Song | Tape Recorder Man |
Artist | Momus |
Album | Folktronic |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Currie | |
Come all ye rounders if you want to hear the tale | |
Of a tape recorder man | |
He travelled far and wide through the dusty countryside | |
The tape recorder man | |
Collecting songs of love, collecting songs of blood | |
Sometimes songs of evil men and sometimes songs of good | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
He said the age of the machine would make us all the same | |
The tape recorder man | |
And we should tape record the songs the old men sing | |
The tape recorder man | |
Because when the old were gone, there'd be no more songs | |
Just mechanical din | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
At a music festival he presented to the world some of the folk greats | |
Then, with a condescending smile, he introduced us all to some electronic fakes | |
Saying 'The old folks don't need gimmicks to make the music new | |
But here's a group of college kids who apparently do' | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
And he left the stage to seek some nerdy boffin geeks who sounded like the Pogues | |
Singing like the BeeGees, dancing like freaks, playing modular Moogs | |
I met him in the dressing room at the end of the show | |
I said you used to be my hero but tonight you've fallen low | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
I said tape recorder man damn your Memorex | |
What about innovation, man, what about art and sex? | |
He couldn't share my point of view, and he freely said so | |
So me and the tape recorder man quickly came to blows | |
I hit out at his shoulder where his tape recorder hung | |
It slipped to the floor with a crash, the strap must've been undone | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
It exploded like a bomb from the first world war | |
And seven spools of folk recordings rolled across the floor | |
A random burst of yodelling rubbed up against the heads | |
That woozy crazy spool was like John Cage or Varese | |
I cried 'Tape recorder man, this I won't forget | |
This is folk music... concrete!' | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne |
zuo ci : Currie | |
Come all ye rounders if you want to hear the tale | |
Of a tape recorder man | |
He travelled far and wide through the dusty countryside | |
The tape recorder man | |
Collecting songs of love, collecting songs of blood | |
Sometimes songs of evil men and sometimes songs of good | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
He said the age of the machine would make us all the same | |
The tape recorder man | |
And we should tape record the songs the old men sing | |
The tape recorder man | |
Because when the old were gone, there' d be no more songs | |
Just mechanical din | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
At a music festival he presented to the world some of the folk greats | |
Then, with a condescending smile, he introduced us all to some electronic fakes | |
Saying ' The old folks don' t need gimmicks to make the music new | |
But here' s a group of college kids who apparently do' | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
And he left the stage to seek some nerdy boffin geeks who sounded like the Pogues | |
Singing like the BeeGees, dancing like freaks, playing modular Moogs | |
I met him in the dressing room at the end of the show | |
I said you used to be my hero but tonight you' ve fallen low | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
I said tape recorder man damn your Memorex | |
What about innovation, man, what about art and sex? | |
He couldn' t share my point of view, and he freely said so | |
So me and the tape recorder man quickly came to blows | |
I hit out at his shoulder where his tape recorder hung | |
It slipped to the floor with a crash, the strap must' ve been undone | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
It exploded like a bomb from the first world war | |
And seven spools of folk recordings rolled across the floor | |
A random burst of yodelling rubbed up against the heads | |
That woozy crazy spool was like John Cage or Varese | |
I cried ' Tape recorder man, this I won' t forget | |
This is folk music... concrete!' | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne |
zuò cí : Currie | |
Come all ye rounders if you want to hear the tale | |
Of a tape recorder man | |
He travelled far and wide through the dusty countryside | |
The tape recorder man | |
Collecting songs of love, collecting songs of blood | |
Sometimes songs of evil men and sometimes songs of good | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
He said the age of the machine would make us all the same | |
The tape recorder man | |
And we should tape record the songs the old men sing | |
The tape recorder man | |
Because when the old were gone, there' d be no more songs | |
Just mechanical din | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
At a music festival he presented to the world some of the folk greats | |
Then, with a condescending smile, he introduced us all to some electronic fakes | |
Saying ' The old folks don' t need gimmicks to make the music new | |
But here' s a group of college kids who apparently do' | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
And he left the stage to seek some nerdy boffin geeks who sounded like the Pogues | |
Singing like the BeeGees, dancing like freaks, playing modular Moogs | |
I met him in the dressing room at the end of the show | |
I said you used to be my hero but tonight you' ve fallen low | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
I said tape recorder man damn your Memorex | |
What about innovation, man, what about art and sex? | |
He couldn' t share my point of view, and he freely said so | |
So me and the tape recorder man quickly came to blows | |
I hit out at his shoulder where his tape recorder hung | |
It slipped to the floor with a crash, the strap must' ve been undone | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne | |
It exploded like a bomb from the first world war | |
And seven spools of folk recordings rolled across the floor | |
A random burst of yodelling rubbed up against the heads | |
That woozy crazy spool was like John Cage or Varese | |
I cried ' Tape recorder man, this I won' t forget | |
This is folk music... concrete!' | |
And sing irie aritty ardie and sing irie arrity anne |