Jim Clements | A Failure

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Rock: Acoustic Folk: Alternative Folk Moods: Mood: Intellectual
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A Failure

by Jim Clements

The fourth album by Jim Clements.
Genre: Rock: Acoustic
Release Date: 

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  Song Share Time Download
1. Saul's Blood (A Dream)
3:43 album only
2. Not a Lot of Blood
4:39 album only
clip
3. The Comet I Was Waiting For
4:22 album only
clip
4. I Am Here for You
4:54 album only
clip
5. The Backup Plan
3:50 album only
clip
6. Why You Scream in the Night
4:47 album only
clip
7. The Advice Song (Just Give Up)
4:19 album only
clip
8. Fire Engine Blues
12:29 album only
Downloads are available as MP3-320 files.

ABOUT THIS ALBUM


Album Notes
Jim Clements: Vocals, Guitar, Synthesizers.
Richard Clements: Piano, Synthesizers.
Meghan B. Engel: Strings
David Gooblar: Synthesizers.
Ashley Karlin: Vocals.
Shawn Nourse: Drums.
Kevin Quain: Rhodes, B3 Organ, Accordion, Piano.
Dave Tompkins: Bass.

Written and produced by Jim Clements. Recorded and Mixed by Brian Rosemeyer at Mant Sound. Additional recording by Shawn Nourse at Nourse by Northwest Studio. Mastered by Mark Chalecki at Little Red Book Mastering, Los Angeles. Album design by Tia Seifert. Thank you to Tia Seifert, Richard Clements, Dave Gooblar, Rob Butterfield, Ian Huntley, Rob Mitchelson, Rolla Olak, Christine Clements, Rob Waller, Will Fox, and Ashley Ellis. Special thanks to Neil Leyton.

www.jimclementsmusic.com
@jimrclements

Saul’s Blood

Where are you going? Where are you going?
With Saul's Blood? With Saul's Blood?
I asked you a question. You didn't reply.
Should I keep waiting, or should I turn and go?

Who is that, love? Who is that, love?
He seems familiar, like a river.
I thought I was expected. I shouldn't have come,
But I'm glad I saw you so unfamiliar and young.

"Remember when I was just 17? My hair was long. My eyes a watery green.
You think you know me, but you've never known me.How I used to laugh!
And the boys would stop and stare and push and tear!”

Where are you going? Where are you going?
With Saul's Blood? With Saul's Blood?
The moon, it is smiling. I don't know at what.
And the river is rising.

Jim Clements: Guitar, Vocals
Ashley Karlin: Vocals
Shawn Nourse: Drums
Dave Tompkins: Bass
Richard Clements: Piano
Kevin Quain: B3 Organ
Meghan Engels: Violin
Dave Gooblar: Synthesizers


Not A Lot Of Blood

I remembered that song you quoted to me.
You said “you slipped in my pocket, along with my keys.”
See, I'm good enough to recall when I've been unkind.
But not good enough to really mind.
But don't say I'm bad. I'm not. I've got blood on my hands, but not a lot.

I said goodbye in a graveyard, so gracefully.
A little too perfect, even for me.
In my mind, it was raining, but that might not be true.
But I seem to recall kicking mud from my shoes. 
But don't say I'm bad. I'm not. I've got blood on my hands, but not a lot.

I'm sorry, you know, I will always be.
A terrible choice keeps making me.
If it helps at all, know that I struggle to sleep,
And if that's not quite true, I'd like it to be. 
But don't say I'm bad. I'm not. I've got blood on my hands, but not a lot.

And it's not because you weren't worth it.
It's because there were other things to do.

Jim Clements: Guitar, Vocals, Additional Percussion
Ashley Karlin: Vocals
Drums: Shawn Nourse
Bass: Dave Tompkins
Richard Clements: Piano
Meghan Engels: Violin, Viola, Cello
Dave Gooblar: Synthesizers


The Comet I Was Waiting For

I thought you were the jailer. It turned out we shared a cell.
I thought you’d stripped the color from my face. It turns out I wasn't well.
I thought the way you just half looked at me meant you were self-absorbed.
I did not consider for a moment that you might just be really bored.

I thought you'd bled away my energy. It turned out I just like couch.
And the fact you'd said nothing interesting was just because I'd tuned you out.
But just because it's not your fault at all doesn't mean the fault is mine.
"But it's implied," you said, quite forcefully, and quite a lot of times.

