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dave graney - knock yourself out (2009 solo album)

by dave graney

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    2009 solo dave graney cd. The only one that's been credited so.
    a "filthy r&b/ electro disc".

    Includes unlimited streaming of dave graney - knock yourself out (2009 solo album) via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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as a concept I know ......incredible but I’m a reality knock yourself out go your hardest you’re only human .......so am I rock’n’roll is where I hide, how great was that? you’re just too hip baby don’t mess with the blood I’m not afraid to be heavy wild stuff, lke an oil well blowin' it never stopped I never tapped out all i did was plug in and wail I went down south into the underwirld then up I flew! I was playin with the rooms I’d make the walls disappear even when I was an insider I was an outsider I knew the time all the while I’m a man I stuck my head and my hand up I stood up knock yoursdelf out as a concept I know .........incredible but the world deserves somethin' great once in a while I’m gonna release your soul did you hear about the melbounre mafia? I told you about that I’m in the future now Comrades! I have marched on! ........I address you from above there he goes with his eye out! my schtick weighs a ton gold! where did this shit come from where does it go? newspapers need me radio needs me I’m a volunteer nobody asked me to be so great Kyle and Jackie O .......thin gruel .................sav soup thats the coloured water when you take the hot dogs out death by a thousand sucks that guy would give a dogs arse heartburn je suis le grand bouffe un tres grande homme! shitly!shitly! I write in the street I pick up on the word thats dropped in the open for anybody to hear I like the stuff thats been handled I talk out loud I’m in the mix in the crowd I ain’t no joke shocking and awesome I use the tongues actually , you do know what I’m talkin’ about! as a concept I know .....incredible but I’m a reality knock yourself out go your hardest you’re only human ...........so am I I’m a man I stuck my head and my hand up I stood up knock yoursdelf out go your hardest you’re only human so am I haters! ignorers more like! get in the queue defend your radio station defend channel nine I can’t know what you mean, now what I mean? night of the wolverine who could bte my style suck it and go blind! theywould die how much further could they take it? give up! I’ve got dimenssions I’ve got form I will have always been here before
back in those days when when I was deep in action way down in the bottom of the street breaking out - finding my feet now I look back - from the clear air and see that as my mythic time I never knew it was then or never theres the boy leaving- theres the boy dreaming theres the boy gasping for air - theres the boy changed - coming home the leaving and the returning heres the man going over the story trying to fit it all in trying to put it all together was there a pattern down below? down on earth - the boy races across a giant letter X up above the man sits and sees a word with a tiny figure scurrying across and the women when you were struggling - giant and careless and the women when you were coming and going - tiny and pleading and the waiting because you knew you had to wait time was of the essence - and the timing of the time - the flux you could squirrel away a day and come back later and it all be still up, still alive it seemed other times you turned to speak and the scene jumped out of your mind it was then or never and who would have believed that one day we would be so weak that we would look back on those days of struggle and torment , those days when we were under the ground in violent struggle, who would have seen then the sight of us looking back and seeing ourselves in some sort of wonderland? there we were looking back at ourselves like lost shoppers in an endless mall - with no money and no credit and no id- no ID and we've walked into the strangest shop - and there we are blind to the future - blind to the past - stuck in the present still blasting off - spending fuel at an incredible rate flying by - missing stops - not keeping in touch swimming out way too far - "come back!"…we yell - from the middle of the lake… when we had nothing - what we had we treasured so it was terrible to want so much so hard - that you put up with so much and made the best of so little I must be getting stupid
I've had to go in closer to people than I would've really wanted to Ideally we would have never met I'd have popped you so quick you wouldn't know I'd have been quick and clean my hands and mouth and and feet are trained for artful destruction I know the moves I have to make so you'll never get up again you've felt my breath upon your neck I left a tooth on your glove to get a game going I had to let you come in close and hung on so you'd go some kind of distance I took the fight to you on a plate I was bored you had a night out ideally we would have never met the game got small while I was training I've had to go in closer to people than I really wanted to I was built for a more remote style more detached punching your lights out from one inch away while holding your eyes up on a ridge
you’re just like me I can tell you’re not really here you’re not yourself the faraway look your voice trailing off you’re just like me I can tell how many of us are there? are we all made of sand? you’re makin the wrong moves tryin to distract not really payin attention not expectin anyone to notice you’re just like me I can tell god help us all there’s somebody there but nobody is here nothin is as it seems we are all in the most slack disguise you’re just like me I can tell you don’t care much anymore but you don’t not care enough to give yourself up to this world you’re just like me I can tell your mind is somewhere else you’re not really yourself thank christ we’re not drivin we’re just along for the ride we don’t like it but we don’t know any other way to get by you’re just like me I can tell I’ve smoked you out you like it and you don’t you don’t have the energy anymore to be on to be singing
