Perfection is a Process

by Naevus

/
1.
03:36
2.
06:38
3.
4.
04:17
5.
04:19
6.
7.
8.
9.
05:08
10.
06:46

credits

released October 23, 2004

Lloyd James: voice, acoustic guitar.
Joanne Owen: bass, accordion, electronics.
Greg Ferrari: electric guitar.
John Murphy: drums, bowed cymbal, singing bowl, sampler.
David E. Williams: keyboard (track 3).
Andrew Trail: shanai (track 7).

Recorded and mixed by Naevus at Wooden Lung, London from August 2003 to June 2004, except keyboards in track 3 recorded by David E. Williams in Philadelphia on 28th March 2004 and drums in tracks 4, 6 and 10 recorded by Naevus and Andrew Trail at the 491 Gallery, London on 15th March 2004. Mastered by Hunter Barr at Retina II, London.

All material (c) Naevus 2004.

Cover image: 'The Cyclops' (1914) by Odilon Redon (1840-1916).

tags

license

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about

Naevus London, UK

Lloyd James: voice, acoustic guitar.
Ben McLees: bass, electric guitar.
Hunter Barr: drums, keyboards.
Sam Astley: electric guitar.

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Track Name: The Obvious
Hand-banger messed it up again
Set his wits adrift
Just hanging on by the scruff of his neck
Could beat the lot of them at Crufts

He always got up in the morning
In a church-going medley of sound
In a quest for attention
In and around Swiss Cottage
He aspired to the television
Discussed it at length
While professing to hate it
Muck-raking in his own mind
Then rubbing it in your face

In the new Victorian park
He thought that he could watch the smell of air
Thought that he’d found his way again
He’s waiting to be counted now
But I need to repel the fact
Track Name: Retreat
There’s nothing like this
It was born in the past
And suffers its way into the future
Its hard head supported
By the weakest spine
Ever known to man
It watches as others
Strive to exist
In a state that is its nature
They think it’s the end
But it knows that it is
The process itself – retreat

It has no manners
To remember
So it falls hard into its food
And it slides down from table
Into retreat
Retreat, retreat, retreat
Track Name: Don't Boil (version two)
Grip at an object with your eye
Try to bring it into your mind
Then fail to act
Maintaining your absence from the world

Choose your lessons from life
Simmer but don’t boil
Observe a procession of documented hardship
Then don’t look

Watch a hand placed on a load
Watch the load swell to constraint
Make a scruffy handbook
Then watch a sheet lie empty as it should

Grip at an object with your eye
Try to bring it into your mind
Then fail to act
Maintaining your absence from the world
Track Name: Clay Hats
The trees are a crust on his vision now
The road, a distant harm below him now
Replica whitewash stands in sheets
Everything accounted for

Having hoped for Algerian loneliness
Nothing is now left
His shoulders yearn for skirting board
As his skin shrinks from carpet

Cubism lingers in the walls
As testicles bang in jeans
He hates red brick chimneys wearing clay hats
And all other practical error

His head full of stacked furniture
An indoor mountaineer
He sits up dead in the fuelled air
Legs hope to hit energy

Cubism lingers in the walls
As testicles bang in jeans
He hates red brick chimneys wearing clay hats
And all other practical error
Track Name: South Bank
Now, as I walk on the south riverbank
Synthesized
I am creating false memories
That will be useful to me
As the tenements sit
On their flat, concrete hands
They grow slowly fat with distance
And all along the Thames
In brown or in grey
They are empty
But there’s no other place
Or thing to be done
There is no one
But this one

The waters may move
Just as I seem to be walking
I travel between every absence
Between every casing
As the tenements sit
On their flat, concrete hands
They grow slowly fat with distance
And all along the Thames
In brown or in grey
They are empty
But there’s no other place
Or thing to be done
There is no one
But this one
Track Name: Look to the State
Look to the state
Look to the state
Look to the state
One state

One state
One church
Two meats
Make seed
Four bags
On sheets
One way to the socialist state
One state, one state

Look to the state
Look to the state
Look to the state
One state

One state
Make needs
Take soot
From sheets
Make heat
Make weeds
Make way for the socialist state
One state, one state

Look to the state
Look to the state
Look to the state
One state

One state
One meat
One church
One need
One heat
Take heed
Take seats for the socialist state
One state, one state

Look to the state
Look to the state
Look to the state
One state
Track Name: New Featureless List
I’m treading water because of you
Moving materials from one place to another
I’ll skim off another surface
Denying beauty at every turn

I’m making lists because of you
One to eight and still not approved
I’ll carry on gliding
But it still hurts to pull the wire through

Start again

Urge has become a distant knowledge
So far removed from the actions I’ve performed
My left leg dies and my right will probably follow
My chair creaks
As your tiny imitation of heartbreak
Breaks my heart
Track Name: Voice in a Bin
Finding your voice in a bin
Losing an oat in your face
Having the nerve to go
Hurting the food supply
Being manhandled
Up the narrow stairs
Feet catching in railings
In an awkward manner
Tie to the side
Your jacket-flaps fan me
I’ll text you and I’ll text you
‘Til the morning light
A heart full of gloves
A handful of tape
This never was
Your environment
Burning the price-tag
In a plan of sorts
Your wings are hot but stuck
In the eyes of a dog you love
Under the receiver
Ability beckons
Don’t do it now
Or act like a zoo
A canny young thing
With feelers out for dregs
The sponge drains the cup
The froth fills the mop
Put your face out to dry
Peg it up with the shirts
Choose an attaché case
And a shiny new suit
Be a cranberry Parsifal
Feta cappuccino melt
Be a pencil lover
Take up that mug
Track Name: Scribbler
His ears are a-buzz
With extraneous sound
He is a tree on its side now
He has never seen
Such disgust
On a human face before

Scribbler

The will is there
To make into knots
Every empty encounter
He picks the sticker from
His new pen
And puts it to use

Scribbler
Track Name: Afters
I eat all of my dinner for you
Every pea and every carrot
Dirty gravy clots
And all of that cheap meat
My spoon bangs into crust and to plate
My place-mat fits my nasty place well
You have seen me eat it all up
And I hold it all in so well

Seeing your hunger in me, your pupil
My indigestion cripples me daily
Oblivious to bowel or intestine
You only see the mouth
Every mealtime is just a lesson
The dining room is just your classroom
The dinner table is your blackboard
And the cheese is chalk

I have no special dietary requirements
I will eat meat and I will eat gluten
As prescribed
By various ancient religious testaments
I loudly belch and laugh
“Bring me more fish! I have a hole!”
In sailor clothes I jig for you
In McDonalds, Burger King and KFC

I buckle with the weight
Of what’s on my plate
But I’ll find room for afters