And the comet I was waiting for, well, it just sailed on by,
And I was left with dribble on my chin and all this extra time.

I tucked away my victory speech, I thought you wouldn't understand
Why I'd be thinking of the future when I could be watering the plants.
But I felt that at my funeral, you'd realize the truth,
As you sat slack-jawed in the cavalcade while they cursed you from the roofs.

And the comet I was waiting for, well, it just sailed on by,
And I was left with nothing in the bank, and all this extra time.

And Peggy, if that’s all there is, I don’t want to fucking dance.
I want an apology from mum and dad, I want my money back.
I never worked at conversation, or exercise, or love,
Because I was waiting for something bright to fall from somewhere up above.

And the comet I was waiting for, well, it just sailed on by,
And I was left with dribble on my chin and all this extra time.

And the comet I was waiting for, well, it just sailed on by,
And I was left with bodies strewn around, and all this extra time.

Jim Clements: Guitar, Vocals
Drums: Shawn Nourse
Bass: Dave Tompkins
Kevin Quain: Piano
Meghan Engels: Violin, Viola, Cello
Dave Gooblar: Organ


I Am Here For You

You’re the face in the dark pressed to the window.
You’re sewn in my sheets. The toys in the bed table.
You’re the hair on the brush in the drawer I won’t open.
The smell on the blankets I’ve given up folding.
And even I don’t want you, I still want everything:
The corners I cut when I picked out our wedding rings.
When you swam with the swans, knee-deep in your reflection.
Your precision of anger when I lost my direction.
The films that I ruined when I asked what they meant to you.
How you never believed that I can’t tell greens from blues.
The backseat of your car, which we only used once,
The same night I found out we wouldn’t last out the month.
 
I’m soft in the middle now. I have trouble breathing well.
Ttill when I smoke it’s because you can’t stand the smell.
I always wanted to touch you, but I was afraid of the fingerprints.
I tried to undress you but you were done up with safety pins.
Everyone that I’ve loved sits in me peacefully.
They never go away, but you, you bruise me with company.
When I’m damp in the night, trying to picture new faces,
I can only see costumes, positions, and places.
When I think of their bodies, I fill in the gaps with the scar on your hand, The hair on the small of your back.
And although you’re gone, you still choose my clothes for me.
I still trim your roses and pull out the darker weeds.
 
And I think of explorers, sun-stroked and stumbling,
Who just keep on moving, not looking for anything,
Just covering ground, past sun-bleached ribcages,
Knowing that knowing comes with time, and with age.
And a spray of butterflies, turning off their colours,
So that faith slips away, and certainty follows.
There’s a light that reveals; there’s a light that just blinds.
There are chains that give comfort, and chains that just bind.
Those who you forget when they’re out of your sight,
And those you’ve never met who are never out of your mind.
But I can’t look for others, I can barely see them.
When rocks break apart, I look for the heart of them.
 
And I’m still making up for you. Still waking up for you.
Still dressing well for you. Still working hard for you.
Still on my best for you. Still on my feet for you.
I still hold my pride and my decency dear for you.
I’m still standing here for you, but I am not waiting here for you.
I’m just here for you.
I’m just here for you.
I’m just here for you.
I’m just here for you.

Jim Clements: Vocals, Guitar, Synthesizers
Dave Tompkins: Bass
Richard Clements: Piano


Why You Scream In The Night

I didn't ask if I could bring you home, or if you wanted to stay.
You’ll leave when you’re strong enough to escape.
When you're scared, you run to me. I can't tell you how much that means.
How sweet you think it's safer here.
And I lay you down in the water because the water helps you sleep.
Then I pick you up just to lay you down again.
 
I make you listen while I sing, sharing my darkest things.
Maybe that's why you scream in the night.
Here there’s no mystery. There’s nothing here than I can’t see.
I wash you head to feet, every night.
And I lay you down in the water because the water helps you sleep.
Then I pick you up just to lay you down again.

Jim Clements: Vocals, Guitar
Ashley Karlin: Vocals
Dave Tompkins: Bass
Kevin Quain: Piano, B3 Organ, Accordion
Meghan Engels: Viola


The Backup Plan

I wanted to reveal everything inside of me,
But just in case there isn’t much to see,
I made a back-up plan and kept my fingers crossed.
I kept my fingers crossed.

But then there was a choice (and a choice ain’t always good):
To start a fire, or keep on chopping wood.
As soon as I had made that back-up plan, I’d already lost.
I was already lost.