dylan the indie fake the recurring flake pushed onto the stage never asked to be here never volunteered pure as nothin’ aahhh...heyyyy! dylan the indie fake I mean cant you see the mascara and pancake minstrelsy ! blackface! gee did I do that? I’m not sayin its bad, the fake the forgery sometimes refines whatever it started from and takes it to another , later world a different context out of context it concentrates the power just dont gimme none of that mystic, holy bullshit dylan the indie fake the recurring flake dylan the indie fake hes been tryin to tell you for year snow hes pointin at somethin and makin faces and you just staer youre always askin for ashtrays dylan the indie fake he was just seein how much liberty he could take all dressed up liek a regency rake dylan the indie fake
I need my guitar I need to play some stoopid licks over and over and let my mind out to wander whie I make the shapes and move the box play some old songs, play omethin’ new follow a train of string somewhere I need my guitar that might sound naff toa civilian all you platers you know what I’m talkin’ about I need my guitar I need my guitar I‘ve got two hands one picks the otehr makes the shapes one dampens one hammers on I need my guitar I need my guitar to cool my mind and lay a web a chart ove rmy scattered thoughts like a navigator crossin’ an unknown sea I got to step off and sail away I need my guitar I need to make somethin’ out of a foolish notion to string somethin’ out as far as it will hold and move it down a tone I’m sittin ata station I’m feelin antsy I want to run my fingers across a fretboard I need my guitar I need to be idling and connected to something else a thought that I can play again but slower I need my guitar
sellout! 04:40
we were movin right along shufflin down the footpath then a bridge and a cul de sac everybody turned around and looked SELL OUT! while you can SELL OUT! youd be mad not to! time was people cared about what they were they were composed they had a story a beginning and an end hope was held out SELL OUT! while you can! you dont know what youve got in a bank a public bank- mob consciousness you strayed into the circle and were surrounded you cant get out SELL OUT! while you can! SELL OUT! before they move onto somebody else you dont know how much youve got left in your tank youve been pulled along by the crowd this far how long would you have lasted by yourself? and now theyve turned on you for some reason SELL OUT! quick! you got the look SELL OUT! while you can! somethin you did has clicked with this room do it again! SELL OUT! before the tide turns ! and you know it will SELL OUT! while you can! it used to be a perjorative term of abuse once upon a time people gave a shit SELL OUT! while you can! back when everybody wanted out when there was a huge mass in the middle and the wagons circled and wild ones whooped and hollered all through the night SELL OUT! while you can! it was a shame a public execution of the lame now of course we live in simpler times and to not take the money and run is the biggest crime of all cos theres nuthin to do and nowhere to go and the cycloptic gaze goes down and around liek a mad searchlight on opening night and the crowd hasnt gathered for no show and no one is here and they gotta find an it girl or a sweater boy and that person has gotta take the cake SELL OUT! you know you cant win and neither can you lose any more than you can now if it gets to be your turn if you click if you get into a groove you must work it all you can while you can cos the mob can always turn turn ugly and youre still the game but you are being played to death
the madness of my cods the codness of my being pulling my love down from wherever it was pulling me back down to earth under the earth a cavern of flesh dank and vegetable takin my mind out of it I was here a moment ago with things to do and people to see later Hotness! Heat! I could throw one into a hollow log! not like when I was young when I was ridin the rocket I had some reflexes then I could make some poise out of nuthin’ now I’m a swamp creature and the crude is close to the surface black gold dark and gurgling hotness I cant believe myself last ride of a mad, blind cowboy throwin one into the world hotness heat throwin one into the world, well 1/2 of it throwin one into a hollow log a dog on a chain and not just for practice, for real! I need it! didja know the brain sits steeped in semen ? and you women think that way too? primordial cooze antediluvian spoof I’m chained to an idiot, I’m caught in a hairy lasso I am not winged only in the wounded sense standin on a street corner waitin for anyone I am horned I understand that unicorny stuff I am shod and bewigged and foolish I am not winged , only in the wounded sense I copped a beauty, a flesh wound I ain’t just horny, I am horned it ain’t cute nor funny I’m takin a solo, and the sheet music keeps happening and the train aint gonna stop its an old song, I must know how it goes but I keep gettin’ surprised , I’m so dumb I am cleft, I am horned I am bereft of reason this girl in the hood with the enormous shades and the earphones is drivin’ me insane I will assume the heroic pose paper in one hand, pencil flyin’ across the page words tumblin’ from my hand I look away as I write like a guitar player I am horned I am hooved, grey silver back smilin best I have heard the news, theres some sort of rockin’ tonight theres a whole lotta shakin’ gin on I’m ready teddy I’m cocked and loaded I’m lookin for some tush I understand nothin’ but I can explain everything The lion I shoot, and I never miss...would you lay down while I have one I’m bad I’m ripe I’m rotten I aint thinkin I am rockin the train is lookin for a station and I am nothin but shame I am shame full I am a little red rooster, please drive me home I have grown so ugly I looked into the mirror....oooooh! I’m born to kill I am become death I am the stuff of poems, I am the greatest , I am the base matter its sad....I’m my only hope love pull us down where we belong dont worry I dont exist this is just a voice from the wind are you a model? are there thousands just like you?
