![flashback* [1999]. New Zealand [kiwi] independent folk/singer/songwriter Daniel Gannaway.](/dg-assets/DG002-cover-200px.jpg) |
Tracklist:
01 - His name's Tom
02 - Sarah
03 - Good job?
04 - Boy racer car sale
05 - Your winning way
06 - Rest
07 - Flashback
08 - Look Mama! [a postcard from NY]
09 - Her piano
10 - A french girl
11 - Not a candidate
12 - Fuck the gardeners
>> Hear it @ CD Baby or iTunes or...
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Originally released to friends. Now available at CD Baby.
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A friend gave me FINE BY ME while I was travelling and it seemed to click with exactly where I was at, wherever that was, becoming a kind of 'processing' album for me. It was at least six months later that I actually met Daniel when he played a support to Carla Werner at the Hopetown Hotel in Sydney. It was a heartfelt and intimate live experience hearing live versions of those songs I'd gotten to know so well interspersed with songs from a new album he'd brought with him, 'flashback'. Needless to say, flashback went into immediate rotation on our car stereo.
flashback was, like FINE BY ME, a sleeper album. It definitely took a few listens before we caught ourselves knowing lines and humming along. While it was still an album predominately based around Daniel's voice and acoustic guitar, flashback definitely had an edgier and more varied feel from it's predecessor. There was a sense of adventure, a feeling that you were learning new things along with him. Daniel's songwriting had become cheekier, more socially observant and less apologetic in some way.
Starting with the clip clop tribute to a friendship song 'His name's Tom', the distortion tinged pleading of 'Sarah', the quiet/heavy/quiet of theft song 'Good job?' and the acoustic semi-pop bounce of 'Boy racer car sale', flashback immediately sets a few different tones. It then drops into the melancholy strum of gambling addicted 'Your winning way' and the ever so gentle mourning tone of 'Rest'. The much needed lift back up comes in the form of trippy title track 'flashback' and the high energy run of 'Look Mama!' [apparently using the text from a postcard to his mother] which leads into the lyrical loping [around what I'm sure is Bondi Beach] of 'Her piano', this song also gives a hint that Daniel at this point had set upon defining his own course for that immediate future music wise. Quirky harmonica laced 'A french girl' brings things back up to a quicker stroll with the happy remembrance of an exotic past love and the bluesy, story telling style of 'Not a candidate' carries you into the album ending and curiously titled 'Fuck the gardeners' [an obvious play on gardeners being the advocates of the 'tall poppy syndrome' - a NZ/Australian phenomenon - in their cutting down of anyone standing taller than the accepted status quo]. After this up and down ride it's a driving and motivating end to the album, leaving you with the feeling to go out, stand tall and be proud.
Inspiring to see that Daniel is following that himself.
Lucy Cooper
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Quotes:
"... Perhaps politics might actually catch on if Gannaway were doing the singing [OP-ED], instead of John Ashcroft's barbershop quartet. It's a thought. But until the Republican or Democratic National Convention is converted into a Broadway musical, we'll have to make do with Daniel. And that's going to be just fine for fans of indie folk pop with a message." - Indie-Music
"...The great aspect of the album [SUMMER STORM] is that each song's arrangement maintains a minimalistic nature, which shows a discipline and a depth of understanding on Gannaway's part. Underneath the ukulele, the cruising drums and harmonic supporting bass grooves provide an all around easy and easily recommendable listen..." - NZ Musician Magazine
"...Down to earth and laid back, it has none of the musical tension of trying too hard or the injection of false emotions. Suburban folky and bohemian chic, it [darling one year] ties up agreeably layered and distorted vocals into an angst-ridden, quirky pop as catchy as The Strokes but easily as mysteriously engaging as James Keenan Maynard..." - Indie-Music
"...[Bound and Suburban] like walking alone on the beach at night and seeing Jim Morrison and Jeff Buckley strumming and singing at the water’s edge..." - Indie-Music
