Get all 5 Jake Shane releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of High Desert Hymns, Kalina & Other Modern Myths, Water To Land, Evening Sounds, and Ancient Fire.
1. |
The All Night Boys
04:34
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The All Night Boys
Valley stretched out like the ancient spine
Of a King James Bible stained with Sunday wine
And the stars exhale over Granada
A darker, an older sonata
Water kneeling, rising, chanting on rocks
Under the blown up bridge with all the rusted locks
Your heart started hard as the temple columns
But that didn’t keep the kingdom from falling
And the all night boys with their melodies
Hanging to the walls of the narrow streets
Blood orange boughs bow in weighted silence
As the air is thickened with a cavalry of violence
And the bride with a kerchief in her hands
The groom’s razor blade in the river sand
She dreams of gypsies tying, taking Jacob
To a sea of reeds just before she wakes up
And the stars exhale over Granada
A darker, an older sonata
And the all night boys with their melodies
Hanging to the walls of the narrow streets
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2. |
Visions
04:29
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Visions
The room was quiet and warm
Almost as if there were no storm
Limbs bent about to spill
Against the pane and windowsill
Rain stones wrote their poetry
As we hunted the mystery
Ay ay ay ay, ay ay ay, ay ay
White light of the new moon shone
Just like jasmine on unhewn stone
Isaac touched his cheek to it
To see if he still could submit
The consecrated blade on his knee
As he hunted the mystery
Ay ay ay ay, ay ay ay, ay ay
Curtains rose as windows cracked
The night began its final act
You unwound a lullaby
Words replaced by deepening sighs
Your chest was a rising sea
As we hunted the mystery
Ay ay ay ay, ay ay ay, ay ay
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3. |
The Upper Sun
03:39
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The Upper Sun
Old men amble through the park
With hands held behind their backs
Or else they cast fishing lines
And reel in all the slack
Fortune tellers tilt their heads
To remember all the refrains
Pigeons perch on outstretched palms
And cards curl with the coming rain
You walk by with the afternoon
The upper sun in your hair
I recognize your face
Seen you here twice this week
Once in the crystal palace
Once near the almond trees
If I see you once again
I swear I’ll fall to my knees
Senegal men lean on iron
Rails of the rowboat lake
The saxophone marches in
With the dancing man in skates
Gypsy women carry rosemary
Pressed against their chests
Boys and girls roll around
For hours without a rest
You walk by with the afternoon
The upper sun in your hair
I recognize your face
Seen you here twice this week
Once by the fallen angel
Once near the library
If I see you here again
I swear I’ll fall to my knees
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4. |
Seascape
03:27
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Seascape
Burial clouds are descending
The captain tells you to be brave
But cliffs are impending, bulwarks bending,
And the hull is digging a grave
Dogs are howling in the bay
But St. Brendan has gone away
St. James can’t show you the way
And St. John don’t work on Sundays
Painters will paint wild oceans
Singers will sing of the waves
But only a sailor knows the motions
Of a ship that cannot be saved
Dogs are howling in the bay
But St. Brendan has gone away
St. James can’t show you the way
And St. John don’t work on Sundays
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5. |
The Lights Go Out
05:05
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The Lights Go Out
She was washing the dishes and singing with the water
Yellow gloves rubbing the rhythm of her lyric
I held a cloth as she turned to me and said
When I see beauty I always feel melancholic
And her lives above
Painting boats a chestnut shade
And this is my favorite part
When the lights go out
She was searching for books in a room of thousands
Distant music mining under a dark landscape
She brought down two poets, turned to me and said
It’s April—read this sepulcher, then these sonnets to escape
And her skies above
Staring west at Jupiter
And this is my favorite part
When the lights go out
She was playing a Chopin waltz on the untuned R.S. Howard
Black red white ribbon bobbing in her tangled harp-string hair
Her arms were waves of light and I thought I heard
Her whisper about beauty falling from the air
And her treasures above
All hidden in the broken bed
And this is my favorite part
When the lights go out
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6. |
Before Winter
05:07
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Before Winter
You leaned over the rocks
Soaking the white sheet in water
Echoes of light on your dress
Echoes of night in your sigh
You watched the boys in the stream
Swim toward their childhood dreams
And you wished it were just as it seemed...
