We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Jacquerie

by Edward Morneau

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $8 USD  or more

     

1.
Jacquerie 01:13
2.
Radio Shills 05:00
Radio Shills I’m sick of all this radio, these personalities Who run down any citizen with whom they disagree This crap can’t pass for dialogue, it’s past insanity
 We’d be better off if they’d shut their mouths And crawled back to the sea. It breaks my heart to pieces when they tear into the pain Of struggling people who follow rules and try to play by the game While the rich get richer everyday and have the balls to blame The weather on the little guy whenever it starts to rain. 
I thought this was a melting pot, I thought it was a dream We’d add up all our differences and somehow we’d redeem The sins of any ancestor who made the weaker scream But they still get flogged by radio, and the righteous—they blaspheme. Turn them off, Radio Shills
 Turn them off, Radio Kills They say they have the right to speak, it’s no privilege to incite A riot in a reptile’s mind is like a parasite That feeds upon the good will of those who get it right And free speech doesn’t mean you’re free to say that black is white. They’re not about any freedom or any ideology. Locked in battle in a whoredown, they’re pimps for the FCC The bottom line is gutless power and the stuff they get for free From a government that takes the highest bid and sells our liberty. Turn them off, Radio Shills
 Turn them off, Radio Kills My head is hurtin’, my mind is numb as I turn the stupid dial If Goebbels were alive today he’d break into smile Remember what they do to those who walk a crooked mile You better not be different
‘cause it’s you they will anile. Frank Zappa said it best,
there is no Great Society When justice looks the other way when it applies to you and me It ain’t about the media,
it’s about mass stupidity So shut off ugly radio
and shut off ugly TV. Turn them off, Radio Shills
 Turn them off, Radio Kills
3.
Frogs Will Never Fall from the Sky The ticket to the sun has been collected 
 The widow to the bones sweeps up the dust The salad years have passed the last inspection As iron looks to slip away from rust. But it makes no sense to me that 
 All the wind wakes in the morning And all the tracks of dark blue crease the sky And the incremental storm of clocks Ringing while the evening flocks 
 To the heels of light in blind serenity. On a cold, cold day when the oxygen is thin And gravity has its way with you And the odds are just even 
 Frogs will never fall from the sky. One step ahead delays cuts to the diamond Events like legends fall between the cracks 
 A swarm of flies wrest traffic from December With the panic gridlock chorus at their back. It makes no sense to me that fire burns away the memory Of passions chilled by parallel end signs As fame and nuance join the league Snow leopards drop from sheer fatigue The sane is not the same for you and me. On a cold, cold day when the oxygen is thin And gravity has its way with you
 And the odds are just even 
Frogs will never fall from the sky. In the end Skin Ribbon Men will tour the shadows With Storm and Drain—sweet cousins of the Moon That pulls the tide of bodies in collision And stock the spine of eternity’s balloon. It made no sense to me When I woke up from this senseless dream That words could mean so little for so few And riddles favor those who’d rather bleed in ambiguity
 And draw and quarter mouse meal for the clue. On a cold, cold day when the oxygen is thin And gravity has its way with you 
And the odds are just even 
 Frogs will never fall from the sky. On a cold, cold day when the oxygen is thin And gravity has its way with you 
 And the odds are just even 
Rain might fall, Snow might fall But frogs will never fall from the sky.
4.
Soul Rendezvous (The Lobbyist’s Song) What to do, what not to do? 
 Drop the line or drop the shoe? 
 Tell the truth or back the lie? 
 Press the flesh and wonder why You’re on your way to the wrong interview. Bang the nail or turn the screw? 
 Bid the reason you’re here a fond adieu Take the whiskey, hold the ice 
 Nothing matters so be precise
 Set it down before you know what you have to do. You never thought it would be so hard It’s like an aphrodisiac 
 The press, the roll call, 
 The undecided waiting for you to speak up But you find the words don’t come out Exactly as you practiced them So you remember to never forget to surrender all At your soul rendezvous. The chickens cluck and the cows, they moo While the milkman, oilman, bagman queue It’s a holiday of sin 
But, still, you let ‘em in Making friends with no one that you hardly knew. You never thought it would be so easy— 
 Like driving by an accident 
 The fox, the badger—
 Everybody’s waiting for you to show up 
 You find the words come so quickly 
 ‘Specially when they’re not your own 
 You don’t remember when you surrendered all At your soul rendezvous.
5.
Selection 04:14
Selection We sit on the fence of a broken dream temperance house We sit on a jury of peers
and then we look down In a nation of laws
it’s the choice of thieves To steal away promise
and leave us to grieve For the past that was split by an arrow to keep you from me. What’s in a name, in a place, or in a street? Nothing’s forever in the station where we will meet You can cut us in half,
you can make us all numb When you give us the choice we choose to be dumb When it’s time for selection,
