A Greville and the Tombstones service announcement

Dear reader,

For blogged Greville and the Tombstones band information and lyrics, please look no further than the band blog.

There you will find lyrics, art, influences and news.

New adorers of Greville and the Tombstones are always welcome.

Your friendly neighbourhood Greville.

Do you know the way to -.

After I wrote the pretend song, The Unicorn Song, and posted it onto my band blog I wasn't prepared for the response. People telling about unicorns, sending me pictures of unicorns, asking me why I like unicorns...
The following exchange of conversation has become part of my life now.

There is a street in Glenrothes, Scotland called Unicorn Way, maybe Greville needs to move to live there:




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You write one song about a vampire being into kinky unicorn sex...!

I now know how Wet Wet Wet felt.

I might need to delete all copies of my song and hope that heroin does the rest
in making me forget I ever mentioned the words “Unicorn” and “Song”.

I am haunted by unicorns. Their phosphorus, twisted horns glow out of the fog
of my middle conscience state. Their ribs hang with the strips of rotten white
skin and they brae out from the darkness welled in pools in my mind and I smell
their cured breath vapours from between their pointed cracked teeth as I drift
to sleep.

In saying that – travelling to Glenrothes to get a photo of me at the sign would make a cool roadtrip movie. Does anyone have a Video recorder these days?

That would be a short movie.

I wouldn’t look for a cinematic release.

Straight to the Poundland DVD section?

Yes.
“Greville Tombs goes the full distance to face his demons: Unicorns. “The Way to
Unicorn Way” is a cool road trip movie full of hip tunes and shows us the youth
of today as close-up, and as real… and as funky… as never before. You’ll laugh at
their jokes, be touched by their feelings and be shocked by the standards they
live by. “The Way to Unicorn Way” is not a movie the government wants you to
see, but then, if you go to Unicorn Way, you don’t play by legislation. “The
Way to Unicorn Way” where one man and his group of young, fresh ladies take on
unicorns their own way. Rated R: Contains scenes of nudity while driving and
prolonged Unicorns.”

How does a unicorn become prolonged?

You’ll see. Oh, you’ll see.

I am disturbed!

I thought the film sounded fun. Kind of thing I’d watch. But the point is, I created the band blog to get away from the madness of being in an imaginary band recording a make-believe album out of pretend songs - and now? Well now I am pitching straight-to-DVD movies about the single off it.

This is not going to plan.

Confessions of an unjustified gothic alt-country song writer

It started one time when I had nothing to tweet about. So I thought I would tweet a joke about “working on the album”. The joke being, for me, a lot of tweets come from bands, so why couldn’t mine? I hash-tagged it #grevilleandthetomsbstones as my quickly created fictional band name and then, again, with #thereisnoalbum just so I was not actually deceiving my followers.

It was taking up the thread I had begun on this very blog about a song I had written for my band which did not exist and just moving it slightly left, into the realm of Twitter.

Soon, I was using this idea of having a band as my default tweet when I had nothing much else to say: “Another track in the can #thereisnotrack #thereisnocan #grevilleandthetombstones”

Before long I was starting to incorporate parts of this parallel life dichotomy into more everyday tweets: “Guy beside me at train station carrying guitar case. Wonder if it is empty like mine? #thereisnomusic #grevilleandthetombstones” It was a bit of fun to keep me occupied.

In, admittedly, a bold move, I announced the name of my pretend band’s upcoming album on Twitter. I actually tweeted an actual picture that I had taken and spent some time putting words on as the cover. Along with the obligatory #thereisnoalbum

It’s not that I haven’t had the odd bash at some rhyming couplets late at night – and who here hasn’t – but I know nothing about writing songs. Before I knew it, I was writing songs for a band I did not have, for an album that was not getting made and posting them on my blog, just so I could continue making the same joke over and over about not having a band.

And you are more likely to get a friendlier response from pretty girls in bars when you say you are a Gothic alt-Country singer and writer for a band – even, when you alarmingly tell them that band is entirely in your head – than if you tell them you write poetry mainly about girl’s hair. Then offer to come up with some of that poetry right on the spot as you gently hold a lock of their hair between your thumb and forefinger. Yes, young women in the 21st century think poets are creepy, that’s just the basic science of evolutionary anthropology.

However, swiftly things were starting to run away from me.

Some friends started liking the lyrics.

I met the wonderful singer/songwriter She Makes War, who, admiring the integrity of being totally honest about an imaginary band, suggested I come up with a band logo and merchandising opportunities.

She Makes War even kindly tweeted about one of my songs!

