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Concrete Valleys & Manmade Canyons EP

by Far Flown Falcon

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1.
This is the landscape of the Anthropocene These mongrel days, turned mad and mean Now there are cities rising up from the sand Making fresh claims to this no-man’s land How do we naturalise these man-made towers? How do we claim this kingdom, how do we make it ours? We find new patterns, in the day and the dusk New water sources, for us to trust You might more fiercely, fly more swiftly, this is the way when the city is home We sleep in haste, feast without taste, this is the way when the city is home On exhaust pipe eddies, the swallows tip-toe Making queues on the wires, in their neat little rows To the virgin south, the thermals turn And then they rise through the haze, until they’re hard to discern We find new patterns, in the day and the dusk New water sources, for us to trust You might more fiercely, fly more swiftly, this is the way when the city is home We sleep in haste, feast without taste, this is the way when the city is home And through these manmade canyons I hear The falcon’s ringing call It’s a reassuring sound that says Man has not won at all Not sentenced to prison, no tethers, nor bells The wild finds its way within and sees fit to dwell Nor the world has known ages, billions of years Remade and remade, evolved, engineered We find new patterns, in the day and the dusk New water sources, for us to trust You might more fiercely, fly more swiftly, this is the way when the city is home We sleep in haste, feast without taste, this is the way when the city is home And through these manmade canyons I hear The falcon’s ringing call It’s a reassuring sound that says Man has not won at all
2.
Bold little weasel, agile and sleek, flourishing in these hard times Gleam growing in his eye, no longer meek, as our fickle fortunes decline If you imitate his way, you’d leap and tumble, skip and veer Shadowing his steps to be bold and brave and without fear This bold little weasel The cripple on the corner has staked his spot, he’s doubled on his third-hand crutch Of your wicked ways and your sneaky wiles, he’s seen and heard so much You’re just a pair of pirates, nothing more than a couple of crooks Though of course this creature is more acrobatic in thought and foot This bold little weasel The alley cats have seven lives, or nine Yet yours hangs on a slender line And nothing happens by accident in your fragile world Yet I feel the connection between us As our fates unfurl Good fortune runs at my side, a familiar all day long The sight of you, that fleeting view, the architect of luck And it’s an exercise of fantasy to imagine that scoundrel dancing for me Backflips and somersaults and Egyptian dervish spins At the furthest arc of our activities we stop just to regard That bouncing ball of duplicity as he slips beneath our guard Swashbuckling his way in and out of the halls of men Watch the shadows closely, then come and tell me when You see this bold little weasel This bold little weasel This bold little weasel
3.
Leaving the shoppers and the hawkers, tied in neon-lighted knots Leaving the TV demagogues, for the smell of leaves and honest rot Amongst the manmade canyons, a tree without companion On a plot the developers forgot A tree older than even, all the ancient buildings It’s a tree of heathens, with no coin to lay at the root, to lay at the root Give me your silence, give me leaves to baffle the sound Give the world where you were the tallest thing around A tree older than even, all the ancient buildings It’s a tree of heathens, with no coin to lay at the root, to lay at the root Give me your silence, give me leaves to baffle the sound Give the world where you were the tallest thing around
4.
These shackles hamper our every move, and they rattle with each twitch No doubt that the turnkey would start awake should even scratch an itch So break the system, dupe the world, and leave the currency in flames Usurp the tyrant on his throne though you would end up just the same Though you have been fucking with the fates You’d better move from here and simply pass without trace Though you think you can leap clear over the buffalo’s horns Go ahead and vault this thicket of thorns and pass without trace There’s no move that could salvage the game, you’ve not even a pawn to play The only recourse that you have left is to simply turn away To the swamps above the high dam, where the vapours take the scent The primieval ooze it fills back in and your footprints leave no dent Though you have been fucking with the fates You’d better move from here and simply pass without trace Though you think you can leap clear over the buffaloes horns Go ahead and vault this thicket of thorns and pass without trace The crocodiles still linger here to devour the tracking dogs The spy drones can’t probe the undergrowth, the murk through which you slog Sleep in all your clothes tonight, they’ll slowly tear away And there’s be no trace of this modern world whose presence could betray Though you have been fucking with the fates You’d better move from here and simply pass without trace Though you think you can leap clear over the buffaloes horns Go ahead and vault this thicket of thorns and pass without Pass without, pass without, pass without trace
5.
Anthill 03:58
The anthill keeps growing, more teetering, hopeless homes While teeming in their multitudes, twelve million worker drones All of these paralysed souls, indistinguishable, all smeared in soot The mark of the muted, well it paints us the same, from our head to our foot So extend our limbs, stretch out our hands to touch Just anything, that is not weighted in dust Reaching out for an empty space or the contours of a friendly face In the chaos The anthill collapses, yet constructed again Building on the bones of its fallible men Construction it never does stop, and if a body drops we’ll brick it back in Exoskeletons formed this city’s skin While we, while we, while we, while we While we extend our limbs, stretch out our hands to touch Just anything, that is not weighted in dust Reaching out for an empty space or the contours of a friendly face In the chaos Now I’m carried on the back of billions, though I do not know their names Something fossilised within us that could still be reclaimed They thought us worker drones did not have much to say But they kept us busy anyway Now the water cannons will not hold us back They will simple wash the filth away And if every one of us could carry six times our own weight They’d be really no limits to the utopia we might make Oh we gotta wake up, howl some questions to the hive If we were conscious of our direction We would do more than just survive So extend our limbs, stretch out our hands to touch Just anything, that is not weighted in dust Open our minds, spit the silt from our voice Claim everything, a separate and collective choice Reaching out for an empty space or the contours of a friendly face
6.
Trembling, pre-dawn light And a city as at rest as it ever can be But not me, no, not me It’s the thinnest film of dust It’s love revealed as just Quicksand beneath the crust It’s the thinnest film of dust Battered and bleeding, let the sun soon arise And the minarets give voice, the first prayer of five To the comfort of millions, but my doubts still erode That the chance of salvation, you were all that I knowed A city awakes without us, these memories buried in alleys and cafés And I wonder where it was that your faith began to stray It’s the thinnest film of dust It’s love revealed as just Quicksand beneath the crust It’s the thinnest film of dust We would wake up together with flies on our faces and laugh Close all the windows turn on the AC and start To tease one another under the streets Call each other names both sordid and sweet Make each other promises, swear unto death But those words just don’t crumbled when put to the test It’s the thinnest film of dust It’s love revealed as just Quicksand beneath the crust It’s the thinnest film of dust The street cats will still remember you, long after you are gone But perhaps we’ve all been wronged? Yes, I think we’ve all been wronged Fed well and then abandoned, cooed over then ignored A pretence at some compassion for the gallery to applaud But we’re not charming balls of fluff No we’re broken hearted tomcats, living tough and rough And as the smog settles down I will break free Oh Cairo, will you miss me? And I’ll seek a cleaner start, and cleaner air, and you can keep those memories that we’ve shared.