will we choose by our feet? Mothers and children don’t turn from the light A darker commandment comes in from the night Don’t shake the hand that points to the right There’s a fire that seeks much more. Mothers and children don’t move from the light A darker commandment comes in from the right I am the lamb who gives up the fight To the lion who seeks much more. I knew a girl—she was different, so she disappeared I looked for her—maybe I didn’t— I’m not sure if I cared She was my sister,
she was my mom She made me a jacket
when I came undone I don’t remember for her if I shed any tears. Mothers and children don’t turn from the light A darker commandment comes in from the night Don’t shake the hand that points to the right There’s a fire that seeks much more.
 Mothers and children don’t move from the light A darker commandment comes in from the right I am the lamb who gives up the fight To the lion who seeks much more. You can’t see it coming,
it’s like boiling a toad In prayer we pray for the things we think we are owed We turn from our neighbor
when things don’t go right We hide under blankets to wait out the night 
 It’s too late—the kettle is boiling, it’s going to explode. Mothers and children don’t turn from the light A darker commandment comes in from the night Don’t shake the hand that points to the right There’s a fire that seeks much more.
 Mothers and children don’t move from the light A darker commandment comes in from the right I am the lamb who gives up the fight To the lion who seeks much more. Oh the clouds—they roll heavy, and the river is ashen white; The fields bring sunflowers that reach into the night And the cart the hunchback pushes is loaded to the rail Its cargo smells of such bitter fruit, time and reason fail. When the clouds fall hard from heaven and the water swallows light, When the flowers kill the honeybee, it’ll whet my appetite For the rapture and the calling, for a shot inside the ring, “For sleep makes the poor shepherd equal to the king.”
6.
Tiddlywinks 02:20
Tiddlywinks Poor boy, don’t have no work
 Poor boy, just sit and jaw 
 Poor boy is fast asleep
 Poor boy ain’t gonna drive this car. Poor girl, she plays jump rope Poor girl, she plays with jacks Tiddlywinks and singing songs Poor girl, she ain’t coming back. Where they come from? Where they go? What they want from me? Where’s the mayor and police? We all floatin’ out to sea. Saw Jonah out there, saw old Job Saw Ahab and the whale 
 Hitched a ride on a crowded boat Hope that wind gonna blow that sail. Fever come and fever go Wind held us in her hands 
 Water rose and the tears dried up Couldn’t wait ‘til we touched that land. Then I saw the light through a smoky mist Hope held high in her hand
 “What you doin’ way up here?”
 Guess I’m lookin’ for the promised land. “Ain’t no jobs here for you, boy
 Ain’t no tiddlywinks, girl Ain’t no time to sing and jaw 
 You’re a wink and a prayer in a big-eyed world.” Someday a big old wind will blow this lie away Someday Jesus come and ask, 
 “Why didn’t you listen to a word I say?”
7.
Back Where the Soldier Fell Back where the soldier fell 
 There will be a tale to tell 
 While the priests and the infidels mock time
 In a flash the deed was done 
 One lost, the other won 
 And those who loved the both of them just cry. The big sky cannot weep 
 The big secret is there to keep 
 The rest of us who are fast asleep in his arms. No call to sacrifice 
 No call to help his wife
 Pack away his child in ice for later on. Thaw him out when he becomes a man Let the whole thing begin again 
 The flag will keep him warm while he waits. The time will come to earn his right To find the darkness and seize the night And know that a true killer never hesitates. Back where the soldier fell
 Before he died he heard a bell
 He remembered school recess and his friends. The dodge ball game he had won The day he said goodbye to mom And dad, in tears and delirium— Where are they sending him? He’s a man in no man’s land
 Where things will never make sense to him ‘Cause nothing ever begins or ever ends. Though words from home are poetry 
 A parade awaits in grave symmetry 
 A sacrifice to hegemony and the dead. Back where the soldier fell 
 I kneel and curse to hell 
 That war is such an easy thing to sell in our time. If I could I would lift him up
 Bring him home and say that’s enough 
 But I’m afraid that I’m not that tough...
8.
Highway 10 03:49
Highway 10 Down the road on Highway 10
 My glasses wrapped around my head The green I leave behind me 
 Ain’t the bankroll in my bed. Pajero’s full of gas and friends 
 The heat is in the kitchen
 On the road to Hell, can’t make amends Down on Highway 10. Mercenary popped his cherry Slaughtered all the kids in school 
 On your knees, you’re not my teacher School is out for you. Oh, Mujadaheen, “Allah Akbar” filling the air 
Why am I here—it’s only a job? 
 Oh, where have you been, Angel of Death?
 Please cut me down, I am now Dust, I am now War. Mogadishu ain’t the issue 
 Oil & gas, puzzles and knives
 No Law and Order, just Blackwater Down on Highway 10. This ain’t the Scouts or American Pie This is just the market place 
 Torture sold to the lowest bidder Down on Highway 10. Monkey starving, Great Monolith
 Drop the bones and make amends There’s no other way from here to there Down on Highway 10. Oh, Mujadaheen, “Allah Akbar” filling the air 
Why am I here—it’s only a job? 
 Oh, where have you been, Angel of Death?
 Please cut me down, I am now Dust, I am now War. Naming streets after the dead
 Is payoff for the soldier killed This mess is just a Nameless Road Down on Highway 10. What’s the pretext? What‘s the context? Money to be made, I guess
