La Roue

by KIV Orchestra

/
1.
2.
06:36
3.
02:31
4.
5.
04:15

credits

released June 15, 2012

2012 Auris Media, AUM035

Marylise Frecheville - vocals (1-3), drums (4,5)
Eric Boros - acoustic guitar, vocals (4)
Boris Martzinovsky - accordion
Ruslan Gross - clarinet, bass clarinet (3-5)
Igor Krutogolov - bass, vocals (1, 5), saw (4)
Guy Schechter - drums (1-3, 5), bass (4)

All arrangements by KIV Orchestra

Recorded on September 9-10, 2011 at Anova Studios by Shimon Tal

Saw & vocals on track 4, accordion & clarinet on track 1 were overdubbed later at different time and different places

Mixed & mastered by Slava Frenklakh at his "home" studio

Executive producer: Victor Levin
Artwork & design: Igor Krutogolov (kruzenshtern@gmail.com)

Special thanks to Slava Frenklakh, Assif Tsahar, Levontin 7 club, Beit Avi Chai, Mark Tso, Helen Buchumensky, Noga Eshed

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Auris Media Records Israel

Israeli label dealing with unusual experimental/avantgarde music.
Was established in 2003 and was dedicated to promote underground and independent music scene in Israel. The label plans to release the works and unique collaborations of independent artists of any kind from Israel and abroad, as well as live recordings of concerts organized by "Auris Media". ... more

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Track Name: Bad Bad Horror
I opened the tap to the ultimate
Pressure and focused on
The running water
Hailing
Down the sink.

I proceeded to washing my hands,
Rubbing them on one another
Again and again
All red down the drain
It was surreal, so much blood, like in a bad bad bad bad horror .

You couldn't predict your termination:
I am the only survivor,
of this fiction.
Love marked the end of you.
It was surreal, so much blood, like in a bad bad bad bad horror .

Death with a kiss is what you deserved
I keep thinking of the magic moment,
Your last breath gone,
Smiles carved in my face
It was surreal, real freedom, stained and sticky.

How I imagined you should go
I was too cheap to get a gun
Too lazy
To think a pristine show
It was surreal, real freedom, so much blood, as in a bad bad bad bad horror

Knife, stabbing you once, stabbing you twice, stabbing you more than stars in the skies, stabbing you X times, infinite times, infinite times, infinite freedom in jail now I enjoy

Knife, stabbing you once, stabbing you twice, stabbing you more than X times, infinite times, infinite times, final finite freedom in jail now I enjoy

Knife, stabbing you once, stabbing you twice, stabbing you more than X times, infinite times, infinite times, infinite freedom in jail now I enjoy

I continued to washing my hands,
Rubbing them on one another
Again and again
Still red down the drain
It was surreal, real freedom, stained and sticky

You couldn't give me enough of you:
I am a perfectionist.
God ruined us
Penned us on the wrong list
It was surreal, real freedom, so much blood, as a bad bad bad bad horror
Track Name: La Roue
Saoul du quotidien comme un chien enchaîné,
Je tourne sempiternellement sans bouger.

Matonne, je t'invite à danser sur la roue.
Ce soir, amène-moi une corde et quelques clous.

Mets-moi à nu je ne crains plus rien.
Ligature-moi les membres et les reins.
Montre-moi le ciel une dernière fois.
Délivre-moi! Oh! Supplice.

Bourreau, casse-moi les os des jambes et des bras.
Achève ton attaque dans mon estomac.
Gisant sur la roue les talons à la nuque,
J'attends la mort doucement caduque.

Abandonné je ne crains plus rien.
La foule savoure l'odeur de ma fin.
Je regarde le ciel une dernière fois.
Délivre-moi! Oh! Supplice

Abandonné je ne suis plus rien.
La foule s'est dissoute au petit matin.
J'ai soupiré une dernière fois:
Miséricorde! Oh! Supplice.
Track Name: Blondinka
Trois prisonnières s'échappèrent du pénitencier.
Une rousse, une brune et une blonde.
Elles trottèrent des kilomètres jusqu'à un vieux pailler
où elles trouvèrent des sacs jute pour se cacher.

Une heure plus tard deux flics vinrent en patrouille.
Les cavaleuses étaient mortes de trouille.
Ils inspectèrent un à un les sacs
En les cognant à coup de matraque.

Le sac de la rousse aboya « wa-wao »,
Ils décidèrent que c'était un Chiuaua.
Le sac de la brune miaula « miaow »,
Ils s'accordèrent sur un gros matou.

Le dernier sac demeura silencieux
Les poulets s'étudièrent d'un air douteux
Ils matraquèrent alors plus fort
Et la blonde proposa «Patates»

КАРТОШКА, КАРТОШКА – Я БОЛЬШОЙ МЕШОК!
О БОЖЕ ВЫ НИЧЕГО НЕ СЛЫШАЛИ! Оh, nо ...

L'histoire ne raconte pas la suite de l'aventure
L'imaginer n'est point trop dur.
Mais si vous ne voulez pas finir en purée
Sachez un animal imiter!
Track Name: This Is Not Tradition
Practical invasion of disputed territories
Taking land and livestock, occupy the mental quarries
Invasion in the name of distant system of belief
By information, products, soldier, covert action, thief

Empty room, empty seat, empty glass, empty hours
Why are we here singing anthems in the name of cowards
Containing nothing, being nothing, nothing to define
Empty house, empty stomach, empty chest, empty mind

This is not tradition
My ancestors weren't there
This is not tradition
What you say won't make me care
There is no tradition
We're all wasting time
There is no tradition
There is nothing to define

Enclosure, a container, as in a box, as in a room
As in an idea signaling the impending doom
Far west, near east, everything we couldn't reach
The walls insides our minds, the prisons that we teach

Empty room, empty seat, empty glass, empty hours
Why are we here singing anthems in the name of cowards
Containing nothing, being nothing, nothing to define
Empty house, empty stomach, empty chest, empty mind

This is not tradition
My ancestors weren't there
This is not tradition
What you say won't make me care
There is no tradition
We're all wasting time
There is no tradition
There is nothing to define

The moral of the story is that it's good
To forget about things or at least you could
When the past is forgotten and the future is too
You won't have a clue about what to do