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Songs from the Bench

by Crush Limbo

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1.
Behold! Homunculus! 03:34
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Oh! My nerves are exhausted. Building scaffolds to raise high your dreams. The hills are littered with corpses of those who would kick out the beams. And, oh, my brain is fractured ... a pane of spider-veined glass. Throwing light through a tower of grotesque reveries, keeping vigil for those dearly past. chorus: Bits of bone and pixie dust Sun on stone, willow white and rust Blood and semen, born of lust Behold, our deformed Homunculus! [not sung but imagined] Upon a daily diet he feeds Earthworms, dung and lavender seeds Putrid milk and honey mead the only sustenance he needs. I know you consider it caustic My manifesto, written out in memes. Some days you even think I’ve lost it. That I’m coming apart at the seems. Oh! My nerves are exhausted, building scaffolds to raise high your dreams. The hills are littered with the corpses of those who would kick out the beams. chorus: Bits of bone and pixie dust. Sun on stone, willow white and rust. Blood and semen. Born of lust. Behold, our deformed Homunculus! [not sung but imagined] Upon a daily diet he feeds Earthworms, dung and lavender seeds Putrid milk and honey mead the only sustenance he needs.
2.
Mirror's Dumb Eyes 03:51
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You had me prostrate on the floor, begging, "Leave now and don't come back no more!" But I didn't think you'd take me at my word. All those other times you said, "Don't be absurd.” Now I'm thinking this time you must be gone; you took the paintings and the Louis XV divan. Now I've nowhere to fling myself and heave my sighs, Since you called my bluff and said goodbye. My deadpan mask was a lie. You called my bluff with goodbye No one here to ask: "why?" But this mirror's dumb eyes. I found the note you left behind, the one you wrote that I refused to pay any mind. Now, I read through salty brine of tears; bitterness, not sweetened by the years. But your words they bear no trace of spite, nor a condescending need to prove you were right. Now, I guess you could say I’m not chuffed, since you called my bluff and said goodbye. My poker face was a lie. You called my bluff with goodbye No one here to ask: "why?" But this mirror's dumb eyes.
3.
Melancholy Ninja 04:45
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Floating through the ruins of protracted afternoons. Sneaking blue through cover of another spectral moon. He’s going through the motions. by muscle memory. He’s working through emotions. Shinobu Hazure. Disguises were so easy, then before he lost his touch. Surprise attacks came frequently and soon became too much. The only thing that changes are the rings around the eyes; perspective rearranges and renders longer sighs. Melancholy Ninja, suffering from injuries you won’t see. The Number One rule is invisibility. Melancholy Ninja: Don’t let the darkness singe ya, oh no. As far as motivation, it’s been gone for quite a while. But the Meisner book on method helps him resurrect a smile. Trying on the uniform he never quite outgrew feels like a Kabuki play: Shinobi Shozoku. Melancholy Ninja Don’t let the darkness singe ya, oh no. Now there’s no one left to fight; you’re hiding in plain sight. Rummaging the bric-a-brac for evidence—a clue. You tried to get too close to the foe you never knew The only thing that changes are the rings around the eyes. Perspective rearranges and renders longer sighs. Melancholy Ninja suffering from injuries you won’t see. The Number One rule is invisibility. Melancholy Ninja don’t let the darkness singe ya, oh no.
4.
The King's Last Breath 04:30
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The livid Queen-- her son, inspired-- traveled north to the farthest shire. And there, between them crackling fire, against their King they did conspire. But not with quick and painless death, would they steal the King's last breath. The King (meanwhile) indulged the jester's song, but soon grew tired as days grew long. He longed for more than courtly delights, and the emptiness that filled his nights No, never would their swords unsheathe. But still they'd lay their mourning wreaths. The church bell tolled on the old high street, as morning sun stole shadows 'neath their feet. The livid Queen-- her son, inspired-- traveled south from the farthest shire. But not with quick and painless death, would they steal the King's last breath.
5.
Simulator 03:09
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Simulator Stimulator Simulator Stimulate her Turn on the mood box, honey.
Dial in number three seven five
Feel the warm rush of blood
That's the wisdom of the buzzing hive.
 Simulator Stimulate her Simulator Stimulator You feel the tentacles spreading to deeper places every day. By degrees, they're touching the parts you'd hidden away. Simulator Stimulate her Simulator Stimulator You sense the emptiness But you're too numb to react You faced the loneliness now, you're never going back Mind racing like a dog down a track Chasing rabbits on a rail You can almost touch … touch its tail  But you’re not the dog— No!—the rabbit is you! Simulator Stimulate her Simulator Stimulator
6.
Whisper to a Flickering Flame 03:13
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[V1] I sit in the back garden; find not much has changed, through the time-lapse shadows of unrelenting days. [V2] The shrubs are overgrown and they poke right through the fence we tied ourselves, is now split in two. [BRIDGE] I should mend that fence and revive the dying bushes the stray cats lie supine on all the cushions. They yowl as they do it and it has me all in fits ‘cause they’re gettin’ some and I’m a forced celibate [V3] Leaves still gather then they get swept away The skeletal branches seem to snicker as they sway [V4] Wardrobes mould then they wither and bend In the alley where the trash pile never ends. [CHORUS] The one left behind is to blame There’s no way to avoid that fact I whisper to the flickering flame but it never answers me back. [V5] Larvae turn to pupa turn to moths inside the pantry. They flit about the bric a brac ... that china you once fancied [V6, 3] Leaves still gather and leaves get swept away The skeletal branches seem to speak as they sway [CHORUS] The one left behind must be to blame There’s no way to avoid that fact I whisper to the flickering flame but it never answers me back. /// [CHORUS] I sit and wonder as I wait Was there some way for me to mitigate and it keeps me up at night blinking like an old porch light. [V7 - outro] The one left behind is to blame There’s no way to avoid that fact I whisper to the flickering flame but it never answers me back.
7.
Fazes of the Moo 02:49
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Stained and standing in a patch of your sun. Your rose glass window it painted me a Hun Walking over stones  beneath cold Moorish walls Searching for your balustrade Writing out the details of our slow descent In tragicomic emails  that were never sent. Hone the wordplay w/ metaphor and pun Save it for another day of masochistic fun Throwing dreams  of radiant reflection  to the gobsmacked Miltons verdant with prayer. Far in the corner of a dust-filled room I beat the piano with a dirty balloon Your pitter patter spoken out of tune it stirs the batter beneath the phases of the moon When a dishwater sky piles high upon your being you’ll came to know without really ever seeing It’ll come with some warning but never on time so give death no quarter just a nickel and a dime And if your dreams slip away like coins through torn jeans trade in your cow for a handful of beans climb right up through that dishwater sky never mind that giant and his fie fo fo fie Far in the corner of a dust-filled room I beat the piano with a dirty balloon Your pitter patter spoken out of tune it stirs the batter beneath the phases of the moon
8.
At the End of the Day 03:16
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You can throw them all away: the medals i've won for the good deeds I've done; the tender songs sung. It's hard to relate true joy, true fun with any of those things, so, when all said and done Just throw them all away. At the end of the day you had one thing to do and it ended in ruins So you try to escape, it follows when you run. like the parallax moon At the end of the day your warmed by the same sun So throw it all away ... and just move on. [imagined but not sung] There's been a recall of things I made with love you'll be paid back in full if you demand a refund. It's hard to relate pure joy, real fun with any of those things, so, when all said and done, Just throw them all away. At the end of the day you had one thing to do and you couldn't get it done you try to escape, but the parallax moon haunts you when you run. At the end of the day warmed by the same sun So you've got to deal with it and just move on At the end of the day you share the same sun So throw it all away forget and move on

