Joseph Arthur and The Lonely Astronauts
All Who Share A Hot-Blooded Mouth
Dec 11, 2008
Words by Sean Moeller
Illustration by Johnnie Cluney
Sound engineering by Patrick Stolley
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Welcome to Daytrotter
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This Is Still Your World
unreleased
Now it's called "This Is Still My World" But that's cuz it's changed since then But that's the right title for what it was then (so, don't change it) I love fluidity I resist fixing anything Into one form or one pose or one stance Songs are people They talk like people They eat like people They dance like people They dress like people They live and they die like people When we recorded this song in yer studio It was brand new Like a super model or a super hero Like the greatest villain that ever lived Like the captain of the football teem Or an effigy of the other teams mascot Hanging and burning Jen Turner tricked me into singing it Before it was ready And I knew better but went along with it anyway As I am helpless to resist a powerful woman such as she And she wanted to play one of yer amazing old keyboards And who could stop a thing like that?
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Temporary People
original version appears on Temporary People
yes we are all that thank god and so sad in old paintings from the fourteen hundreds like the birth of Venus her expression is soft and sad and when one asks why it is because just then man began to enjoy himself but with that enjoyment came the realization that he and she will lose youth and life so there is the reason for that look in so many of those great old masterpieces
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Faith
original version appears on Temporary People
this is the antidote to that expression the surrender of everything and the embrace of the eternal the ultimate punk rock nihilism born into god head and freed by enlightenment but only after you trust that someone will catch you when you fall backwards even tho no one is behind you
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Dead Savior
original version appears on Temporary People
I just like the line Like a dead savior one that never rises This is the opposite view from the song above A celebration of faithlessness Which is a worthy celebration too For part of you Is most certainly abandoned here Part of you must burn Without anyone lending a hand Part of you is meant to die If not for someone else's sins Then at least for yer own
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Turn You On
original version appears on Temporary People
I wrote it in fifteen minutes stoned in the Diamond Room Back when I used to smoke the evil weed And play bingo with the dead One night walking thru the city with my sister After a gig at a bookshop She told me it made her cry Now every time I sing it I sing it to her
Our real flair is our impermanence, some could say. Some like Joseph Arthur, the Brooklyn musician who walks into the room as if it were about to be taken hostage by a purple hazed gunsmith (him) with a penchant for studious remarks that seem to come off-the-cuff and as wry medallions (his), would definitely say such a thing. It's one thing to think that everyone's been figured out and it takes a smarter person to recognize that not only isn't everyone figured out, but they won't be and as an added bonus, they can't be.
And as a second added bonus, if that weren't enough, you yourself can enjoy the same ambiguity until the coffin finds you with stiffened shoulder blades and eyes that are no longer drawn and made out of water, circles and dots. Arthur has a tendency of trying to figure out which guy his is around every conceivable bend in his arc, doing so in song after song. He comes up with some very strong conclusions about the waffling spirit of human nature, where there's reinvention, huge pink erasers that can just leave piles of droppings and mysterious ink that's not seen nor evident in just any old circumstance of light. The shadings are important to consider, the crosshatchings too, for they're the intersections of the blendings - where the numerous signatures form one full name, which could run down an arm, over the legs and across the face dozens of time, just covering the inches. He considers it a romantic vision of the individual being someone who's capable of at least chipping down to the original surface of the he or she, the original coating of paint and going from there to discover the added layers that are bound to accumulate given enough time.
But that vision is an unlikely happening for the original coat of paint has been dyed or sanded off and replaced more times than anyone could realize. The person is as they are today and everything else is presumptive and baiting. Arthur writes often about the multiple personalities that are loitering throughout his inner hallways, keeping to themselves until they feel as if they'd spice things up outdoors. They are the eyes in paintings that follow you around and he sings of the ever expanding coterie, a rogue's gallery of lanky identical twin brothers and sisters who share a common bond that involves an obsessive need to write and record music that is loaded with the kind of sexy swivel and end-of-the-night observations that lead to people falling into the arms and chests of others, just to rest their eyes.
Arthur showcases a flamboyancy of roaring rock and roll that encapsulates the rank and dirty urinals, the cigarette smoke that's been barred from the bars but still lingers in the wall pores and the lifestyle that's always over-the-top and full of rawness of emotion. It's all of these many personalities of his - which allow him to be the savant, the philosopher, the playboy, the misfit, the flirt, the stoner and the individual - that come out in different voices and different mindsets as Arthur continues to shake hands and meet with all of the conflicting individuals that take nourishment from the same mouth, take blood from the same heart and stare out of the same aviator sunglassed eyes. He sings, "You're dreaming I'm running through your veins," and that's the exact same dream that takes up most of his slumber, only there are a lot more feet.
Joseph Arthur Official Site