"...Herein lies the essence of Bootlegged at the Temple: simply an audience, a musician, and a quiet venue... - no hype... In context with Daniel's previous two albums - FINE BY ME and flashback* - and subsequent release 'Bound and Suburban', 'Bootlegged' is a departure, which provides the listener a greater perspective on all of his work. Bootlegged is a great live album, which, over time, becomes as much a voyage of discovery and inspiration for the listener as for the musician himself." - Justin Walsh |
Track 01: His name's Tom [song from that desert campfire]
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
I met a man who did not stand
But soon turned out to be my friend
Amidst a world of mock and a world of false soul
He stood by me even though he was told
Don't hang out with him
He does not fit in
No not into our
Scheme of things
‘Cause he does this
And you know that
He does that he does not fit into
All the parameters we've set
Now I think we're about as far apart
As these oceans are wide
And it's not too often we float side by side
You know life changes rearranges
We all go through such different phases
He don't see much of them anymore
Doesn't concern himself with their scene at all
I hang out with him
He does not fit in
No not into they're
Scheme of things
‘Cause he does this
And you know he does that
Does not fit into
All the parameters they've set
Well it never bothers him
Because he can still turn
He makes up his own mind
Does whatever he likes
‘Cause he is a man
He is a man
He is a man
That does not walk within a flock of sheep all talking in unison
He is a man decides for himself he does not listen to everybody else
Oh he is making his own lines on these different waves
He is not stuck up on these fashionable things
Oh he is turning in his own way riding fat sticks on his knees
He is a man
Does not stand
He don't fit in
I'm proud to call him my friend
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Track 02: Sarah
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
Oh come on Sarah
Pull us together
We're not defunct
Just under weather
And I'm not the man for this job
No I'm not the man for this job
Oh come on Sarah
Tell me it's not true
You've the strength of will
To carry us through
And I'm not the man for this job
No I'm not the man for this job
I'm a man who used to land jet aeroplanes
Solely responsible for three hundred lives
But somewhere out there my abilities crashed to the ground
My nerves put me off you know they've never been found
Oh come on Sarah
Don't run off on me now
You’re the one way I handle
What's going on in my world
And I'm not the man for this job
No I'm not the man for this job
I'm a man who used to land jet aeroplanes
Solely responsible for three hundred lives
But somewhere out there my abilities crashed to the ground
My nerves put me off you know they've never been found
Sarah
Sarah
Sarah
Sarah
I'm that man used to land jet aeroplanes
And when we made love I swear we'd burn in flames
Oh but somewhere out there my abilities crashed to the ground
My nerves put me off they've never been found
No no no no
Sarah Sarah
Sarah Sarah
Am I still your man?
Am I still your man Sarah?
Am I still your man?
Am I still your man sarah?
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Track 03: A good job?
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
You have done us wrong
And you have stolen our stuff
And gauging from the talk around here
If you get found out you'll get messed up
Now I can't do physical
but I'd like to get inside your head
Figure out if it was for survival
Or if you're just a low-life and a dreg
Is that all that you are?
Are you spit in a glass?
Are you just a thief?
Steals others keep
Well Bethells is a fine place
Wild and black on the sea
Where people should chill out
Without anxiety
But you smashed the car
Ruined a day in the sun
You took my personal thoughts
And all of our possessions
Are you just a fucking thief?
Are you just a thief?
Are you just a thief?
Are you just a thief?
Oh you're a thief
Oh you're a thief
Oh you're a thief
Oh you're a thief
Well bethells is a fine place
Wild and black on the sea
Where people should chill out
Without anxiety
But is this all you are?
Just spit in a glass
And though I feel invaded
I'm gonna leave karma to take a glance
[was it a good job?
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Track 04: Boy racer car sale
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
You got me trapped in a car
And I know just who the hell you are
You're trying to turn me on to something better
Offering me better driving pleasure
[see I don't like these little japanese cars with a suped-up engines
I just feel claustrophobic in them oh no!]
