Leroy Merlin EP
by Dizraeli & DownLow (with Nathan Feddo)
gormbrain
gormbrain
Talented like small gods.
joshdubrau
Si Kirkwood
Boothy
Patric
Gordon McPhee
Sam Goodwin
Tim Hawkins
kidzombie
Aaron Ross
Mr Mass
Crosby Dunkley
Philip Douglas
Michael Peters
Folk Radio UK (Alex)
lukElfin
Dean Daniels
Simon
jons13
Gabriel Jones
Connor Williams
lozk333
Harry
dicebar
Kristina
Owen Kesteven
Anthony Craib
jess27
kbm
Peter Wreford
anthony-sid
Alistair Testo
Will Bartlett
draxil
-
Streaming + DownloadIncludes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
£3 GBP or more
1. |
Leroy's Coming
00:25
|
|||
2. |
John the Baptist
03:42
|
|||
|
| ||||
3. |
||||
|
| ||||
4. |
Have A Rum
04:55
|
|||
|
| ||||
about
Leroy Merlin, fleshy hiphop enigma, mystic guava wizard, son of the European bric-a-brac maestro...
Leroy was the inspiration behind and the executive producer of this EP: he turned up unexpectedly (as he always does) at Uncle John's while we were working on our new mixtape, and within two days of whisky-stinking work his presence had brought about four brand new songs which we knew we had to put out as an EP. Thank you Leroy.
Thank you also to Nathan Feddo, Iraqi emperor and human battlestation, for bringing your monstrous talent to our process. We look forward to making more together.
Leroy was the inspiration behind and the executive producer of this EP: he turned up unexpectedly (as he always does) at Uncle John's while we were working on our new mixtape, and within two days of whisky-stinking work his presence had brought about four brand new songs which we knew we had to put out as an EP. Thank you Leroy.
Thank you also to Nathan Feddo, Iraqi emperor and human battlestation, for bringing your monstrous talent to our process. We look forward to making more together.
credits
released March 10, 2017
Words, guts, production: Dizraeli
Production, cuts, sound design: Louis 'DownLow' Morand
Bass, production, stubbies: Nathan Feddo
Recorded at Uncle John's
Mastered by Chemo at KMJ45 studios
Design by Badj Whipple
Executive producer: Leroy Merlin
Words, guts, production: Dizraeli
Production, cuts, sound design: Louis 'DownLow' Morand
Bass, production, stubbies: Nathan Feddo
Recorded at Uncle John's
Mastered by Chemo at KMJ45 studios
Design by Badj Whipple
Executive producer: Leroy Merlin
tags
license
all rights reserved
shows
-
Jul 27Malmesbury, UK
-
Jul 28Bruton, UK
-
Aug 10Lincoln, UK
-
Aug 10Ovington, UK
discography
-
Mar 2017 -
Jun 2016 -
Jan 2015 -
Nov 2013
contact / help
- Track Name: John the Baptist
-
He has the powers of the winds in him
It’s impossible to stand still
Thoughts bustle like an ant hill
Colony the man’s ill
Buzzing like a superthrust excalibur
Live from the uterus of planet earth
Mama come and tie him down
You were right about the quiet people
Y’have ta watch em they are riot shields
Fire guards, which conceal lion hearts
Mega watts the wire charged
Stretched across a chasm that is
Too much
Somebody make him normal
His brain is overspacious
Clothes draped over a naked mortal
Naked molerat
Look - he struck a weird pose
Shaking like a leaf in autumn
Plucks his earlobes
And mutters something most unsettling
It’s hard enough
Holding our shit together knowing vastness is a part of us
Without the evidence presented to us in a human form
His eyes are two balls of hunger grabbing at a fuscia dawn
Dressed in flamboyant trousers
Tootling a flugelhorn
Dancing at the crux of all that matters
Arms cruciform
Fool up in the eunuch’s court
The man too damn alive
Too unsanitized
Tie him down
And we fall...
Drunk.
I’ve got visions in my head bruv
Or is it pigeons in my head
Whatever it is
There isn’t any let up
Flapping and they’re feverish
Carry me back home
Flagstones
I’m carrying a flagon fulla Jesus
Or is it flagon fulla sheep piss
Don’t know but I ain’t emptying my catheter in secret
Stokes Croft’s my living room
I’m married to the street
she’s a cheap bitch
But I int enamoured of these eejits
prancing through my lounge
You see their privilege
They carry it around
However ragged are their jeanses
It’s very clear
Their eyes are sitting comfortable
So why they criticise my living fuck em all
I’ll fight em if they come to call
That’s real talk
I will steel claw em
That’s provided I can still walk
I spill morphine out my ears I’m brimming over
Breezing
Hot in t-shirt
Though it’s Minnesota freezing
0There’s a reason I am John the Baptist
Or is it John the Batshit
Crazy as a clod of cabbage Me
Lost to madness
Or is it majesty that causes starlight to blur
Tonight’ll be my last night on earth
I can feel it coming
And we fall...
