Pre​-​E​.​P.

by L.A Salami

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04:28
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03:58
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credits

released June 17, 2012

Produced by Robbie Moore, Peter Lyons, Tom Atkenhead

Lead Guitar: Chistopher Lane
Bass: Greg Dearing
Banjo: Alistair Mackenzie
Trombone: Sky Murphy

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L.A. Salami UK

Lookman Adekunle Salami - ‘L.A. Salami’ - is a rare breed of musician that the world has been craving since the height of storytelling legends like Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon and Neil Young. Not quite folk, not quite indy, not quite common and certainly not boring, L.A. Salami’s lyricism and voice are hypnotic. ... more

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Track Name: The Scene
The queen of spades digs me a grave,
the heaven’s maid halts her charade,
while god points a shotgun at my eye.

The Troubadour has made his way,
his blissfulness and my decay
go together like Lucy and diamonds in the sky.

And the tailors find it hard to tell a lie,
they fix me up a suit made of arrogance and twine,
because I said that I would make the heavens mine,
and that I’d climb over anyone to be
part of the scene.

The Watchman’s weak as mercy goes,
all he can see are how the turncoats blow
a cloud of poison gas right up my nose.

And the music’s only good as far
as the madness and the poorness spar
with the passion that my grandeur drags in tow.

And as the fruits on my tree of labour grow
my boots uproot the agony below.
and the Almoners and the Ushers, they all know
that I’d pose as anything to be
part of the scene.

The advertiser has kind words for me
while the singer’s just been affirmed to me,
with her beauty her ambition and her charm.

But if you play this game you’ll learn a trick,
how to grow a pair and make ‘em stick,
like the tattoo of Bob Dylan on my arm.

Taliesin extends his hand,
he gives me more than I can understand.
he mourns me when I give in
to those lines I’ve drawn in the sand.

He said jump first then decide next where to land,
on a lion’s tongue or in the middle of the sea,
because up-in-the-air’s a place that I can’t stand,
and I’ll be myself if I have to be
to be part of the scene.
Track Name: Jianni's From Australia (she'll get by fine)
Jianni’s from Australia 
but she’s here to stay, 
with her hair like golden sunlight 
on a summer’s day.
Her eyes caught the sun in Sydney 
and there it remains, 
it shines through her skin and laughter 
makes the shadows sway

Chorus:
That Chinese blood of hers 
is reaching for the fire 
that was lit by Durrel books 
Full of poetry or higher. 
Her brain is full of words 
from all the poets she admires 
… she gets by fine…

Jianni doesn’t like the cold 
it once made her weep 
she was forced to wait for a night bus 
when she needed sleep.
But she was out the next night, 
the cold won’t keep her down; 
you can’t help but feel warm inside 
when Jianni’s around.

(Chorus)

Jianni’s got her own place now, 
the cheapest place she took, 
she travels with a trunk of clothes 
And an Allen Ginsberg book.
She gets itchy thighs sometimes 
and she’ll let you know 
Jianni is beautiful 
she’s all the boys in tow.

(Chorus)

Jianni’s from Australia 
and she fell in love, 
but it stopped her from being happy 
so she gave it up.
And love and loss are a perfect way to 
douse a flame 
but jianni’s soul is burning, 
she’ll burn again.

(Chorus)
Track Name: The Posture Of Grief
Everyday is a chore
I cannot take it no more
I’ve got no job and I’m poor
and my determination is sore
Lady luck is a whore
and she’d stopped knocking at my door
I can barely remember
when we were together.
It just seems so long ago…

(Chorus)
My will’s frazzled, my brain’s rattled,
I go insane everyday I do battle;
there’ll be more sorrow, of this there’s no doubt,
but the posture of grief is chin up and chest out.

I’ve got no shoulder to brace
the solemn weight of my face
and I feel like a disgrace
my mind’s all over the place.
These heinous winds I’ve endured
have knocked me down to the floor
and I can’t seem to pull
myself together.
It just seems all too much for me.

(Chorus)
My will’s frazzled, my brain’s rattled,
I go insane everyday I do battle;
there’ll be more sorrow, of this there’s no doubt,
but the posture of grief is chin up and chest out.

New years and the summer, they both stole your heart,
but the devil and his woman will have you play your part
as the lowly unexpected victim of despair,
there are a million men just like you,
but that don’t mean you shouldn’t care.

I drown my sorrows in drugs
but are narcotics enough…?
I just wake up feeling rough -
I think this all is too much.
This may be the end
but that all depends
on how I hold it
all together.
But there ain’t much that can pull me through.

