I love how the lyrics can play on so many levels. Yesterday I was reading Pilgrim’s a Progress and it talked about a girl who cleaned a room of dust. It caught my attention when I read it, so when I heard “I'd won the right to clean the room…” I immediately thought back to Pilgrim’s Progress. Of course, it clearly is not an intended allusion, but maybe it was like a little bit of synchronicity for me. A bit of G=01g/e, if you will. Once again Newsom is doing her magic. Can’t wait for the album!
wait this is such a good catch and explains the line before it which I couldn’t parse before. It makes some sense as : all the gaps as a pilgrim for good and only good through some lapse in a life long forgot I’d won the right to clean the room and transcribe the thoughts
I just watched an Andy Samberg interview where he said her music was really good but HOLY MOLEY 🥹 Her music just had me levitating like floating towards pie levitating
Not sure. But she’ll be playing at the Kilby Block Party in May this year, so we’ll probably get to hear these songs or more again soon. In the past, each time she previewed new music, there was always at least a year before the next album release. During the spring recital it was mentioned that she had originally planned to perform these songs the fall a year prior, so maybe the album is closer to being ready than we think.
(Work-in-progress transcription of the lyrics, a collaborative effort by many fans! There are still some gaps, and probably errors.) [HORNS] I see you coming down in your cherry wool coat, bare to the throat, like Marie at the Mill. Where might you go from your lowly amour, where they hoard you like gold in the hills? Sink from my side to the cold riverbed. Marie(Mary?), you'll go ahead; I will follow in time. The work keeps me here, with a few pioneers, magnetizing a permanent line. Save for the coat, there was nothing to bring. It was found you could sing; you were sent to the Bay. At seminary, you passed and were buried; I rose there the very next day. For if you weren’t born at the right time, my dear, just keep trying, and trying, and trying again. As for the end, it is not what you fear. You’re just slipping a glove from your hand, like this: down, down, down, down your wrist. Down, down, the list of lives, husbands and wives, dozens of times, around again, and then--- Out of all of the girls, heard my coloratura and called me the heir of Melba and myth. I crossed the Atlantic, from Boston to Nantes, on the hand of my dear Mr. Smith. Then came his heart(?) of perdition and sin, like a cold winter wind come to blow me away. I was impatient, and sought education on stage on the Champs-Élysées. I left on my own with the clothes on my back, and my own name intact, and my own bills to pay. I left him in debt with his feather ___(?) ‘Alouette, je te plumerai.’ I had the honor to sing Mendelssohn on the Ternary lawn for the brave and the few; but it was my joy to be called to Bayreuth, for who toiled a slave comes anew a prince, for gentler worthiness and merit won; who ruled a king may wander in rags for things done and undone, and done, and undone--- I wed Mr. Russak, a fan and producer of amateur music, all lambent(?) in pearls. Held court in Newport; amused myself before I threw off the veil of the world. And when in time he sank under the sea, what he deeded to me was enough to begin as secretary and past emissary. I rose through the ranks from within. My carnelian snuff bottle carved as a peach, and a small sterling wagon (well, that was part of a set)--- consigned to the waters of Elliott beach, left behind with your Pall Mall Gazette. And it was not luck put me there by his side, when the old Colonel died, and the Adepts appeared. And oh, what they shared! Well, you had to be there, but I’ll tell you if you wanna hear: “Henry, your work here is done. Annie will carry it on. Marie, write it all down, 'til the keynote is found.” You run it up and down, and round, and round, and round, and--- So I feed(?) as I could, all the gaps as a pill(?) were for good, and only good. Through some lapse in a life long forgot, I'd won the right to clean the room and transcribe the thoughts of the boy from the beach, with his pervious soul. Poor little teacher, got you doing as you’re told! And even so, there is danger here in the sun. Honey, tell me what has Sirius done? I hear it all, but I cannot assume none may(?) follow to the octagon room. The boy from the beach beckoned and called(???) Lord, he’ll leave(??) and unhand it all(???) I see the clock on the wall; I hear the knock on the door, but that is all! [HORNS] And when my work here is through--- Henry, will you find me anew? Little stranger, my old friend, woo me and win me again, and again, and again. All over again. All over again. All over again. There’s a lodger in me, larger than me. Saw the cross in the garden, where your Process came to be and cut you free. Though your father tried to reunite with you, and Nitya was allowed to die, despite the lies, we are grist in the mill. On the list, I am Helios still, Sun-Wielder, Brünnhilde's running, she is running around, and round x6
I love how the lyrics can play on so many levels. Yesterday I was reading Pilgrim’s a Progress and it talked about a girl who cleaned a room of dust. It caught my attention when I read it, so when I heard “I'd won the right to clean the room…” I immediately thought back to Pilgrim’s Progress. Of course, it clearly is not an intended allusion, but maybe it was like a little bit of synchronicity for me. A bit of G=01g/e, if you will. Once again Newsom is doing her magic. Can’t wait for the album!
wait this is such a good catch and explains the line before it which I couldn’t parse before. It makes some sense as :
all the gaps as a pilgrim for good and only good
through some lapse in a life long forgot
I’d won the right to clean the room and transcribe the thoughts
Thank you God for this heavenly Angel
I just watched an Andy Samberg interview where he said her music was really good but HOLY MOLEY 🥹 Her music just had me levitating like floating towards pie levitating
I think another Joanna album could fix me
poor lil teacher got you doing as you're told !
does anyone know how far we are from a new album? has any information been found? it's ben 6 months since this performance and nothing.
