The Skys a Soft Target

by Pink Stainless Tail

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    WAREHOUSE FIND!

    Originally issued in September 2003, we've just found a few spare copies of the first PST disc to sell! It's a five track disc in jewel case with three-panel booklet designed by Harry with stupid sleeve notes by Simon and blurry photos.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Skys a Soft Target via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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about

(NB The track 'Godtsar' is omitted from this online version)

Surreal guitar rock featuring Harry Howard from These Immortal Souls on guitar. Their debut EP comes across like a late 70s post-punk take on psychedelica, kind of like Red Krayola fronted by a manic William Burroughs on a peyote binge... - Rene Schaeffer - Mess & Noise

Good good good! Flailing early 80's no-wave sound with classic Happy Mondays shuffle… Authentic post modern pop. Morgan Fisher would love this! - Cumbersome Records

credits

released September 26, 2003

Nick Boddington (bass)
Harry Howard (guitar)
Sonke Rickertsen (drums)
Simon Strong (voice)

Recorded and mixed with Adrian at Incubator.
Cover: Caesar.

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about

Pink Stainless Tail Melbourne, Australia

PST is/was/ever will be: Nick Boddington (bass), Harry Howard (guitar), Sonke Rickertsen (drums), Simon Strong (voice).

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Track Name: Blood Sugar Dropping
Your brain is a sweet shop so what will you choose
You like the red ones and I like the blues
The red ones are hard but the hard ones are easy
The blue ones are bulls-eyes so now you can see me

Hypoglycemia! That's easy for you to say
If your teeth all fall out, i guess that that's ok
Hypoglycemia! It's multisyllabic
And if it didn't taste so sweet I'd soon kick the habit

See the man in the sweetshop, his teeth are intact
He's got rows and rows of things he keeps in jars out the back
But I never understand the things that he tells me
His eyes as cold and glassy as the humbugs that he sells me

(chorus)

Sherbet bombs and barley twists, love hearts and swizzles
All day suckers, kola kubes, spearmint leaves
Flying saucers, love hearts, life-savers
Satin cushions and aniseed balls

(chorus)

The red ones last longer, they melt on your tongue
The blues ones leave a funny taste after they've gone
The green ones make the earth seem like a tiny ball
And the purple ones taste the best but they don't make you
feel like you're anything at all
Track Name: St Anne's Wells Gardens
See that blind man in the street, week old dog turd at his feet
Tap tap tap across the road, tap tap squelch is how it goed
there's a hedge that separates the rest of the park
For the sighted and the eternal dark
So I'll say I beg your pardon but now
I'm must take me down to St Anne's Wells gardens

And if I waited for one thousand years
Just on the off chance that you'd come by here
And when at last you strolled on through
I pretended not to notice you
There's a thin line between tragedy and mundanity
And none at all when you stood next to me
but when the night falls and the shadows lengthen
I lost sight of you in St Anne's Wells Gardens

Five minutes from home all alone in the forest
woke beneath the slide from beneath the frost
couldn't tell my fried egg from my toast
And you were sleeping while I was lost
There's a thin line between tragedy and mundanity
And there will come an hour when you'll wake next to me
Mid-winter soon it's 4am in the morning (sic)
I'm there waiting still in St Anne's Wells gardens
Track Name: The Function of the Gorgon
It lieth, gazing on the midnight sky,
Upon the cloudy mountain-peak supine;
Below, far lands are seen tremblingly;
Its horror and its beauty are divine.
Upon its lips and eyelids seem to lie
Loveliness like a shadow, from which shine,
Fiery and lurid, struggling underneath,
The agonies of anguish and of death.

Yet it is less the horror than the grace
Which turns the gazer's spirit into stone,
Whereon the lineaments of that dead face
Are graven, till the characters be grown
Into itself, and thought no more can trace;
'Tis the melodious hue of beauty thrown
Athwart the darkness and the glare of pain
Which humanize and harmonize the strain.

And from its head as from one body grow,
As grass out of a watery rock,
Hairs which are vipers, and they curl and flow
And their long tangles in each other lock,
And with their unending involutions show
Their mailèd radiance, as it were to mock
The torture and the death within, and saw
The solid air with many a raggèd jaw.

And, from a stone beside, a poisonous eft
Peeps idly into those Gorgonian eyes;
Whilst in the air a ghastly bat, bereft
Of sense, has flitted with a mad surprise
Out of the cave this hideous light had cleft,
And he comes hastening like a moth that hies
After a taper; and the midnight sky
Flares, a light more dread than obscurity.

'Tis the tempestuous loveliness of terror;
For from the serpents gleams a brazen glare
Kindled by that inexorable error,
Which makes a thrilling vapour of the air
Becomes a and ever-shifting mirror
Of all the beauty and the terror there-
A woman's countenance, with serpent-locks,
Gazing in death on Heaven from those wet rocks.