Hits From The Brittle Building
The debut solo record for Ross McLennan
Thirteen tracks, thirteen hits to these ears. Every one recorded almost entirely in a tiny, cluttered room in Ross's house in the Northern suburbs of Melbourne - The Brittle Building, if you haven't twigged by now. Ross plays guitar, keyboards, funky homemade cello, drums and sings all of the lead vocals and most of the BVs as well, although a somewhat motley crew of friends, relations and local legends (and their relations) including members of The Anyones and Treetops was assembled when the song called for a more collective voice. It was a real labour of love and the resultant sound(s) are certainly not your average kettle of home recorded fish - more like something odd but strangely familiar hauled up from the depths of a never before explored ocean trench.
Ross's songs, his bass playing and his heartfelt voice
are familiar from the fine catalogue of his band Snout,
but he's developed since those days and this recording is his finest
moment.
There are Snoutish echos, the humour is still there
- but there's a resonance to the music that's entirely in keeping
with the times
we live in.
Track list is as follows (click the song title
to read the lyrics)
Those of you who have been checking out the W. Minc site will have heard
John Howard The Actor. This song, the JJJ hit Gifts For The
Kids and other solo and Snout audio tracks are available
if you visit the audio page. And you must...
::Symphobia:: (© Ross McLennan, Mushroom Music Publishing)
there's something moving in the backyard
the autumn wind is riding hushed and low
there's something moving in the backyard
I feel its essence in the stars and in the trees
there's something moving in the backyard
the machines are smoking pumping mellotronic sound
disembodied voices floatists rise up from the ground
hovering above and behind your right eye
calling down the distance with the elemental sigh
we grow we mutate at an alarming rate pupate duplicate into a right royal state
but the voices collective steadfast on the drone
say sooner or later they all fall home
there's something moving in the backyard
the autumn wind is riding hushed and low
we're in the presence of a strange thing
I feel its essence in the stars and in the trees
there's something moving in the backyard
symphobia recoil from the spoils of your toil
the fruits of the lean hang lank touching the powdery soil
and every square inch could soak up a mile
you fear to touch because it's you that is vile x 3
the body grows and the mind goes god knows where x 3
top
::Winterwonderland:: (© Ross McLennan, Mushroom Music Publishing)
winterwonderland nothing in my hand
nor in my toes they're froze in rows of five
snap frozen I've been chosen for still life
hearts are broken when life is lost around the home
let them roam let them wander let them wonder
I crawled out on the ice looking for ghostlife
be still and quiet or you may frighten them
remember that they don't believe in you
just remember there is nothing you can do from back here
let them wander let them wonder
I didn't expect to see a ghost like me here underwater
now that I've grown up now that I have sussed
just how much to trust entrust to human hands
there's danger we are strangers in our midst
doors are open and keys get lost around the home
look by the phone
let them wander let them wonder
winterwonderland winterwonderland can't feel my hands or my toes
top
::Gifts For The Kids:: (© Ross McLennan, Mushroom Music Publishing)
raining on your head oh boy major complication
falling on your head again hanging in the balance
gifts for the children of the differently abled
scrawled on the underside of the table
messages of hope and joy scrawled on the underside
gifts for the kids for the children hits from the brittle building
with wishbone knees and fishbone keys navigate the locks/lochs
and out into the open seas
tell on me better than I could stick up for me because I'm good
it sleepwalks in like crazy kin lays under the bed
and cries the sweetest sound
raining on your head oh boy major complication
falling on your feet this time hanging in the balance
gifts for the children of the differently abled
scrawled on the underside of the table
messages of hope and joy scrawled on the underside
gifts for the children of the differently abled
scrawled on the underside of the table...
atlas department raining down plan
all this power and in the wrong hands
and who's got hands big enough to cup the kind of chaos
even gods can't stop
if we were grown ups you could live with us
sleep beneath the walls bowed under a truss
you want food make tapping sounds
if you want love you've just gotta make tapping sounds
raining on your head oh boy major complication
bowing to the bended trees hanging in the balance
gifts for the children of the differently abled
scrawled on the underside of the table
messages of hope and joy scrawled on the underside
top
pain I hold it in trust I never cut my toenails I'm not fussed
the money I lose in worn out socks is made up for in shoes
going nowhere or bust I'm the only adult you can trust
to not eat up all the glue and with the pointy scissors trust
me too
you can leave me alone on rainy days and I'll know what to
do
you can leave me alone
I'm the only adult you can trust
top
mr genocidal at the school recital
smiling on benignly kindly while satan's child
is playing a sunflower
respectable rulers sitting on their hands
thousands of pre schoolers payed out laid out
in their mortuary coolers
we're the devil's own we're the devil's own
millionaire adventurer
let the fuckwit drown
shock djs are washed up in this town
bits and bobs for cleansing from our product range
we do wholesale murder muredr
murderers she cried but no one heard her
where the devils own all the satellites
(everybody sing!)