about

** Be sure to check out Songs from the Sidelines, too!
crushlimbo.bandcamp.com/album/songs-from-the-sidelines

The songs that wound up on the sister releases Songs from the Sidelines and Songs from the Bench started as a way to relieve stress and pass the time during the 2020 pandemic. As they have during other uncertain and turbulent times in my life, writing and playing allowed me to work through some of the frustration, the fear, and the uncertainty.

I can't remember which song came first -- maybe "Once, When We Were Walking -- but pretty soon they came pouring out one after another until I had a gaggle of tunes elbowing each other for attention in my, now crowded, stay-at-home spot.

Since the songs were primarily written and recorded while in quarantine, and since I've long felt comfortably distanced from mainstream attention or acclaim "from the sidelines" and "from the bench" seemed apt titles.

Initially, when I intended to put all nineteen tracks on one record, I got some grandiose notion of a concept record with an arc that documented the state of the world in the spring/ summer of 2020. Eventually, though, I abandoned the concept album approach and just threw the lot of 'em onto two discs, and somewhat arbitrarily I might add.

One thing for sure is that both albums contain songs of isolation, longing, loss, heartbreak, sorrow and dread with notes of triumph and hope sprinkled in for good measure. They do stand as a pretty good personal document of what I thought and felt these many months during the pandemic (has it been months or years?).

Anyway, I hope you find something to grab onto among the lot of 'em!

Cheers!

Colm, a.k.a Crush

07/09/20

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released July 6, 2020

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Crush Limbo North Bergen, New Jersey

Crush Limbo is the stage name of NY-NJ-based musician Colm Clark.

It's bedroom pop meets Tin Pan Alley -- a world where glam gets it on with André Popp, teasing midlife symphonies from tear-shaped guordalins.

And in the grand tradition of Sondheim, Wonder, Bowie, and the Beatles — melody is key, baby, and tunes are where it's at. ... more

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