so easy 02:47
so easy to find an enemy , so hard to find a friend so far to go to feel a generous soul into the past, over the sea everybodys on the lookout for someone whos gonna sink the slippers in better to get in first its the way of the world, the real world, pal so hard to drop my hands from my face to shade my guts for a while so easy to find an enemy , so hard to find a friend we're cuttin each others throats and steppin on the faces of the rest yeah we won't be comin back this way (it's so sad we couldn't have had the brains) fightin over this, fightin over that property, a place in the queue so hard to imagine a world outside where it doesn't have to be this way so easy to fall in hate the night swamps the day ,see a monster in a good friend so easy to find an enemy , so hard to find a friend so far to go to feel a generous soul into the past, over the sea
I don’t wanna go bush I’ll tell you why out on the backroads those narrow roads seem to be elevated its like you’re on a bridge and the land is the sea you could fall off any time the backroads of naracoorte bulbous,maggotted,flyblown sheep lonely crows, roaming murderous goats in your way and then Dominic! Coming along silently, all dressed in heavy cloth with his horse and buggy never lookin’ at you at least while you’re lookin’ at him and people stare with their hungry eyes taking you into their dry, halfclosed eyes and they talk out of the sides of their mouths and even the flies are goin’ mad no I don’t wanna go bush I wanna stay here just on the edge of the city so I can see the valley, the coast and the plain I wanna keep my eye on all of ’em I don’t wanna go bush that’s where things catch up with you like the branches reach down and grab ya and you have to make do and get on with it and don’t be silly
walkin the streets lookin for a way out pubs are shut to me car yards and supermarkets stroke mag shops pockets are empty me and a cop car down in the bottom I do the fuckin 'round 'round here course I'm talkin now now I'm in a place where I can see myself back then I'm fallin down my heads under a trucks tyre I put it there I'm blind I'm underneath the world I do the fuckin 'round 'round here walkin the street runnin out of the world back livin with my folks sick of bummin them out too sleepin in the shed too drunk to get in again I do the fuckin 'round 'round here the wind is moanin through me I'm breathin hard my eyes are closed I learned to control my pulse somewhere who am I talkin to?
2068 babe 07:45
"68 babe, 68 lets get it straight babe, 68 don't want any o' those golden tones laid back summer nights flowers , sweetness lights afterglow 68 babe bring on the broken glass, the petrol fumes the shoutin' the runnin' the class the idea, the act the truncheons, the barricades 68 babe you keep sayin' you weren't even born then hey the times are always changin' your eyes can see, your eyes can see so much more includin' those before you know I got a book of perfumed pictures Richard Burton picked 'em up at the bazaar you know those eastern potentates really knew how to take their time 68 babe, talk some crap don't turn your back on your class, yeah, turn your back on your class I know we'll have to do without the creature comforts the cushions, the shades people who know how to behave 68 babe I had it with the good of the nation 68 babe, molotov cocktails , shaken and thrown the stooges rehearsin in an ann arbor basement stoned underground railways, pistol packin weathermen wheatfields, motels, lost highways wichita lineman singin in the wire deserted playgrounds, dune buggies, pianos in the sand burned out space capsules return each night grievin' astro widow chartin her lovers flight 68 babe assassinate our love watch your bourgeois feelins as the show lie about your past the struggle, the soup, the freight trains 68 babe, assassinate my pants I'll be your candidate I'll feature in your revolutionary plans 68 babe my love is a long range missile you got me in your scope 68 babe make me a part of your plans indoctrinate me babe 68 babe everythin' is camouflaged everythin' is black and white 68 me babe, set my world to rights everybody knows, everybody knows everythin' I know the shop floor is empty and the factory stacks are closed the times are a changin' but the frontier is comin back only we're on the other side and we're gonna be made sense of as we choose our soft drinks 68 babe, rise against your oppressor recognise him, fear and loathe her 68 babe, read the riot act assassinate some desire 68 babe Graney Sir David Lt Colonel Australia Cavalry Pacific theatre it was a righteous, good war almost fun bohemian, international, 30 year old police action imported records imported magazines cold hard stares walkin down the street we believed in the mob, the genius of the crowd they threw half full bottles from passing cars stopped and chased us down we had to lose we had to lose thats what it was all about we had to lose we were inside enemy territory they fell asleep across our supply lines...."