Not sure. But she’ll be playing at the Kilby Block Party in May this year, so we’ll probably get to hear these songs or more again soon. In the past, each time she previewed new music, there was always at least a year before the next album release.
During the spring recital it was mentioned that she had originally planned to perform these songs the fall a year prior, so maybe the album is closer to being ready than we think.
(Work-in-progress transcription of the lyrics, a collaborative effort by many fans! There are still some gaps, and probably errors.)
[HORNS]
I see you coming down in your cherry wool coat,
bare to the throat, like Marie at the Mill.
Where might you go from your lowly amour,
where they hoard you like gold in the hills?
Sink from my side to the cold riverbed.
Marie(Mary?), you'll go ahead; I will follow in time.
The work keeps me here, with a few pioneers,
magnetizing a permanent line.
Save for the coat, there was nothing to bring.
It was found you could sing; you were sent to the Bay.
At seminary, you passed and were buried;
I rose there the very next day.
For if you weren’t born at the right time, my dear,
just keep trying, and trying, and trying again.
As for the end, it is not what you fear.
You’re just slipping a glove from your hand,
like this:
down, down, down, down
your wrist.
Down, down,
the list of lives,
husbands and wives,
dozens of times,
around again, and then---
Out of all of the girls, heard my coloratura
and called me the heir of Melba and myth.
I crossed the Atlantic, from Boston to Nantes,
on the hand of my dear Mr. Smith.
Then came his heart(?) of perdition and sin,
like a cold winter wind come to blow me away.
I was impatient, and sought education
on stage on the Champs-Élysées.
I left on my own with the clothes on my back,
and my own name intact, and my own bills to pay.
I left him in debt with his feather ___(?)
‘Alouette, je te plumerai.’
I had the honor to sing Mendelssohn
on the Ternary lawn for the brave and the few;
but it was my joy to be called to Bayreuth,
for who toiled a slave comes anew
a prince,
for gentler worthiness
and merit won; who ruled a king
may wander in rags
for things done
and undone, and done, and undone---
I wed Mr. Russak, a fan and producer
of amateur music, all lambent(?) in pearls.
Held court in Newport; amused myself before
I threw off the veil of the world.
And when in time he sank under the sea,
what he deeded to me was enough to begin
as secretary and past emissary.
I rose through the ranks from within.
My carnelian snuff bottle carved as a peach,
and a small sterling wagon (well, that was part of a set)---
consigned to the waters of Elliott beach,
left behind with your Pall Mall Gazette.
And it was not luck put me there by his side,
when the old Colonel died, and the Adepts appeared.
And oh, what they shared! Well, you had to be there,
but I’ll tell you if you wanna hear:
“Henry, your work here is done.
Annie will carry it on.
Marie, write it all down,
'til the keynote is found.”
You run it up and down,
and round, and round, and round, and---
So I feed(?) as I could,
all the gaps as a pill(?) were for good, and only good.
Through some lapse in a life long forgot,
I'd won the right to clean the room and transcribe the thoughts of
the boy from the beach, with his pervious soul.
Poor little teacher, got you doing as you’re told!
And even so, there is danger here in the sun.
Honey, tell me what has Sirius done?
I hear it all, but I cannot assume
none may(?) follow to the octagon room.
The boy from the beach beckoned and called(???)
Lord, he’ll leave(??) and unhand it all(???)
I see the clock on the wall;
I hear the knock on the door,
but that is all!
[HORNS]
And when my work here is through---
Henry, will you find me anew?
Little stranger, my old friend,
woo me and win me again,
and again, and again.
All over again.
All over again.
All over again.
There’s a lodger in me,
larger than me.
Saw the cross in the garden,
where your Process came to be
and cut you free.
Though your father tried to reunite with you,
and Nitya was allowed to die,
despite the lies, we are grist in the mill.
On the list, I am Helios still,
Sun-Wielder,
Brünnhilde's
running, she is
running around, and round x6
Thank you so much 💓
"Then came this talk of perdition and sin" is what I hear.
WOW her lyrics are not easy to guess at and you did a great job
coloratura?
champs-elysees?
work in progress huh. impressive.
Starting from 4:34 is one of, if not the most beautiful chord progressions she's ever made
gorgeous.
Wait. Is this new music?!
Yes, one of five new songs she debuted at Fleet Foxes' spring recital in March.
Didn't see those songs coming...! Thanks!
thank you