Drunk. - Track Name: Dylan Thomas (ft. Boe Huntress)
-
Raggedy android
Back on the bill
Fresh born from a crack in the hill
and still striving
I wear my body like a tangerine peel
So don' t wave your flag at me chill
I'm near skyborn
Rather Rimbaud than Rambo
I'm on a ramble
Ram's skull up in my satchel
Pull up in a banger real casual
Pull on my mackintosh
last strip of asphalt
Before the black moors
Killer dog boglins
Cashrules nothing round here
this is Bodmin
So I'm done ticking boxes
Sick of jogging
treadmills
Fish abundant
Here stick a rod in
Moon kotch
Activate yr shoebox brain
There's a dragon in yr boombox the tune got strange
Misplace marbles lose plots mate
There’s a dragon in yr boombox the tune got strange
It’s a unghh….
Before I saw her die
I didn’t know what it was to be alive…
A sudden rush and the mist's lifted
The eye narrows for the extra light
a festival of colour bless the sight
Garden
A garbled canister of words
and he stands among the fir trees
a panoply of urges
Kid's a nervous
twitch
Rebirth's a difficult procedure
The earth's his -
that twiddles his receivers
A grizzly creature comes along to sniff him
and passes
he's no different than thunder from a distance
truth of the world
Watching his own breath
Off of the time train
not conscious of progress
He tightens his mind to a
Silvery bullet like that of a hawk owl
He casts it into the gullet of a raggedy doormouse
And rides it into the rushes with its jittery steps
Never more than a millisecond from death
Shivering flesh capsule
Knows it is food for a predator's gut
Suddenly stock still
he presses his belly to mud
While a creature stinking of off milk
Looms like a
Ogre past him on the path
it's a human hiker
Huge clumper
Lump of deformity
Hideous hunk of bones
skin
and enormous teeth
How can an animal of that size
stay upright
Without folding into its own axis
or capsizing
It's a miracle of willpower he thinks
Fuck that
And fades into the marsh as a mist
Never to come back
Before I saw her die
I didn’t know what it was to be alive… - Track Name: Have A Rum
-
And I just hope you’re somewhere good right now
If I was there I’d make it better
But as you have seen fit to cut me out
I suppose I’ll have a rum
Ma nana
Tu vas te faire mal comme ca
Tu vas te faire mal comme ca
I wish you bright yellow memories
A warm centre and a head for humans
An eye for splendour and a sense of movement
Cash enough you’re not swinging from a chewed length of shoestring
Enough to get the train and strength of brain to drink the views in
Presence in your space in such ways
Your day is unstained by making up ways
To frame it as a status update
I wish you knowledge of your own needs
and words to speak em
Wish you to be home free
Wish you to be never lonely
To wake up in a room that’s full of air and sun
For somebody who gets your oddness to be there to hug
You like you want them to
Including room for honest truth
Someone you can read Dylan Thomas to
And they will never cock a snook or say
Very Nice Dear
When you tell em heaven’s right here
Look look
The view’s amazing
If you ignore the smell of piss
The highest kings are not living as well as this
And you squeeze the elegance from charity shop shoes
And pride from the tenner they cost you
Nothing stretches further
Than your eye for bargains
Though in another life you’re made for first class compartments
You a Empress
I wish you feta cheese, bread and port
And to be freed from money worry now and ever more
I wish you to be high as heaven
Forty seventh floor
With fizzy wine and all yr friends in red feathers and leather draws
You’re better than me
I wish you self-love to know that
You built a marvel off your own back
I wish you good rum, a hammock
Warm breeze
But more than al these
I wish you’d call me.
And I just hope you’re somewhere good right now
If I was there I’d make it better
But as you have seen fit to cut me out
I suppose I’ll have a rum
And all I wrote and all I said was love
I’m pretty sure she got that letter
And so she knows I know I fucked this up
I suppose I’ll have a rum
Ma nana
Tu vas te faire mal comme ca
Tu vas te faire mal comme ca
I am a goner
I couldn’t stay
She hammered on and on in my brain for days
She rollercoaster
She cry and cry
I wanna I wanna take to her like a bird to flight
She’s Amazonas
The mother form
Them other fauns are never gonna be love and war
She’s love and war
She loves and rages
She sunny days then smothers me with a sudden shade
Shadow to shadow
Jewel to jewel
Flickering ritual she’s a witch I’m a fool’s fool
Familiar cupboard
Familiar dance
Spinning in the dark
Flashing my hideous parts
I isn’t a bastard
I swear down
This isn’t my usual way of being
I’m in and I’m out
I’m in and I’m out
Wringing my hands, pulling my hair
Crooked and starey yeah
I’m shook and I’m scared
What are the bloody rules to the running game
She’s my sun, my hellfire, my sun again
She won again
I’m running back
Number 70 bus honey I’m coming I’m coming
Ma nana
Tu vas te faire mal comme ca
Tu vas te faire mal comme ca
And through the conquering eye she blazed me down
She kills me till I’ll never get up
I am an island that she rages round
I suppose I’ll have a rum