(Chorus)
My will’s frazzled, my brain’s rattled,
I go insane everyday I do battle;
there’ll be more sorrow, of this there’s no doubt,
but the posture of grief is chin up and chest out.
(x2)
Track Name: Shoes
On an earth where the oceans
don’t bow to a notion
that a man or a master rule,
the winds take pity
on the kings of the cities
who build both prison blocks and schools.
The doves choke, and the men go blind,
the slaves and the landlords, too.
And a boy dies, dies for some shoes.

On a land that is likened
to an age of enlightened,
some boys argue inside a store.
And for some mild irritation
descends escalation,
after which a knife is drawn.
A boy draws lead, and another sees red,
and then they run him through.
And a boy dies, dies over some shoes.

On the streets that cater
to an age of spectators
lay a boy in a river of blood,
the crowd take pictures
as his body twitches
and the paramedics stitch the cuts.
The country screams, as the image streams,
uploaded moments on Youtube
of when a boy died, died over some shoes.

On a high street heaving
in an age of reason
where the cash flow floods the graves,
the bank crutch crumbles
as the merchants stumble
to lay claim to where their children play.
The layman starves as the protests march
at the behest of the news,
while a boy dies, dies for some shoes.

It is said that the gods
will first make mad
those who they wish to destroy.
So, if to be reborn
means to be unmade
then count the madness we enjoy.
And as the day turns night, the season’s lights
go on for one last time
by where a boy died, died for some shoes.

Where a boy died, died over some shoes.
Track Name: I Know The Trouble I Am (you don't know the trouble you are)
It’s now been a year since I went and blew it,
I’ll get straight to the point, here’s the fat, now chew it
- I bet you don’t even spare a second thought for me.

Forget the metaphors, I’ll just say it plainly;
despite the pain you caused, there ain’t no more distain,
I just thought you deserved a song, you see.

I might’ve been a girl, but you’re just plain old fashioned ghoulish,
and if that’s not the case then you know damn well that I’m foolish.
But you, you always had your silver tongue.

But despite your pricy words, it was rusting and you knew it
and all your lovers ducked whenever you drew it.
Yes, “lovers”, plural, I know you had more than one.

Chorus:
‘Cause you’re just like me,
You try your luck at every hand.
But I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am.
I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am.

So tell me what’s your game, what the hell’s your motive?
You went by pretty fast, but then again I just suppose it’s
definitely got something to do with me.

But I’m not in to all of that damn self deprecation,
I just thought I’d fall for a chance to have a taste of
that love, that love… that love…

But such naivety of thought deserves the backing of a boozer,
and you were drunk as hell and you were lusting for a loser,
and guess who was the first guy out of the blocks you happened to see.

And I don’t mean myself, I mean the guy who came before me,
don’t tell him what we did, it might reflect on us quite poorly.
Oh, god bless your soul.

Chorus:
‘Cause you’re just like me,
You try your luck at every hand.
But I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am.
I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am.
Yes, I know the trouble, all of the trouble I am.
Track Name: We'll Solve It After
You know as well as I
that even beauty has to die
and beauty is a bed of joy
where we two lovers lie.

And these moments may just be
a flash in the frying pan,
“You see, nothing lasts”
is what you said to me
- it’s what we both believe.

And I know you’ve a lover back at home
but it pleases me just to be alone
with you
- you said you felt it, too.

And must I bid you adieu?
is your Irish song to take leave soon?
is it fear that will take your lips away?

It’s a problem that we grasp in between
the laughter.
But you say “Hey, forget it. We’ll solve it after.”


When you climb on top of me
it makes it easier to see
that delight is a fair maiden,
and I shall not darken thee.

And even when I am fatigued
in fact, I’d say especially,
it’s then that you will
melt my melancholy.

And it ain’t so strenuous to see
that you just might be
even drowsily,
mine.

But must I,
with this aching pleasure nigh,
fear that your soul will go away?

It’s a problem that we’ve yet to master.
But you say “Hey, forget it. We’ll solve it after.”

But eventually I’ll have to leave
despite how I dread to leave you be;
that bed of ours is so serene
- it is quite a scene.

But even scenes, however long they seem,
have to cease to be, “You see, nothing lasts,”
is what you said to me
- it’s what we both believe.

But for a moment can we just see
what it’s like to leave the world be…

And must I
put aside this dream?
Is it fear that will take your words away?

It’s a problem that we grasp as our hearts beat faster.
But you say “Hey, forget it. We’ll solve it after.”