Ophelia S Shadow
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OPHELIA ’S SHADOW t oyah OPHELIA ’S SHADOW 1 OPHELIA’S SHADOW 2 Gunn/Willcox/Geballe/Beavis THE SHAMAN SAYS 3 Geballe/Willcox BRILLIANT DAY 4 Willcox/Fripp/Gunn/Beavis PROSPECT 5 Geballe/Willcox TURNING TIDE 6 Geballe/Willcox TAKE WHAT YOU WILL 7 Gunn/Willcox/Geballe/Beavis GHOST LIGHT 8 Gunn/Willcox/Geballe/Beavis THE WOMAN WHO HAD AN AFFAIR WITH HERSELF 9 Geballe/Willcox HOMEWARD 10 Geballe/Willcox LORDS OF THE NEVER KNOWN Willcox/Fripp/Gunn/Beavis IF I WERE TO BE ASKED WHICH OF MY ALBUMS WERE MY FAVOURITES, MY ANSWER WOULD BE SHEEP FARMING IN BARNET because of its youthful naivety, Love Is The Law because it has a freedom about it’s style of writing, but above those I would rate Ophelia’s Shadow as the one album I made that truly represents me. It was planned as part two of a trilogy, Prostitute being number one, and was made during a more settled period in my life. Prostitute had proved itself a small critical hit which gave me a lot of freedom as a solo artist and producer to call the shots on a larger album using a full band. It was recorded at the same time as I was writing and performing for the band that I had with my husband Robert Fripp, Sunday All Over The World. Creatively I felt I had escaped the tag of being an Eighties pop star and was dawning on a new future as a true musician/songwriter. At the same time I was appearing in the Christmas show Whale at the National Theatre, so life felt good and on track. Because of that O.S. is not such an angry album, which believe it or not I had complaints about from professors in the USA who thought they had found a new raging feminist after the release of bad creative day I would encourage him Prostitute, instead O.S. is more feminine, to jam as it had the efect of un-blocking touching deeply the truth of who I am, writer’s block. I loved his natural sense of more so than any other project I have music. ever embarked on. We recorded this album in an old chapel I am fiercely proud of this album and want in Cranbourne, Dorset. We had a it to be the one I am remembered for as week of rehearsals to format the song I think it has never found its audience. arrangements and to get ahead with any sampling that was needed, then we very The writing process started in my head, much recorded as live, all band members usually in the bath. I would have the laying down their parts at the same time. inspiration for a lyric and take a rough For Tony Geballe this was his first major form into band rehearsals. My band were project and we would leave him alone in Tony Geballe: guitars, Trey Gunn: stick and the studio at night to work on his parts, Paul Beavis: drums. Trey was a particular bless him he was nervous, then in the inspiration to me; his style, his taste and morning we’d all pour in and be his judge choices I truly admired and often on a and jury. I wanted this album to have a liquid on The title for the album came from my glass quality about it, brittle but brilliant love of the spurned character Ophelia, in its quality of sounds. So once the band in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Ophelia is had laid down the tracks, my co-producer driven mad and kills herself because and myself started to set up every trick in of unrequited love. The Shadow is a the recording book of pop music history, reference to Jung’s Shadow, the dark alter in the days before technology got in the ego we all have that plays our demons out, way of human spirit. We of-set our inside our heads. The idea is about the old two twenty-four track machines, so one femininity, the one that is capable of self ran a half second later creating a fatter sacrifice and unconditional love meeting sound. I did my vocals singing against up with a new mind set, the woman who drum cymbals, which gives a brilliantly is free of her romantic heart and capable tight reverb, also singing with my face up of uncompassionate actions. There is against glass so none of my breath was also direct reference to the transience lost in the ambience of the room. The of beauty and a celebration of decay, but whole project had the feel of being in a that is just perversity on my part, I love New York Loft where we would even the idea that a person can carry a bible of try the kitchen sink if it had something to dreams, whether they have been realised ofer. or not. The Shaman Says is about lust and the gentleness of fingers upon acoustic guitar strings is part of its sensuality. Prospect is about digging to find yourself, your gold, your soul. Take What You Will is very much in the Prostitute vein that most men feel they own their women lock, stock and barrel. The final piece of music on the album is played out by the legendary jazz pianist Keith Tippet, who I have been a fan of for years. It leaves the album without closure and a feeling of suspense. How can you have any closure on an autobiographical piece when you are only 28yrs old? Toyah Willcox WELL, IT’S LIKE THIS; HAMLET SAID: Get thee to a nunnery, go. Farewell. Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool, for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. God has given you one face and you make yourselves another. You jig, you amble and you lisp and nickname God’s creatures and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I’ll no more on ’t. It hath made me mad. To a nunnery, go. TO WHICH OPHELIA ANSWERED: Oh what a noble mind is here o’erthrown! OPHELIA’S SHADOW she takes the queue of emotional debts nor the virtues night train with her bible of dreams a nor the vice sewing the seeds of the never suitcase pretty pink a cassette of fresh never tree this is the gospel in the garden screams her treasures decompose her of delights oh, Ophelia, come Ophelia, treasures decay this is the gospel in the sweet Ophelia oh, Ophelia can’t escape garden of delights Ophelia can pretend her shadow dancing in their discos talking to be a priestess or a femme fatale but down their telephones eating in their Ophelia can’t escape her shadow a little restaurants visiting their homes trying on purse of promises with which to elope a their clothes wearing their skin and bones butterfly net and a killing jar to silence all Ophelia, come Ophelia we decompose her hopes Ophelia’s shadow is haunting Ophelia, come Ophelia lets decay THE the humans ambushed by ghosts and SHAMAN SAYS swimming up from other aspects of her lonely heart this is sleep the last morning dream the sun the gospel in the garden of delights bleeds on white bondage sheets love Ophelia is Joan’s burning body a little currency the Shaman says that the dead purse of promises with which to elope a forget the Shaman says the dead forget butterfly net and a killing jar to silence all my hand between your legs a splintered her hopes Ophelia can’t escape her truth the glitter tear drop makes enough shadow nor the givers of advice or the fragments to carry us through to day break when we talk we’re grafto when at the dull, grey day shoppers always knew we talk it’s vandalism when we talk its an when he looked at me I’d shiver as if illusion the Shaman says I’m the peahen touched by electricity we three will never that pretends to wear the peacock’s be again life will hold us apart sense of blooms looking under the bed in all the touch was in the air tactility on this brilliant cupboards behind the doors under the day up the drive to an old manor house covers don’t take what I say too seriously butler by the door with a welcome smile don’t take what I say at all just sleep silently securely sown in life’s tapestry we ate like you lead I follow in the never ending fall Lords and Lady like a needle and thread the Shaman says BRILLIANT DAY as on embroidery we’re so complete in our we drove of in your car didn’t need to company I could have cried as we dived return ‘till sun-down so we headed out into the jaws the chores closed doors of of town through the fields and trees away the big city we three will never be again from city slickers and those in need to be life will hold us apart sense of touch was kings for a day alone in your bubble in in the air tactility on this brilliant day your mobile world you at the wheel PROSPECT this serene madness this brimmed full of stories he on the back deceptive rashness wonder wonder seat dreaming of glory he was in the tundra tundra gritty splendor sink into cockpit of a Westland Lysander shooting the sand and now I’m lost gloriously tossed into the mass of ravenous gladness kiss you dig me up to picture this toss me Turner Turner reverse your stroke brush prospect sift every speck spick and span a sky as clear as rye singing thunder my hand pan man ruggedy ruggedy humming gale melting diamond soft wet beneath my skin smooth rough kiss hail ruggedy ruggedy smooth rough kiss beneath my skin TURNING TIDE you dig me up to picture this come little keeper of the high seas now we turn to baby put your lips to my breast summer you for harmony forgive us leviathan snow-fall petal-blossom ice rocky land we’re laughing in the hurricane if its any slide sugar grit eyes I cradle you with love consolation we’ve poisoned our soil and I’m dreaming in your fears enough is felled our trees the universe is closing in enough of narcissus tears ruggedy ruggedy let me swim the waves come roll over smooth rough kiss you dig me up to my feet I descend the shore and the waves picture this toss me prospect sift every drink me I cast adrift this demon seed speck spick and span my hand pan man I swimming on the turning tide sitting in a love the feel of things closing in I love the whirlpool telephone minds on the party sound of my fists against brick