top
::Still Taking Bets:: (© Ross McLennan, Mushroom Music Publishing)
yeah I'm throwing unlucky shoes
yeah Im catching clay like a muse
tread locked pattern snaking through the undergrowth
you cannot step from the eye because you're under oath
nursing that brew and cursing like tourette's...and still taking
bets
hey break out your world weary chops
empirical new styles kicking out the catwalk blocks
jazzcore slicks are aquaplaning out o' hand
new tricks displayed at the elixir stand
dolphins and socks all tangled in your nets and still taking
bets
still taking bets
new wave punks are tearing up the studio
they blew the hair gel budget on the video
I ain't the one to be judging the deluded no
I ain't the one to begrudge the convoluted so
treadlocked pattern jazzcore slicks
half trucks trampling stone fruit and sick
bone flutes cracking and whistling no regrets and still taking
bets
still taking bets still taking bets still taking bets
still taking bets
top
bonded by disenchantment tethered by good clean fear
rot gut resentment dressed up in smiles
we are the famous five no-one gets out alive
what kind of friends are we?
the hang dog mouths rank salvation the high court judge
lets no light in
secret society brothers under the skin
we are the famous five no-one gets out alive
what kind of friends are we?
the undefined track our footsteps
darkened corners wheelin dealin signing and sealing
who owns this hand there's confusion
subterfusion
forwe are secret society brothers under the skin
we are the famous five no-one gets out alive
what kinda friends are we?
top
::Motorola:: (© Ross McLennan, Mushroom Music Publishing)
undertaker quick with the carbon paper
secret slaker slipped down the rum and razor
so she's a bitter woman now what did you expect
she's a bitter one now what did you expect
consecration clustered in general mayhem
you're watching while your sister got sawed up
hacking and coughin/coffin while they nail the boards up
so she's a bitter woman now what did you expect
turned out a twister now look her in the eye
motive opportunity free trade free will
yeah she's a bitter woman now
shut this shit off we're chewing on what we just bit off
scrap and angle ironing out all the tangles
motorola
where's your heart?
top
mum and dad are bringing down the budget with a heavy sigh
they wonder why their budget night baby never seems to cry
friday afternoon kids don't get the blues
'cause every day's another day when there's nothing left
to lose
shutting out the scream of information on the one way line
shutting out the crazy superstition and the talk show mime
winter's timid sun/son is saving for essentials
still put something away for fun
you and I are never falling back into the way things were
you and I deserve a little better than a life deferred
no life that I know could live and breathe below
the icy water we've been under
mum and dad are bringing down the budget with a heavy sigh
they wonder why their budget night baby never seems to cry
friday afternoon kids don't get the blues
'cause everyday's another day when there's nothing left to
say
top
taillights at your heel shaming red a backwards glance
tyres peel bandaid slow
where are you gonna go with what you now know
and the desert in your shoe
you take away some small token of a measure of our blues
an armour piercing glow
how are you gonna go with what you now know
the act of making love
I'm pro creation but our nation is still born
the act of making love
while western wonders keep emerging fully born
midnight valleys overcome the lonely ones
the birds nested at street lights the women and their young
the lovers who don't laugh or cry
from the promise of this page the sun leaches the dye
but it's you and I that fade for we are not man made
and we cannot be sold
and the hatred game is advertising gold
the act of making love
I'm pro creation but our nation is still born
the act of making love
while western wonders keep emerging fully formed
now that love is fleshed to bone
when will you be calling home with the things that you now
know
top
wik wak deeds and choke-a-cola deeds rule the school
trademark stains diseases on the brains of the ghouls
nights I still dream I confess
but I lost my faith in sporting prowess
humble pie and matchsticks in the eyes wore me down
fed so much I lost my sense of touch, sight and sound
long ago I failed this test so kindly take your knee off
my chest
pushed too far and burning down the hedge in your head
storming empty palaces you've been left for dead
eating dust and scrounging for a crust in the dirt
you've got to get behind the kids in the queue for your bread
Dad there's a headstone here and it says
that he lost his faith in sporting prowess
mmm in sporting prowess
top
::Lovestruck:: (© Ross McLennan, Mushroom Music Publishing)
smiling jackdaws with circular saws and scores in rolled up tongue
rattling off rhyme can anyone find me some of what they're
on
poker face cool and button down rule and school is out for
keeps
spitting out teeth and they're begging belief they're mean
as all fuck
lovestruck happy to be dumbstruck feeling and looking like
a fool
dumbstruck I found my way by dumb luck and I lost my way
with clues
lost my way with clues lost my way with...
brooding and sexual intellectual too
spitting out teeth and they're begging belief they're mean
as all fuck
lovestruck....
look at these guys look at them dropping rhyme for the pain
gumming our teeth to the barrier reef we're mean as all fuck
lovestruck....
top
got pumice for hands impossible to cup any sweetness
and they understand the sound they make is hollow and dusty
but if you could have seen their passion
passion for the stupidest things if you could have seen their
passion
crept in through the catflap a funny kind man without any heart
caught taking a catnap something in our food cause we like
the dark
and playing dumb and playing possum how did you get in here
we said
playing cute he smiled and straightened up the hat on my
head
oh yeah hey hey I didn't see you at the rally today
what a crap turnout the human race is a blowout
my sympathies go out to John Howard the actor
his nomenclature messed up under history's tractor
to all the Husseins forsaken names Mussolinis Bushes and
Blairs
to skeletons kept under lock and key to closets underneath
the stairs
oh yeah hey hey we got an opening in protest today
what a crap turnout....
top
~Graham Lee~
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