Not long after, one of my good friends asked if they could join the band. I could have said: “of course!” and given them a “welcome to the fictional band” tweet. Instead, I invented an initiation where a Native American Chief has to re-name them for the band using visions through the spirit fire under a new moon, simply because I made up a fact of the Crash Test Dummies doing similar before releasing God Shuffled His Feet.

Another follower tweeted how important the 3rd album was to her during her angst years. I could have replied: “Ha! Good one! I see you are in on the joke here!” I could have not replied at all. Instead, I went with: “Wow! That is a rare album. I recorded it on C60 home tapes and sold it at jumble sales. #noididnt”

At one stage I tweeted and blogged the Tombstones were recording solo material as The Dark Throw. The ramblings of an utter delusionary.

I was starting to not be able to help myself.



Only a depiction of what could have been the vessel for the 3rd album

There was an instant at my office desk where I thought: You know? I could leave this job to concentrate on the made-up band full time. Spending sharp sunny winter mornings writing songs in sparse but comfortably furnished independent coffee shops as a mum-friendly circa 1993 grunge-light member of a band where fleecy, checked, lumberjack shirts are un-tucked and almost always unbuttoned to reveal round necked, washed-out t-shirts underneath. Ok, we might not be hugely popular, but we are establishing a solid cultish following, we’d get by on the recorded music and logo t-shirt sales, and most importantly I’d be free, dagnammit.

Yes, that would be quitting my tangible job for a not particularly successful band I have completely invented in my head!?!

It was clear this nonsense was getting out of control. It was not healthy.

So this is why I have decided – here and now – to put this madness to one side. Put this madness to one side, like a fox!

I have done a new blog site for Greville and the Tombstones! There is a link to it at the top of my blog. From now on, all Greville and the Tombstone posts, music, art and information will be blogged only there. Like sort of my blog shed.

What could be saner?

This Lore blog will return to what it does best – blogging of things I have seen on TV and the occasional discussion about my real life experiences and opinions.

And this is why I titled this bloggette: Confessions of an unjustified gothic alt-country song writer – because I needed to confess. My dealings with my imaginary band were tearing this blog apart. My blog was never intended to annoy readers with a pretend band. I needed to separate them. I had to say, Revelairs, I am truly sorry.

Well, this and because it is also, as I can exclusively reveal now! The title of Greville and the Tombstones 5th Album #thereisnotevenafourthalbum

It is likely a type of illness I have.

This is not a Press Release

Recently there have been rumours. Rumours on the threads. Rumours which have troubled fans of Greville and the Tombstones. Rumours of a magnetic tape circulating. Which is why, if I wanted to blog this press release today, then this would be it.

Is the band splitting up?

I can say with absolute certainty the band is not splitting. We are not going to be another La's.

What about the tape?

Alright, I was hoping this would never come into the public domain, but circumstance has laid it's cold hand on us.

This is a transcript from a recording discovered at the studios where Greville and the Tombstones are recording our seminal first album. It was meant to be destroyed, but was found in a bin, remastered using sell-o-tape and subsequently leaked out by probably Julian Assange, knowing him, currently staying with dance guru, Sash on his holidays. The date of the recording has been undetermined.

.................................................

[The tape warps the sound at the start and then we hear a voice cracking through for the first time]:

GT: OK guys, take five. We have just recorded our first number one record.
The T: [congratulating themselves with whoops]