Well hey get out of my face
I've not yet bought into your race
I do not need to go the fastest
I do not need to look the best
I'm not a boy racer
I'm not a boy racer
[race your car rev your engine and race your car]
Well you can put me in the pedestrian zone
I drive my van about as slow as it goes
I think about passing these slow old folks and mothers
But it's six of one it's half a dozen of these others
I'm not a boy racer
I'm not a boy racer
I'm not a boy racer
I'm not a boy racer
Boy racer
Boy racer
Boy racer
I'm the guy with a blue kombie van
I'm just tripping along about as happy as I can be
So often I catch these envious glances
From people caught in the fast lane’s advances
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Track 05: Your winning way
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
TAB's your solitary
You lock yourself away you lock yourself away
Walking down Queen Street after closing time
Hoping tomorrows another day
You'll get your winning way
And when you get home you lay nothing on the table
Nothing I can count and then we scream and shout
You know I love you baby but will you ever learn
Not to bet your rent on the races
On your winning way
Your winning way
Your winning way
Your winning way
Remember ‘93 our long distance fascination grew
So I sent you the money to meet me in Fiji
But you bet your ticket on a sure one could of been the third of the day
You lied you'd given up on gambling you'd given up
Your winning way
Your winning way
Your winning way
Your winning way
I'm asking you are you winning now?
Are you winning now?
When will you admit it's a disease you got
When will you admit you're hooked
If you can't realise this now it's the last time I say goodbye
For I can't solve this problem of your winning way
Your winning way
Your winning way
Your winning way
I'm asking you are you winning now?
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Track 06: Rest
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
A thousand butterfly lights set free tonight
A rainbow crossing a sky set abright
You were my love you lit the candles
And you kissed my bruised chin
Late at the table I said
Rest rest your eyes
Rest rest your mind
Rest rest your eyes
Rest rest your mind
Sleeping silences and in between you told me how
You'd leave me soon leave me soon and open
Open me like a cavern empty of touch and feel I would be still
And then overflow your silences would show so
Rest rest your eyes
Rest rest your mind
Rest rest your eyes
Rest rest your mind
I said
I said
Come to me before you leave me soon
Come to me with your eyes to tired
Come to me with fireworks for tears
Come to me silent in your head oh won't you
Rest rest your eyes
Rest rest your mind
Rest rest your eyes
Rest rest your mind
Rest my sweetheart
Rest my sweetheart
Rest
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Track 07: Flashback
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
One of those pre-dawns where you shock sleeping seagulls into flight
With your mini-snap camera you try to infiltrate a flock
You've come down for sunrise in a pronounced acid high
And you chase these hazy moments hoping you'll translate your mind
But will you see it again as you are seeing it?
But will you see it again as you’re coming down?
Down the beach plunge your friends
Aeroplanes heading into swim
Amidst laughter and tumbling
You’re all down to bare skin
How do you describe mother ocean?
As she rocks you uncertainly
A wild turquoise that envelopes
Then leaves you phosphorescently
What of the sun
Signalling a new day's begun?
Gently lending you a delicate glimpse
Soon she’ll breath fire from her lips
But will you see it again as you are seeing it?
But will you see it again as you’re coming down?
Down
Down
Down
You never want to come down
Wrapped up in a blanket on a balcony
A hot cup of tea
It all seems to be a dream
Can any of it be reseen?
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Track 08: Look Mama! [a postcard from NY]
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
I yelled look Mama no hands!
As I was riding down Mount Airy Road
And I know you were not there
But you'd have shaken your head
I'm just a dreamer Mama still riding my bike
I'll be middle aged soon Mama I'll still not be grown up
I'm the reject of many relationships Mama
I'm difficult and better off on my own
I'm the reject of many job prospects Mama
Any skills I have this world's outgrown
I know you wish I'd steady on there Mama
But balance is something I've never never known
I'm just a dreamer Mama still riding my bike
I'll be middle aged soon Mama I'll still not be grown up
I was yelling look Mama!
Look Mama! as I was riding
Look Mama! as I was riding
Look Mama! as I was riding
Look out son!
Look out son!