“Knock yourself out” is the new album from Dave Graney. its a solo album though longtime collaborator Clare Moore was very much involved in the recording , writing and arranging of many tracks. It follows the jazz r”n”b masterwork of 2008 “we wuz curious” which was credited to their collective “The Lurid Yellow Mist”.
The title is another boxing allusion . ( “we wuz robbed!” - “Knock yourself out!”) In Dave Graneys way of speaking, its an invitiation to “go your hardest!” Its a positive lick. “Knock yourself out”.C’mon!
Its not a guy with an acoustic guitar and its a very feisty and upbeat set. Dave wants it to be called an “electro boogie” album as it has a kind of keyboard driven wonk sound in some parts.
Dave Graney’s music is not generic. Its not rootsy or pop but it kind of is as well.
Its Dave Graney music. He started to write songs in the post punk period when mythology and ideology and self expression and mythology were all screwed up and meeting head on. Everybody wrote songs about their own situation then, standing outside the disco, about to walk in.
Hes always up to something but American music has always been an inspiration and his own drama as an Australian artist and musician has thrilled him as well.
So here he is again, album number twenty something, standing outside the disco, about to walk in, “Knock yourself out!”

I call this record a filthy r’n’b set or an electro boogie album. Its a solo album but its not a guy with an acoustic guitar. I play most of the instruments except for the drums which Clare Moore takes care of, either her trusty vintage Gretsch kit which she has had since the Moodists days or she took the sounds from her keyboard and arranged them as she saw fit. I wrote all the lyrics and music except for three which Clare either set up for me or worked on with me. Stu Thomas plays amazing bass on two songs and sings on others and Stu Perera plays lead guitar licks on three. I play electric guitar, bass and keys on all the others. I recorded and mixed it at our studio, the Ponderosa.