Telephone: Ring-ring, ring-ring, ring-ring, ring-ring

GT: I’ll take it!
[Click of receiver]
Hello? Greville talkin’. No, I am not a Tombstone. They are my band. No, I am not the manager of the Tombstones. I am Greville of Greville AND the Tombstones? Ah – uh-huh. I see. I see. Oh I will be sure to pass on the message. Thank you kindly.
[Pause]
So I hear you guys have booked another recording studio to record some sweet material without me?
The T: [murmurs]
GT: After all we’ve been through? The naming ceremony last week where you all received your Tombstone names from the Chief who called you after the visions he saw in the spirit flame of fire he lit in front of your faces? The Crash Test Dummies did the same thing too, you know, and they ended up recording just the best goddamn album in history.
The T: [Half-denials and then one voice, louder] It’s not what it seems…
GT: Oh, Squiggly Leaf, tell me: what is going on?
SL: Well, we like being in the band. We’d never leave it. It’s cool. But we want to try out some music of our own, without the confines of being a Tombstone and all that coolness it represents. Forming a separate band gives us that freedom.
GT: And you all feel the same as Squiggly Leaf? You too, A Bit Like A Sleepy Bear?
ABLASB: Sure, Grev. We all do. Me, Squiggly Leaf, Fish Or Goat and Ironically Fire.
GT: And what is this new band of yours calling itself?
IF: The Dark Throw.
GT: What on earth does that even mean, Ironically Fire?
IF: Well we figured you were the bright star, I mean your name is the first thing in the band name. So we were, like, the shadow thrown out behind you. The Dark Throw was what we called ourselves to connote the shadow.
GT: That’s actually pretty good. And what genre are you recording in?
FOG: Instrumental Country Gothic. A little heavier than what we are doing with you for this album. More slide guitar. We are going to have our name in silver on the album cover. That kind of music.
GT: That’s quite interesting. It could go places.
SL: And we figure we could be the warm up act for us at Greville and the Tombstones gigs.
GT: Good point. OK, I’ll allow this side project. If you mainly stick with my band, I’ll even give The Dark Throw some Twitter ups. But you are all forgetting one pertinent fact.
ABLASB: What’s that, Greville?
GT: You don’t play any music. There is no music making going on here. Greville and the Tombstones, have no tunes at all. We don’t do gigs. In fact none of you actually exist and this recording studio we are in? It is just an empty cardboard box I am shouting into while wearing headphones plugged into nothing, sitting alone in my flat.
IF: Fair point. But next time you’re on Twitter could you tweet the details of The Dark Throw’s booking down at the local Booze N’ Newz this Saturday?

.......................................................

At this point the tape stops.

So, you can clearly see after this, there is no need to worry about things. I'm fine.

My first review!

Actual review

"Ace new song from imaginary band"


 

Gloom Pop, ba duba dop

Some people earlier this month were asking: "Greville, how many tracks are going to be on the upcoming Greville and the Tombstones album: It took the body parts of 7 men to make him but only 1 woman to break his heart, made from 3 men's hearts?"

And I said to them: "Look. There is no upcoming album. Because there is no band. Why do people keep asking about this? I tweet about there being no band all the time! I can't play an instrument and I have never sang in public. Not even along to anything. However, I will ask you this: how many tracks are on the greatest album ever made - God Shuffled His Feet, by The Crash Test Dummies?"

And they replied: "12, including the hidden track."

And I said: "There you go."

To be honest, I was thinking about not answering their questions anymore after this. Maybe if I just stopped mentioning I have no band at all, this nonsense would stop? I could then go on my own ways, far from this madness.

Later this month I met Laura - AKA She Makes War - who was in town performing at a couple of venues.

She Makes War describes her music as Dramatic Gloom Pop. Confusingly, Laura is not all that gloomy. Laura is rather effervescent and lovely.

Laura is also very talented and multi-skilled, busily writing and performing She Makes War songs and directing her own music videos. Laura is confidently pointing towards much of the interesting and vibrant relationship between musician and music fan using social networking.

Laura maintains a comprehensive online presence keeping all of her artistic credit as well as control of promotion and a business freedom.

She is also totally cool. We follow each other now on Twitter, you know.

I don't mind saying I was initially in awe of her. I mean, a real life cool musician person talking to me. Wow.

Naturally, in the course of conversation, I mentioned that I did not have a band. It was pretty much at the start of the course. Basically to impress her.

I explained that I had no band called Greville and the Tombstones, wasn't in the progress of recording an album nor was I performing any time soon. I mean, OK, I've written songs... with basically no musical accompaniment...

Not sure it did impress, but Laura was intrigued. She passed me her band business card.

Laura asked: "Do you have band merchandise?"

"No."

"You should think about it. You should come up with band art work and use it to sell things to your fans."

And immediately I did think about it. Because She Makes War also makes excellent suggestions.

Obviously there would be the Greville and the Tombstones cuff-links. For younger fans - Greville and the Tombstones knitted-to-scale figures. And ladies could purchase vest tops of a selection from a small colour palette. That would be something! Selling band merch!

Later on I saw Laura play as She Makes War. Fair to say, She Makes War made a terrific impression on the varied demographic in a small, traditionally apportioned old town bar. Laura has a mesmeric stage presence - very watchable, and listenable. She Makes War is exciting. I had a thoroughly good time and would like to see her perform again.

It is also fair to submit Laura has reignited my passion for not being in a band. I am almost certainly not working on a band logo in my head right now!

Indeed, here we sit, only a couple of weeks later, and I could announce the latest track for the album. If there was one being worked on. Which there isn't.

It is to a largely upbeat tune - something akin to Fall Out Boy's more commercial stuff.

Not sure where the inspiration for the lyrics came from, to be honest. It is funny how my songs seem to come from almost subliminal means. A half noticed drop of a leaf into a puddle, perhaps? Anyway, it's called: (I have a crush on) A Gloom Pop Girl.

(I have a crush on) A Gloom Pop Girl

All shade and hair in a twirl,

She plays songs of gentle doom.

The darkest star in the planetary constellation,

An electro-lightening complication,

I feel iron tide in blood as amps charge the room,

I have a crush on a gloom pop girl.

Because I like my castles in ruins,

I like my clouds coloured grey.

I like my birds to be ravens

And I like the desolate turn of the day.

The melodies uncoil and unfurl,

Misery, all is lost to her voice,

Melancholic comfort of warmth in midwinter coat

Heartbreak found of old love’s note

The subtle indifference of Hobson’s choice

I have a crush on a gloom pop girl.

Because I like my castles in ruins,

I like my clouds coloured grey.

I like my birds to be ravens

And I like the desolate turn of the day.

My emotions transfix in bleak whirl

Pasted in a Victorian scrap book

Curled corners of pictures, the failure of glue

Blurred image inks distill into blue

Unevenly spread where these hands shook

I have a crush on a gloom pop girl.

Because I like my castles in ruins,

I like my clouds coloured grey.

I like my birds to be ravens

And I like the desolate turn of the day.

[Power chord moment]

Hey, hey, hey!

Oh, Hey!

Hey!

Gas lit film flickers away!

It sparkles down on your skin!

Danger but not feeling peril,

A vile of poison bottled in crimson,

A rusting shield under skies of gloomy weather,

I see we can get through this together

Now I know others share imperfect vision

I have a crush on a gloom pop girl.

Because I like my castles in ruins!

I like my graveyards overgrown,

I like my birds to be ravens

And I like my tombstones uneven and prone. 

I mean, what's all that about, eh? A psychologists dream!

Track 5

There is no album. Here is the cover.

You know what it's like. Lunchtime at the office and it is a slow online news day so you write an Americana song you will never perform for the album you are not making with a band only in your mind.

I had intended this to be purely a time wasting device and a song that no one would ever hear. Not just because it will never be recorded but because I wanted it to be an album "Filler".



That track which automatically is FForwarded or skipped. It's sole reason and purpose, to fill out the song numbers on the back of the CD case. Occassionally, these tracks serve the added function of padding out the running time of an album. I call those tracks - "Underhand"

Album filler tracks are not ever designed to be listened to out of choice so usually contain throwaway lyrics (if at all - band instrumentals are the worst), more experimental sounds and a genaral feeling that we have entered into a mutual contract wherby the band won't play it at a gig so we don't need to listen to it enough times to work out which bits to move in unison to.

Clearly little time is spent bothering with them in the studio. This is in order, the fan hopes, to make the other tracks better and not to open more opportunity for group drug abuse.

Almost all albums have these filler tracks. Except for Best of's... and Now! That's what's, naturally.

Even some of the most popular albums ever produced have them. Oasis' (What's The Story) Morning Glory? Hey Now. Radiohead's OK Computer? FITTER HAPPIER.

In fact, here is FITTER HAPPIER. Feel free to scroll passed it to the rest of the blog. It is exactly what Radiohead would want you to do.



So, under this light, I felt a 15 minute run at making up a song over a lunchtime apple and mango smoothie would be ideal conditions to create my "filler" track.

My plans soon crumbled, however, when my good friend @jaffne said she liked it so much I had to publish the lyrics onto my Blog. I am not one to argue and so this is where we find ourselves.

Of course, I am not certain if this then makes this here's entire bloggette essentially a filler and, if so, I am then even less certain how I should be feeling about it. After all, I hadn't planned on anyone wanting to hear the song all the way to the end, let alone once - but I do hope people enjoy reading my blogs to their conclusion. It is mixed emotions, therefore, in posting this.

If I was a HAL9000, I'd be shunting folks out evacuation hatches like there was no tomorrow right now.

Anyway, here is my latest song for the album that does not exist.

