs with some dark undertones.

The album art was provided by my 8-year-old son Xander.

While the last Salon de la Guerre album displayed my recent obsession with country music, this album is all pop, and most of it was generated with keyboards in Garage Band (though I play guitar on the  the song “A Kid’s Inside,” an ode to youth and play and silliness and joy).

Again, all songs written, performed and produced by yours truly.

Enjoy one of the latest tracks here:

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Tangled in the sun, the bird he flew
Came back, didn’t say what he knew
Came back with a song he knew only as a scream
Came back in a life he knew only as a dream

Wax in my ears, the siren quakes the sea
I don’t know what the sirens sing to me
Basaltic rock you wake dead or as a king
When you hear the sirens sing
Stuffed my ears with the wax from the bees
I don’t know what the Sirens sing

I ate a bird, something that flew
I wondered if it he knew he was through
I fly when I dream and that means I fly
People think they can’t, I don’t know why
Tangled in the sun the bird he flew
Came back didn’t say what he knew

Wax in my ears the siren quakes the sea
I don’t know what the sirens sang to me
Basaltic rock you wake dead or as a king
When you hear the sirens sing
Stuffed out ears with the wax from the bees
I don’t know what the Sirens sang to me

(Lyrics to the song “The Sirens,” now available on the Salon de la Guerre album From Sour To Cinnamon, copyright 2019.)

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The latest Salon de la Guerre album drops this week. It’s called From Sour To Cinnamon, and it’s a slate of big candy-like pop songs with a dark center. Check out this track from the album, set to release Monday.

All the wrongs on this album were made by yours truly, including music, lyrics and production.

“Amphibious Grandkids”
By Eric Randolph Rasmussen
Copyright 2019

Take them to the aquarium
Take them to the Grand Canyon
Set your grandkids loose to swim
While you sit at look at ’em.

The froggy skin and the set of gills
You never knew we’d have them
But these fish were spawned from your loins
You’d never know to look at them

Your grandchild no longer walks the earth
Or plays his video game

A patronymic and a set of fins
And the memory of land
Your legacy in sedimentary rock
Your fossil of vestigial hands
Cause you bequeathed your sons a water world
While you drove your car around

Your grandchild no longer walks the earth
Or plays his video game
Now he plays with a set of flippers
But still has your name

A patronymic and a set of fins
And the memory of land
Your legacy in sedimentary rock
Your fossil of vestigial hands

Cause you bequeathed your sons a water world
While you drove your car around
Once you thought you’d take Manhattan
Now it’s all Long Island Sound

I don’t believe that he glitch-killed me
It was crazy enough to kill you
Amphibious grandkids swim away
Too hungry to be mad at you

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BleedSalon de la Guerre has just released its 19th album, Bleed. It’s a collection of punky, poppy and occasionally soulful songs that sometimes drifts into country-ish singing and which features at least one of my out-of-control guitar solos.

The album is now available on Amazon, iTunes, CD Baby and Spotify, among many other music streaming services in the U.S. and abroad.

I can’t speak for comparisons, but my friends say the album reminds them of Mark Lemhouse, the Pixies and/or Black Francis, Sugar and/or Bob Mould and Matthew Sweet. If you’d asked me, I would have said that I’d had the Rolling Stones, Roxy Music, X and (yes) the Pixies in mind, but only because I always have these groups in mind when I’m doing anything. I have two songs where the harmony vocals are probably the major attraction and I think I sound a little like Seals & Crofts. Not something I would have planned. At some point, your inspiration and direction must compromise with the reality of your voice and what it does well. I often wish I had a Sonic Youth voice, but I don’t really.

I wrote, performed and produced the album and I’m responsible for all the sounds and solos, some of which are on actual guitar, some of which make use of Apple’s wonderful Garage Band software for the iPhone.

Here is a sample of one of the new songs, with lyrics:

“Praise Javelin” by Salon de la Guerre
Music and Lyrics By Eric Rasmussen
Copyright 2019

Now the time has come to praise javelin
Civil war is now your brand
Biblical violence and the handshake of a salesman
A peaceful finger turn to warful hand

Sky worshipper protecting the land
Easy to use; easy to understand;
You see crosses and cross the land

You turned to homicidal ideation
When the masses came and turned on your man
You speak cant and speak the tongues of babble land
Fashion words into a fisted hand

Sky worshipper protecting the land
Easy to use; easy to understand
Biblical violence is now your brand

Where pretty baby did you get that complex?
Was it the woody finish of a vintage wrath?
Praise the father and his heart full of GORE-TEX
Praise the mother made of wire and cans

Sky worshipper protecting the land
Easy to use; easy to understand;
You see crosses and cross the land

There’s a scrap of the prophecy in my hand
No longer tied to the ideals of my homeland
There’s a scrap of the prophecy in my hand
And in my dreams, I inherit nothing but sand

 

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I’m introducing a new song from my forthcoming album Bleed. Written, performed and produced by moi.

“Slow Combine”
By Eric Randolph Rasmussen
Copyright 2019

Show the kids you don’t know your place
The kids are having a harvester race
Trying to win the love of the girl next door
One of you is rich and the other one is poor

Put the combines down and press your bets
Check the gas and check your gears
Make sure that the engine is oiled
And that you’ve controlled your fear

You reap what you sow
And live off what you plant
The combines went out of control after that
No one foresaw what would happen next
The poor boy ran over her parents

Foot on the pedal
You drive that combine harvester
Drive that harvester
But don’t hit the buildings
Don’t rip what you sow
Don’t reap what you plant
Don’t run over people like the ants
Like the ants
Like the ants

Don’t knock down a building
Don’t destroy city hall
And don’t drive drunk
When you climb up on your harvester
You might raze a city
You might raze a town
And that would bring
Everybody down

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