 You can bet your life
Y ou won’t find the rich man Down on Highway 10. Oh, Mujadaheen, “Allah Akbar” filling the air 
Why am I here—it’s only a job? 
 Oh, where have you been, Angel of Death?
 Please cut me down, I am now Dust, I am now War. But down at the crossroads There is a nation Unpenitent and untrue 
 On High 10 there is a sign “Semper Fi... Fuck you!”
9.
Ash Wednesday The Bull on the altar, the oil in the water 
 The Penitent fasting at the mall
 Blood and Guilt kneel and pray for Repentance While Sin and Death work the Carnival. Pancake Day—the Feast of Transgression The Prophet speaks the Litany of Farce The wind blows mighty through the sands of the empire
 Forgiveness staggers to the Mardi Gras. You say I’m backsliding I haven’t been hiding My vigil looks to an empty sky 
 There’s nothing but danger 
 When truth turns to mumbles And the ashes fall as dust over my eyes. The Knight and the Knave lay the Palms for the New King Of loving kindness, good news for the Mass But Venial, Corporal, Cardinal & Mortal— All that has been promised soon will pass. Even Holy Water can’t clean the stain of sorrow As the Caissons go rolling all alone 
 Through the Family of Man I seek redemption There’s nothing more to me than flesh and bones.
10.
Well, I Don’t Know Was there a time when the world was flat? Let me think...I don’t know. 
 Was there a time when this was that? Maybe...Well, I don’t know. See the man in the big black robe, 
 See the man on the stand who knows,
 But can’t remember if the world was flat,
 As for ‘this and that’, he says, “I don’t know.” Was there a time when there was no sun? Let me think...I don’t know. 
 Is there a better way to get things done? Maybe...Well, I don’t know. Says the man in the big black robe, “
 To get things done watch the river flow 
 And pray to the moon and the stars and the sun, Beyond that, I don’t know.” But I sensed his fear, that he knew less than me— And I don’t know anything, and when I can I say, “Well, I don’t know.” 
If I behave is there some big prize? Let me think...I don’t know. 
 Is it better to win or to compromise? Maybe...Well, I don’t know. Says the man in the big black robe, “Winning is good, as everyone knows. Winners behave, so I am told, 
 But then again, I don’t know.” But I sensed his doubt I was turning him inside out “ Don’t ask me another thing.” I said, “I won’t, ‘cause you don’t know.” I think the moral of this story is—
 Wait a minute—I don’t know.
 But it’s probably okay just to sing along, Maybe not, I don’t know.
11.
The Day the Birds Stopped Singing I knew him well—he was a friend of mine, Our lives were all laughter and song
 And dreams of a better world, And our hearts would leap When we danced with the local girls.
 Had I known on the day the birds stopped singing, We should have skipped work and gone for a ride But how was I to know he’d be gone before his time? I knew him well—he was a brother of mine Though there were times when I wished he’d get lost or just disappear, There were times when I cried so hard when he was not there. But I knew on the day
the birds stopped singing, I’d remember every crack in his stupid smile How was I to know he’d be gone before his time? I knew him well—he was a son of mine,
 In the hot days of summer He’d strike out the order as if they were blind, It was I he’d tell of the fears that were on his mind. Had I known on the day the birds stopped singing
 I’d have warned him something else was in the sky But how was I to know he’d be gone before his time? I knew him well—he was my oldest child, I used to worry so hard When he didn’t come home on time And I’d dread the sad day When we had to say goodbye I believed on the day the birds stopped singing Such a kind man would surely find his way 
 But I knew such a world could take him... I knew such a world would take him before his day. I knew him well...
12.
Cathedrals of Sticks and Pins Someday crayons will color
the space with the line gone Some day neon will light up the path to the pylon That holds up the sun to a new dawn And cathedrals of sticks and pins will fall. Someday lions will lie down with lambs in the cyclone Someday Freon will ice the blue light frozen beyond And water will torch hell and no one 
 Will shake before cathedrals of sticks and pins. ‘Cause everything’s here
 So just hold your breath 
 Life’s flip art animates your soul Wonder’s jest lets loose control of tools Angels are gas and so nothing will last Except for the fact of here and now Wrinkle flat the iron balls of fools. Freedom was lying, happiness faints from deciding Reason is crying, careening like echoes in time In contest we wait for the crime 
 While blood drains from Cathedrals of sticks and pins. ‘Cause Nothing is There
 So explode not your Here 
 For skipping stones don’t drown in sin 
 But plunder priests will do you in and in We’re freer than free when Reason is Fruit Page after page of colliding stars 
 There’s no Aftersight but what we are... we are.
13.
My Heart Waits for a Cure My heart waits for a cure My heart waits for a cure Seed this kiss, roll the dice Feed my lungs with fire and ice My heart waits for a cure My heart waits for a cure Take my hand, this fingered wing Shake this sorrow, numb its sting My heart waits for a cure My heart waits for a cure Fold me in your blazing skin Find me out and let me in My heart waits for a cure My heart waits for a cure Cage me in your cave so dark Breathe me in and leave your mark.