Then a state trooper cited me for peddling reds
Said I could of been hit by an oncoming flatbed
Mama I been dabbling in things I shouldn’t a had
All of my life for the thrill of it
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Track 09: Her piano
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
You know I'm walking along the footpath
The sun is flickering down on me beneath the trees
There’s not too much on my mind I'm happy
I'm going to a strangers to be friends
I'm checking out ants in the cracks in the concrete
Dogs bark through a haze over the city
I reflect on several waves I rode before eight
Down at the beach this morning
Friday thru Sunday this place is like a hell hole
A little bit like another love The Cross
‘cept it's all out of place here beside the ocean
Unlike this smile that is just now crossing my face see
I'm off to her piano
I'm gonna lie around on a couch
Gonna revell in something classical
It's a shared love it's a shared love
It's a shared love of music music
Met a record executive today a very kool guy
Who I think I read right
You know he held a ticket
But I'm in no desperate hurry to take just any ride
I said I'm thankful friendly and I like to laugh
But don't fuck with me now ‘cause when my mouth closes
It might just take your head off
[i don't mean that literally]
Oh well
I'm off to her piano
I'm gonna lie around on a couch
Gonna revell in something classical
It's a shared love it's a shared love
It's a shared love of music music
Such complex rhythms and melodies
I'm just a strummer and I feel in awe of the way
She graces those keys
She graces those keys
You know i'm walking along the footpath
The sun is flickering down on me beneath the trees
Theres not too much on my mind I'm happy
I'm going to a stranger's to be friends
To be friends [and it's all because of music]
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Track 10: A french girl
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
I was down and out in that far away place
When I met a french girl with a smile on her face
She spoke perfect english with a continental twist
She had me laughing off depressions mist
She said the clouds don't know why they float up in the sky
But you know why you feel to die
You're missing love through and through
And I know just what it is we need to do
A french girl loved me she really loved me
A french girl loved me she really loved me
You say I sing of girls it's the same old song
But I love the way they make you feel you belong
To this human race we're not lost in space
That's how I felt waking up in her place
This french girl loved me she really loved me
This french girl loved me she really loved me
As it happens we saw each other a while
She taught me some french and taught me to smile
She said live for the moment in your every day
And now that you're happy you must be on your way
See she had things to do great paintings to view
A deal on her art a big city start
There was too much to her that did not meet the eye
Now she's my friend but I remember the time
This french girl loved me she really loved me
This french girl loved me she really loved me
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Track 11: Not a candidate
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
Seems I once met a girl
Knocked my head under my heels
Now I step back I hate to admit
But I know why I was so into it
She stripped my thoughts naked
But I was mistaken
I could never have found love with her
Looks had simply made me go ga-ga
Funny how my feelings changed
When she liked one of my friends
It taught me a lesson I could only learn the hard way
One more lesson in life's great big play
I thought honey it's one of two
And I've nearly waited for you
But there’s too many fish in this great big sea
Now I'm ditching in I guess I'm gonna swim free
Oh I fell in love with the idea of love
Oh I fell in love with the idea of love
Oh I fell in love with the idea of love
Oh I fell in love with the idea of love
When it was just lust lust lust lust
A week passed and he dumped her
Then she came a calling
Silly girl said I was a new candidate
But I'd moved on or did I not state that?
Her beauty was a stunning thing
But in the end what did it mean?
She was so pretty but there was nowt to say
Yet somehow I nearly made the same mistake
Her body was so fine
But then I had rediscovered my pride
I thought who am I second best?
I said no no no you better take a ride honey
Yeah go on and take a ride honey
Yeah go on and take that ride
Oh no won't be any more hot loving
Oh well that loving wasn't real anyway
See I fell in love with the idea of love
I fell in love with the idea of love
I fell in love with the idea of love
I fell in love with the idea of love
When it was just lust lust lust lust
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Track 12: F**k the gardeners [tall poppy syndrome]
Music & Lyrics by Daniel Gannaway/Apra © 1999
It's not luck in my life that my friends want to move on
They don't care for this syndrome and they stand tall
They say do the best you can don't matter if you fuck up
But don't listen to those gardeners they're just out to
Cut you down they want to cut you down
They want to cut you they'll cut you down
They want to cut you down down
Fair bit of mockery goes down around their house
I don't see them much but when I do there's no where else
You can laugh your head off or admit you messed up
Without some gardener there just poised to
Cut you down they want to cut you down
They want to cut you they'll cut you down
They want to cut you down down
They want to cut cut cut any poppy
They want to cut cut cut any poppy
They want to cut cut cut any poppy
They want to cut cut cut any poppy
So many gardeners here I had to see the world
I ain't seen enough yet but enough to tell you
There's so many people proud and out to help
They're gonna walk all over those who are just out to cut
Cut you down they want to cut you down
They want to cut you they'll cut you down
They want to cut you down down
They want to cut cut cut the poppies
They want to cut cut cut any poppy
They want to cut cut cut any poppy
They want to cut cut cut any poppy
Stand tall
Stand tall
Stand tall
Stand tall |
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