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Leave Tomorrow EP

November 10, 2012

Photo © AMC

Autumn in the land of milk and rain and we’re sitting with the door open to the garden and there’s the ever-popular dappled sunlight on the fence and the air is very Blue Remembered Hills. And I’ve been talking recently to my friend about another Soft Cotton County record that I hope to record on the back of this one and suddenly it seems possible — Networks have been rejoined and inclination, motivation and desperation are aligned just enough – We’re thinking celestial bodies that are needed to make up a tidal surge or a spring tide. Laugh Out Loud.

So let’s mention the new record. An EP of two halves – ambient pop and the newly revealed “ambient-punk”. (Or is it grunge? – grumbient perhaps) It’s a contrived thing that hasn’t come from whim or even inspiration – all that stuff happened long ago – this is the 20% that takes the  80% that Lee refers to – the bit that takes the longest and in the end the bit that fixes it in time. It’s the preservation of that ancient inspiration: forgetting the gargantuan effort to bring it to the surface, it’s the Mary Rose sprayed with wax and water for thousands of days…

Pretending to be something is often more fun than actually being something. Yes, we are all pseudo intellectuals here, and proud – sometimes it is all we have:

Remember, even the generation they call Generation X had to bust a gut to say something new. What hope is there for the rest – what hope for Generation Zero? *

Leave Tomorrow, an EP by Soft Cotton County was released on 5000 Records 19.11.10

 

This record is words and music from Andy Coombs featuring performances and serious engineering by Lorraine Craig, Sascha Panknin, Ant Glynne, Lee Dallon and Andy Coombs

 

© AMC & CEW

Part 2.

So we drive west to the sea once again. And I’m thinking of J G Ballard still motoring around the ring roads orbiting Heathrow, following the call signs to traffic accidents while dreaming of his retirement on the vermillion sands.

So, the Triassic coast again… **

We are limping a mile along the pebble beach until the light has gone into the cliffs and sea. There are no bad memories here – no broken holiday resort with dilapidated hotels crumbling facades and lost sentiments, grubby chip shops or dusty gimcrack kiosks. Perhaps the modernist purge has cleared away the depressing trappings of faux-French manners and menus — vegetables served laboriously from silver-service dishes one pea at a time while the conversation pauses awkwardly mid-sentence.

Photo © CEW

This is Soft Cotton County… pretentious, pious, pithy and other things beginning with p… to the last.

Edward Edwardson (Devon. October 2010) ©

* But when that day comes Generation Zero (perhaps fondly remembered as Generation X factor) will happily enter the matter transporter. “So long gramps,” they’ll shout as we wave them off from the overpopulated ruins. They will not be afeared of their atoms scattered or reassembled in fusion with wasp or lettuce – half man half lettuce (scared of slugs and snails but fearless of water, mud and mayonnaise.) while we remain forever unteleported (me and Philip K Dick the original Unteleported Man). As thoroughly as a person wary of elevators and underground trains we will always have to take the metaphorical stairs to the future.

** According to the Tourist Information, the Triassic coast, though lumped in with the Jurassic, is in fact much older

Photo © CEW

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From → music, Thoughts

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