about

Jacquerie is a compilation of re-mixed songs from Trepanning and Before the Second Rooster, plus two new pieces.

Jacquerie is dedicated to my friends Roy and Millicent (Millie) who commissioned this compilation and supported the political spirit of these songs, as well as the outrage over what happened to America under the Bush administration.

These are new friends I met at a wedding a several years ago. Roy and Millie regaled me with stories of their own political activism during the days of Vietnam, Civil Rights, Nixon and Reagan, and railed against Bush with such conviction and distemper that I had to send them Trepanning and Before the Second Rooster— two previous CD’s I did with equally foul temperament concerning conservative politics and abuse of power under the Bush years in America. Within a few days of receiving them, they emailed me their excitement over the songs, which was an important validation for me.

They were clear, constructive, and critical, telling me what worked, what didn’t, and what they thought I should do. They suggested I choose the songs I believed were the best from each CD, keep the whole thing under an hour, and consider re-mixing songs I had talked about fixing.

I thought Bill Mason did a great job re- mixing what we had, patiently making and integrating the changes I wanted, and mastering the whole shebang. Nephew Dave created a compelling, ominous introduction, and I decided that a new tune was appropriate for this collection.

Right around this time I returned to the classroom part time and was teaching Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, which I hadn’t read since high school. The book spun my head around. Though the story itself is the compelling core of Dickens’ effort, the despair of the underclass, the indifference of the wealthy, the hypocrisy of the church—all these things reminded me of so many chapters of the 20th Century and of certain empty pockets of time in economic 21st Century America.

I’m no revolutionary, but I want my songs to have meaning, to have power, to even suggest revolt and revulsion over injustice. Jacquerie is a second chance to do that and I thank Roy & Millie for their generous support and shared outrage. Jacquerie would not exist without them.

credits

released January 1, 2012

Produced and Composed* by E. Morneau
Engineered & Mastered by Bill Mason
At Second Story Sound, Boston, MA
*Except Jacquerie piece composed by David Morneau
Front Cover Installation: E. Morneau
All Photography: Tom Rose
CD Design: Steve Mammone

The Jacques...

Paul Lawrence, Bass Guitar
Eric Meyer, Drums & Percussion
Ruby Bird, Accordion, Harmonica & Keyboards
Jesse Lewis, Cello
Lilian Belknap, Viola
EM, Vocals, Guitars, Percussion; All Percussion (“Highway 10”), Harpsichord ("My Heart ...”) & All Instruments (“Cathedrals ...”)
David Morneau, Musical Collages: “Jacquerie,” "Radio Shills,” “Highway 10, “My Heart ...”
Billy Carl Mancini, Electric Guitar (“Radio Shills”), Drum Program (“Soul Rendezvous”):
Feeding of Sea Monsters (“Cathedrals ...”): BCM & EM

In Recognition...
From "Selection": “Sleep makes the poor Shepherd equal to the King”: Stanislaw Lem (from his novel, "Solaris")

End Narrative from "Cathedrals of Sticks & Pin"s: “Through our eyes the universe is perceiving itself; through our ears it is listening to it cosmic harmonies. We are the witnesses through which the universe becomes conscience of its glory, its magnificence.”: Alan Watts (Voice & sea sounds patched together from Werner Herzog’s "Encounters at the End of the World")

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Edward Morneau Salem, Massachusetts

Edward Morneau has been a musician and songwriter most of his life. His focus on multiple genres and interest on sound collage experimentation makes his music hard to classify. His muses range from Beatles, Brian Wilson, Randy Newman, XTC, Kinks, Iris DeMent to Mahler, Shostakovich, Penderecki & Zappa. His background as an English & Film teacher gives humor and striking imagery to his songs. ... more

contact / help

Contact Edward Morneau

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like Edward Morneau, you may also like: