We’ll always be standing in the middle of a lemonade stand line on Idlewood about to smash a piñata in half (and standing proudly). Let go of that remote control and roll off onto the volcano slope. Hit the low notes and cope. Stomach knots and lips locked to the lymph nodes. Maintain concentration and have patience with the telescope. Ropes tied to my shoulders, I’m unearthing boulders, watching them float up into the sky into constellations that were never there in the first place. No consolation prize like a Medicaid paycheck. I provide a specific type of entertainment waging war lazily on pavement, doing 360s in wheelchairs with no healthcare. I'm in a different dimension but tell my lawyers and doctors I’ll send em in. Bring in the offensive sentiments and the acetaminophen. It doesn’t matter to the madmen. I’m back with a phenomenal grin. I’ve gone adrenaline binging again and again (and my friends, ninjas with the win). Me, I’m some narcoleptic in a racecar driving around the bend. I got too bent up and ended up in a permanent REM, but it’s no way to go. I am the insomniac. In the day time I play the part of the maniac. To start with, I got a lack of cognac. So this thirsty heart’s up at night to the sound of living room laughter. I make art unmarketable and expect it to pay me back after the fact. I play the piano poorly. Pierre, pour me a glass. I’m sick with acidic capacity and long lasting. I only get dressed up now for the occasion I can watch two hearts carve each other out in their awkward conversation (anecdotes, jokes, tricks of the trade, personal politics). It’s getting on my nerves now. I’ll be with the widows when they’re in your window waving. Then I’ll try to behave. With uninformed votes and covenants made (sexual politics), let’s set a precedent of mischief. I like a little trouble sometimes. My face all painted like brave. With cannonball hopes, fish in the grave, personal relationships… It’s enough to make me breakdown. Pulling out a canine, laughing at a phantom, choking on that culpable smoke and then the manila envelopes, a debt to be paid, sexual relationships... I’m happy I don’t worry anymore and I’m feeling just fine.
credits
from Tap Water,
released June 20, 2013
Written and performed by Isaac Lyons Ramsey a.k.a. Swordplay
Produced by Pierre De Brouwer a.k.a. Pierre the Motionless
supported by 9 fans who also own “Conversation Skills”
Sometimes you come across an artist that is compelled to do what they do.
I appreciate the musicality and the arrangement and the artistry of the songs. He sings and plays like his life depends on it. I appreciate the humanity of the lyrics… Like reading Tortilla Flats, or watching Nobody’s Fool.
Ceschi is a bright star. I’m glad he’s loose in the world. oldtruck
This new EP from producer Fil Jackson will thrill fans of underground hip-hop with its dense atmospherics & a feature from rapper Lungs. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 4, 2023
supported by 8 fans who also own “Conversation Skills”
Album of the year. In a fair and just world, they would be headlining festivals with this one. Big hooks. Vivid verses. Fingers-crossed, the instrumentals will get the vinyl treatment. Goodwill Hunter