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Blue & Green

by Aidan Simpson

supported by
Brendan Kidd
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Brendan Kidd Raw gutteral earth-resurrecting voice, shattered into fragments of sadness and joyfulness, that touch the deepest wellspring of my being. Aidan’s voice is that of the old Celtic bards, it sings the spring into flowering and the winter into flame. The Melodies are all his, but go back to the origin of bedlam. This is the most touching music being made nowadays. It is our last hope to fight the machines with. Listening, I am donned in the armor of song, the last gasp of the human spirit. Favorite track: Cupio Dissolvi.
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1.
Gemini 03:04
Mist like a mask on the frown of the mountain, I take to my furnace to play with the flame and the milky world reels as I scatter across it shadows to sever its senses again. Dumbfounded faith in the light as it limps on and, derelict, fades to a lump at the dusk. Garrulous grace in the reach of my strong arm and ritual sleaze where I'm rough with my rust. Brother, dear lay down your spear Ribbons of rhyme in a line to the red sun where, gaseous, goes the hot root of my song. The moon, like a mime, keeps her silence til night comes then grins like a queen and comes singing along. Ash-faced, forbidden, I walk like a widower, always forgetting the hour I'm in. Fate has a prison and I am her prisoner, pinned to her wheel til she hazards a spin. Brother, dear lay down your spear.
2.
I finally found out I'm a liar though I didn't believe it at first. I was told by a boy in the mirror who's been following me round since my birth. And though with many measured words I pleaded, defined my innocence in every way, he told me once again I was deceivèd for that's exactly what a true liar would say. My love is busy building me a bower where we may lay together as we please. But me, I pace the boards of my sad tower as lonely as could any lover be. And I, ungrateful wretch, get round to thinking that, though of course I like my luxury, I'd rather lie beneath the full moon sinking if it would mean she'd sooner speak with me. Oh this life is many leaps with few good landings where we must trust the frail flesh as it bends. And when at least I'm sure of where I'm standing it seems that, surely, I must leap again. Oh that there were some anchor I could cling to made of stronger stuff than skin and bone! What dark I, on its iron chain, would swing through without the fear of falling like a stone!
3.
Threes 02:56
Undue approach: hey there, no! A stumble out, a turn to go. Undue approach and all is blown. Finite ends. The gyro spins, a drunken top in sober hands. Finite and expiring ends. Guilty ghost: the miser's mien lights the mirror inbetween. The guilty ghost goes grovelling. Working eye, a sleeping head lays in the reeds and makes it wet. The working eye is drowned and dead. Cooling wind that cannot breathe makes no ruffles in my sea. A cooling wind that cools no heat. Misty mind, it cannot mend when all within is mist and sand. Misty mind that cannot bend.
4.
O to be a burning auburn log in belly of the swan! All decked about with feathered snow, the fast enfolding storm. The trees in ferment thrusting up as if to be newborn and me dissolving in it all, all golden red and warm. O to be the cloud in breakage through the sun's fierce rage to die, all bruisèd blue and green above the smothered winter sky. O to be that silvered smear of light! to greet the growing night! I'd change my words for thunder and I never more would cry. O to be the icy helmet on the soft head of a hill when rears the sun to rend the white, the land's deep thirst to fill. O to be the first point of the thaw, to seep - perchance, to spill and, out of my hard body then, to trickle at my will. O to be the moon eclipsed in joy as she goes eager by, all gibbous in her going, in her glowing lust to hide. O to be so sure of being, when so hidden from the eye! O sister moon, that you could make your dissolution mine!
5.
To split the gristle - you cannot reach. I'll be the thistle underneath your feet. You play your green spring until the fall I'll be blue heaven underneath it all. You won't be lonely - don't think too much. I'll keep you company, I'll offer you a crutch, and when you're walking you'll walk for me while I'm the thistle underneath your tender feet. To find the fat truth you only crawl while I'm the wise tooth in your rattling skull. You play the viper, but miss the vein. I'll be the boa, bring you close again. You won't be silent - your voice will reach distant climes from the west unto the east. But what you're saying - I've said it all while I'm the wise tooth in your hard and rattling skull. I am the fair wind on your approach and when the storm's in, I use the thunder's throat. I am the smuggler that brings your grain as I'm the burglar who lays you siege again. I am the singer who sings you home. With golden fingers, I turn you into stone. I am the poet who pushes most and so you know it I use the storm and the thunder's throat.