-TRACK 5-

Every girl is a fairytale

But you’re hard to read

You wear hurt as gems of adornment

Eyes searching for shore on a sea of torment

Your flattery deceives

Oh – oh – oh

You have a cloak to hide a dagger

You hide a frown behind the laughter

You short out the Sun with your dark matter

Oh – oh – oh

Eat the apple, Snow White

You will be alright

I want to be the one who kisses you awake

The guilt and the pleasure

Without one the other cannot measure

Keep both as close as stolen treasure

Oh – oh – oh

Eat the apple, Snow White

You will be alright

I want to be the one who kisses you awake

The mirror on the wall

I don’t think it knows you at all

When it reflects on your beauty and grace

It’s blinded from your horror by your fair face

Your lips betray your words

Oh – oh – oh

From the tower let your hair down

From the cage lay the bone down

From the castle shoot the king down

Oh – oh – oh

Eat the apple, Snow White

You will be alright

I want to be the one who kisses you awake

The girl who burns the vowels out of my lore

You are the wolf who howls at my door

My darling fairytale wh**e

Oh – oh – oh

Eat the apple, Snow White

You will be alright

I want to be the one who kisses you awake

An exclusive for the fans of Greville and the Tombstones

For some reason there has been increasing rumours that I have a band. I don't. I have no idea where this talk has come from.

Anyway, further to the big announcement during the hour of noon today on my Twitter feed, revealing the name of my band's next album, I thought I would make this day a real treat for our fans, the Revelairs.

So, just for you guys, are the lyrics to a new song.
I am not sure that this is the summer feel good hit I had been aiming for, but it will be our summer single.

I call it - No One Hates Me More Than Me

Sometimes it’s comforting to know,

That no one hates me more than me.

You may see the things I do,

You may know the man I am

But you can’t despise me in all the ways I can

Yes, sometimes it’s comforting to know,

That no one hates me more than me.

When you’re in the doorway,

The flicker of flint lights up a smile,

I live with me forever, but you only stay for a while

Yes, sometimes it’s comforting to know,

That no one hates me more than me.

Disgust, betrayal – I let you down,

I see it’s all played out in your eye,

But mine sheds a bucketful for every tear you cry

Yes, sometimes it’s comforting to know,

That no one hates me more than me.

If I could start again, no regrets to carry,

If I could start again, all new,

We could both be happy, but I would sure miss you.

Sometimes it’s comforting to know,

That no one hates me more than me.

And now for a special added bonus! Here is the very first look at the LP front cover art for the Album: It took the body parts of 7 men to make him, but only 1 woman to break his heart, made from 3 men’s hearts.

I know, right? Considering there is no band, or record - Wow.

A song I went and done for a band I don't have

Binge drinking is bad. Let’s get that out the way for starters.

Look at this binge drinker. Do you want to look like this flippant goon?

Flippant goon. Accessories models own

The Man claims that, as a nation, we have the worst relationship with alcohol in the known and perhaps unknown world. The Man is calling for minimum pricing and applying stricter licensing laws as the answer. But this form of social drinker kettling technique is not the answer. Making drunkenness acceptable during the morning commute, at the office and down supermarket aisles. Now this would solve binge drinking.

I only bring this boozy subject up, because I was partaking in a bit of binge drinking the other evening. For those who have done binge drinking then the scenario will be as known as well worn slippers:

Starting out with intentions of having “just the one” with a friend, the conversation quickly moves to the day’s activity at work, a reciprocated drink bought later and the discussion continues onto good old times and shared memories, a “one for the road” after and I am revealing to anyone who’ll listen what I think is both a good idea and, simultaneously, a fundamental problem – stopping only for a little air drumming to the song on the jukebox – before deciding to go home, finding the envelope of a utility bill and settling down to write a country and western song on the back of it.

Ah! A story as old as the fermentation process itself.

This is what I penned.

Thank you, thank you. We are Greville and the Tombstones. Now, here is a song I wrote [oh yes – I should say at this point, I did an introductory dedication bit, as is customary to any country and western song, as well] for a girl. Yeah, a girl. I don’t think she’ll ever know it’s for her. But it is. Not that she’ll care. Will You, Sara-Lou!
Anyway this is one I call – Your Thieving Hands.

You took me heart,

I did not give it,

You could’ve had part,

But that wasn’t your game.

You’ve got it caged,

Somewhere very secret,

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

You say it was,

Anyone’s for the takin’,

But if it’s truly yours,

Why can I feel it breakin’?

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

A crooked act,

Of your own doin’,

You smoked it out,

The night we drank.

I had sweeter plans

For my heart a-brewin’

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

And now I’m on,

Experimental medication,

My blood is circulated

By machine intervention

The electrics need cooled, by twelve fans

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

Sara-Lou you sonofabitch!

Of course I can’t play guitar, so it would be mostly bongo led.

Ultimately, I believe the lesson here is: stopping binge drinking would prevent me getting into this good ol’ boy kind of nonsense.