about

“Manmade Canyons” was a phrase my friend Chris Lack used as we looked out on the view from his small balcony in Cairo and tried to describe what we saw. It struck a chord with me, as the songs I was writing while living in Cairo were gathering around a clear theme – how does a child of the countryside, of the woods and the fields of rural England handle living in this vast, ancient, polluted city? The answer comes from noticing nature wherever it is, and how the wild adapts to an urban existence. I mentioned this phrase to another friend, Emma Scolding, who later misremembered it as “Concrete Valleys”. So thanks to both for providing the title for this EP, and also thanks to Emma for her polaroids of Egypt, which have been incorporating into these liner notes and the cover.

This collection of songs is dedicated to the people of Egypt: for three wonderful years of hospitality, inspiration and friendship.

credits

released April 8, 2019

James Conder - vocals, spanish guitar, guitalele
Phill Ward - five string fretless bass, organ, piano, tambourine, daf, percussion, loops

Mostafa Abo Zaid – oud
Mario Gamal – tabla, daf
Kirollos S. Jacoub – ney
Omar Mounir – spanish guitar

Gilad Weiss - fretless guitar, kopuz

the Reverend Owen Dobson - pump organ
Beth Askham & Emma Beecham - backing vocals

All songs written by James Conder
Produced by Phill Ward
With additional recording in Cairo by Kamelio Wail

Photos by Emma Scolding
All music copyright James Conder 2019

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Far Flown Falcon Cairo, Egypt

Far Flown Falcon is the musical identity of James Conder, a songwriter and fingerstyle guitarist.

For videos and reflections on the craft of songwriting, visit farflownfalcon.wordpress.com

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