6.
Moonflower 05:02
Hot in the ending of eras O! our bloody love! where the round of a sound in an ear is aroused to a rub. It is midnight and all of your mannequins mope at the fallow moon, making me fall. From the first to the last of the line, you are all - and you are mine. Sunk in the snarl of one wounded I milk the mad rose to steal me a scent that's ungrounded enough for your nose. In syrup of flowers I suck at the stamen for glucose and glut to the full. From the first to the last of the line, you are all - and you are mine. Lifted on wings of your velvet and vinegar sea, then dropped to your gulleys and shelves it all open for me. All of the parrot fish titter and talk of the moist paradise of your skull. From the first to the last of the line, you are all - and you are mine. I see you in horoscopes, limping along with the stars, pursued by a bear, a dog simpering between your bare arms. Fleet footed through null you go, ravenous, wearing the riches of night as your shawl. From the first to the last of the line, you are all - and you are mine.
7.
Hawthorn 03:28
All these hard ways I wander through with fire at my feet cool their crimson all to blue whenever our minds meet. And where you bend in sleep I stand with my love between my teeth hoping you'll creep up on out of your dreams and step to the music with me. All these ash skies that swim inside the thickness of your eye seem so deep a mystery they make me want to cry. But when you look into my nook and notice where I lie I could riddle the jinxs of a million sphinxs, rise up from the desert and fly. Old as the hawthorn, new born as its blossom in spring, our love lights everything. Old as the hawthorn, new born as its blossom in spring, our love lights everything.
8.
Night is on fire, fat gibbous moon. Woman of wire works through the room, my dust the pyre; my pride the doom; night is on fire, my head the flume. Hard loving lady, won't you be kind? Come, look upon me, speak swift your mind. Here is my body, bitterly dry. Hard loving lady, are you still mine? Night is on fire. I'm glad you came. Schoolboys conspire to taste your flame. My lips are burning. Kiss me again. Night is on fire, ash falls like rain.
9.
Oh Friend! 04:29
Oh friend, take your tears from your golden head no longer. On a thread I am coming to lay with you again. See I swing slow to bring you the swaying of the ocean and the wind. Though I left in some twilight with the rust of life about me, though I tried to surrender to the storm and to the sun, I was told by the ravens in the bloody flowers of midnight to return. Oh friend, stand and sigh at my empty bed no longer. Be it said - I am coming to make it up again. See I bring for to soothe you the whispers of the glade and of the glen. Though I left in some half light with the weight of stars upon me, though on hard peaks I stumbled, in wild fires I did burn, I was washed in the waters of a million merry fountains to return. Oh friend, read your prayers to your anxious dead no longer. In your dread, I am coming to quiet them again. See I sing for to teach you the wisdom of the robin and the wren. Though I leapt at some false light in my coat of smooth vermillion, though three voices I swallowed, seven secrets I did learn, I have found always sweeter the one at home who bids me to return. Oh friend! Oh friend! Oh friend!
10.
Taken by the prize regard, run rugged to the real, I lean upon my hammer hard and forage what I feel. A tunnel, deep and very dark, has made a hole in me and left a very holy mark that is dappled like the sea. So I, like any only child, chide others for my wrongs and I make all of my siblings smile with the sorrow in my songs.

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Live takes recorded over two days in November 2022 in St. Mary's Church, Bridport, Dorset, with kind permission of the team there.

All songs written, performed and recorded by Aidan Simpson.

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released February 1, 2023

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Aidan Simpson UK

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