The title track , “knock yourself out” , started when Plutonic asked me to drop a cameo on his last album. I dropped the whole lyric for him. It didn’t fit his idea so he left it with me. While I was away on a rare solo tour Clare set it to this rhythm track. Voila!
Like a lot of the songs it has some lyrical blues licks which I took in early in my life and they stayed with me. I keep saying “ as a concept- incredible! But I’m a reality!” Its something I remember Morris Day from the Time ( Princes rival in Purple Rain”) saying to an interviewer once. It stuck with me....
“It was then or never” is a groove that came out of nowhere. Its a retrospective kind of song. From high up in the air. We had the track going already and then Stu Thomas really lifted it with his amazing bass line and sound.
“honky tonk rope a dope” is , like the title track, another boxing allusion. Muhammad Ali played the “rope a dope” on George Foreman in Zaire in 1974. He fell back on the ropes and allowed George to punch him for ten rounds. Eventually George punched himself out. i mean he had no more punches to throw. Ali then turned on him. Its a “Honky Tonk rope a dope” when I’m playing in the clubs is what I’m asserting.
“Bodysnatcher Blues” is a one note boogie I’ve been working on for a few years. The note is E7. I always liked those fifties sci fi flicks with their commie pinko terror undertones.
Clare Moore cooked the music up for “Dylan the indie fake” while I was away on a rare solo tour. I fit the words to it in one take. I use a vocoder on my vocals and an octaver and a fuzz on my guitar. I like fakes. Real things are often overrated. More fake in a way too. In the music field anyway. LIke I say in the song, I like the fakes. My favourite parts of this song are musical.

“I need my guitar” is me on guitar, keys and bass and Care on drums. Stu Perera does the spindly lead notes. Its one of my songs for the players. Its the most recent song and I wrote it in a time of great anguish.

“Sellout!” is another track that Clare Moore cooked up for me. She started from an acoustic guitar groove I’d laid down. Stu Thomas dropped in that amazing propulsive bass.
“Throwin one into the world” is basically that filthy r’n’b I was talkin’ about. I play the bass and the rhythm guitar and the organ and Stu Perera plays all the great r’n’b licks. Clare Moore played and edited the drums and percussion. The song ends with me throwin out more of those old lyrical blues licks, Little red roosters and growin so ugly and shootin lions etc. Its a song about being a man.
“So easy” is a countrypolitan kind of groove.I tried to make the vocal sound like a movie voice over. In general , I mix teh voice up high so tehres no lyric sheet on teh album. Ifigure if you need one of them the voice sn't loud enough.
“I dont wanna go bush” is more atonal country blues with latin discords pushing it along the very edges of a tune.I was rememberinga visit to teh country when i was a kid.
“Oakleigh Bowie Blues” is just that. the Oakleigh Bowies” were a gang of sharpies I think I heard about sometime. Maybe I dreamt it? The song concerns a tough guy down on his very last bit of luck.
“2068 babe” is an expanded version of a song of mine put out by a UK label in 2008. It needed more guitars and organ and vocals and a drum beat so i added them all. I play everything. Its almost eight minutes long and is a rumination along a certain period of time. It was “68” before, a time of great power shifts and conflict that I liked the ring of , so I have launched it into the future , “2068 babe”.


released October 11, 2013

music by dave graney and clare moore with bass by stu thomas on several tracks and guitar by stuart perera on some as well. Mostly dave graney on guitars and bass and clare moore on drums, percussion and keys.


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dave graney Melbourne, Australia

From Melbourne, Australia.
Dave Graney and Clare Moore were once in the Moodists, singer and drummer respectively.Then there was the Coral Snakes and and now Dave Graney and the mistLY.
Stu Thomas on bass since 2004 and Stuart Perera on guitar since 1998
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