But you say it’s only a matter of time
Before winter, and the curtains are closed
He stood on the hill with his paints
Brushing the sun in your hair
The breath of the wind on his vest
The breath of your body in his eyes
He watched you wringing the sheet
The streams of water on your feet
And he dreamed of the day you would meet...
But you say it’s only a matter of time
Before winter, and the curtains are closed
They lay on the warm river rocks
Counting the wet cotton clouds
The echo of a breath on their chests
The breath of an echo from behind
They watched you turn toward the hill
Your body a slave to your will
And you stood with the white sheet so still…
But you say it’s only a matter of time
Before winter and the curtains are closed
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7. |
The Grinding Stone
03:21
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The Grinding Stone
I stand in this room all alone
Turning the grinding stone
It leaves palettes of dust on the hardwood floor
To be swept in one sweep out the door
Crickets scratch out a moan
Lemon leaves swing in undertones
And the delicate webs of the night are sewn
To make it all seem a bit less hollow
So much work still remains
And yet what is there to gain?
Well it’s getting late now and anyway
I count in hours not in days
I look for the boundary line
Between the real and divine
On the edge of the edge of the blade I grind
I feel it from time to time
The rumor of horses spreads fast
Along the hedgerow then the grass
They are coming four to take me at last
From this room this stone this task
But so much work still remains
And yet what’s really to gain?
Well it’s getting late now and anyway
I count in hours not in days
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8. |
Evening Sounds
04:55
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Evening Sounds
As the olives are slowly pressed
Up against the metal twilight
Church bells ask for answers
And the village dogs contesting
While hammered strings climb cedar beams
To where Cecilia’s sons are resting
And chiming in some chimney swifts
Shadows streaming past the western window
And oh, the white-washed houses hold
The last of the country’s light
And evening sounds are filling up
These rooms that were once so bright
Wind and dust form silver bows
That sweep over waves of Spanish pages
And the feather ink pen trembles
Like a sail its ropes drawn taut
While the needle spirals the circle slate
Slowly unwinding the knots
She is sitting in her mermaid chair
Looking for the faded meadow
But oh, the white-washed houses hold
The last of the country’s light
And evening sounds are filling up
These rooms that were once so bright
One by one the dogs lay down
Their jaws on paws in cherry groves
And the shadows swing suspended
Over the bed of her sleeping sons
While strings, ropes, and knots are slacked
And the church bells have rung out of questions
The wind is sinking beneath the waves
And the olives completely swallowed
And oh, the white-washed houses fold
Deep into the country night
Leaving evening sounds to fill up
The rooms of our dreams tonight
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9. |
The Blacksmith
04:29
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The Blacksmith
Like the blacksmith with his hammer
I just want you to give a little
But you’re as hard as any anvil
And it’s breaking my will
Well I followed you like you told me
Past the brick tobacco buildings
To the hilltop threshing floor
But you wanted, you wanted more
Mountains melted into flocks of
Sheep and I felt just like one
I waited for you until the fall
You didn’t care, care at all
Like the blacksmith with his hammer
I just want you to give a little
But you’re as hard as any anvil
And it’s breaking my will
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10. |
Birds Flew On By
04:03
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Birds Flew On By
I found you below
Slowly drinking the fig tree’s shadow
You showed me how the river
Had cut the cliff so steep so low
With your hands spread wide
Like the village on the mountainside
You took the air prisoner
Then you opened your mouth and sighed
And the birds flew on by
Flew on by, bye
Four a.m. woke me
With buckskin drums crossing the valley
You were still dancing on cobblestones
Covered in melted wax and sherry
I found you below
Singing sacred songs in the meadow
The daughters of the wilderness
Told me again to let you go
And the birds flew on by
Flew on by, bye
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Jake Shane Madrid, Spain
Jake Shane is an American singer-songwriter based in Madrid, Spain.
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