But I can pay all my bills. I own a house. I'm taking pills.
And regrets? I've had a few. 
 
Still wondering if Renee meant what she said,
While Louise reads next to me in bed.
I’ve never made a choice, except the thousand every day too small to see.
Too small to see.

But love followed anyway, like sleep follows the day.
And regrets? I’ve had a few. 
 
There's snow knee high outside the door.
Here inside, the fireplace is warm.
Because life is long, and we’re all so tired. We’ve already lost.
We’re already lost.

Jim Clements: Guitar, Vocals
Ashley Karlin: Vocals
Dave Tompkins: Bass
Kevin Quain: Rhodes Piano, B3 Organ


The Advice Song (Just Give Up)

Don’t leave your bed. The floor’s too cold. There’s nothing in the fridge.
Don’t work out. You’ll just get tired. No one cares how you look.
Don't go to work. No one there likes you. You're not very good at it.
Don’t read a book. Nothing that you learn can change anything.
Don't go to a bar. You're looking for something that can’t be found in bars.

Don't share your thoughts. No one cares what you think. They're only waiting for their turn to talk.
Don't make new friends. You're not nine years old. They have all the friends they need.
(Your old friends might think of you with a smile, but only once in a while).
Don't have sex. You'll spend the whole time thinking you’re disappointing her.
Don't fall in love. This one's most important. You're far too delicate.

Don't express yourself. All you'll discover is you're not that interesting.
Don't be good. You'll just get angry that no one tries as hard as you.
Don’t be kind. You won’t get a medal. They’ll leave your body by the road.
Don't plan ahead. You might get cancer or commit suicide.
Or ignore all this, as I know you will. That's how bad things are.

Jim Clement: Vocals, Guitar
Dave Tompkins: Bass
Shawn Nourse: Drums
Richard Clements: Piano, Synthesizers
Meghan Engels: Violin, Viola, Cello
 

Fire Engine Blues

My crime was not so serious, they'd all forgotten what I'd done,
Between the time the trial had ended, and sentencing had begun.
But I was as tired as the jury, and I didn't see the harm
In trading one home for another, if the beds are just as warm.
Last night there was a fire somewhere out beyond the pen.
We put our noses to the window panes, and dreamed of being firemen.
When I was slightly freer than I am today,
I always took the first job that came my way.
But I had a gun on the outside, and everybody knew to stay away.

When they first brought me in here I had to give them all my things
They took some keys, some coins, my father's belt, and both of my wedding rings,
But they let me keep my cigarettes, which I traded for a page
Torn out of an old magazine, of a girl about my age.
I got a letter from a stranger, who heard about me in the news.
He said he wanted nothing, and it made me feel used.
So I did a drawing of halo, with nothing underneath,
And I mailed it to the stranger. After that he let me be.
I had a gun on the outside, and everybody knew to stay away.
 
The man who shares my bunk with me does bird calls in his sleep.
When he’s awake he talks of nothing but what he’d like to eat.
He says he has a baby, and he thinks of her more now
Than he could when he lived with her. You can see it makes him proud.
There's a scar beneath my navel that I've not noticed before.
It matches one my mother's had from before I was born.
I would ask her what it means, but she hasn't got a phone.
Like me, she's at her happiest when she's left alone.
I had a gun on the outside so everybody knew to stay away.
 
In the yard I walk in circles as there's nowhere else to go,
In the autumn there are falling leaves, and in the winter there is snow.
The guards are never changing, which comforts me at least,
And there's a cook inside the kitchen, and in the chapel there's a priest.
And there's a camera in the chapel, with no red light to show it's on.
I don't go there to say prayers, as I've done nothing wrong, 
But I put both hands together, just to touch and to be touched,
And I try not to look happy, in case I’m being watched.
I had a gun on the outside, and everybody knew to stay away.
 
I don’t think of getting out, but I keep both eyes on the gate,
To see who they're letting in, in case I recognize a face.
One day I saw them dragging in a boy in a paper crown,
Who looked terrified to be here, but I'm sure is fine by now.
Sometimes my cellmate lets me talk about the things that trouble me, 
And he nods and smiles as he flicks through a garden magazine.
Sometimes my door is left unlocked, which I imagine is a test.
My dreams have gotten stranger. I sleep now less and less.
I had a gun on the outside, and everybody knew to stay away.

Jim Clements: Vocals, Guitar
Dave Tompkins: Bass
Kevin Quain: Piano, B3 Organ
Meghan Engels: Violin

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