I've got a postman knocking daily on my door
He says he brings news from heaven's floor
He caters to the young caters to the poor
The love of the sun is all I can afford
It's better than what I thought I had before...
Never been told I was worth the more
I had no word from my kin
My own words ignored
I tried bleedin out the pain I had stored
Now I give love to those who can afford
Between my legs a jewel labours til it's sore
Was once told I was worth more
When did I stop being worth the chore?
Bridge:
Unhinged, Unbearable, Serene
its weight upon my skin
Unhinged, Unbearable, Serene
its weight upon my skin
Uptight, Your values so, upright: Not quite so quiet
Now I've got a postman knockin daily on my door
No clue what he claim to be bringin forth
Stuck under my nails, hidden in my pores
I fear he'll scratch out the pain I've adorned
Redemption is lost on me, lost child of the lord
I would be nothing without me from before
I can’t help my feelings,
I’ll go out of my mind.
These players come to get me
’Cause they’d like my behind.
I can’t love my business,
If I can’t get a trick.
Down on Santa Monica,
Where tricks are for kids.
Oh, come on and kick me.
Oh, come on and kick me.
(Oh.) Come on and kick me.
(Oh.) You’ve got your problems;
(Oh.) I’ve got my ass wipe
I can’t help my boogies;
They get out of control.
I know that you don’t care
But I want you to know.
The knee-stocking flavor
Is a favorite treat
Of men that don’t bother
With the taste of a teat.
Oh, come on and kick me.
Oh, come on and kick me.
(Oh.) Come on and kick me.
(Oh.) You’ve got your problems;
(Oh.) I’ve got my ass wipe
(Oh.) You’ve got your big G's;
I’ve got my hash pipe.
i've got my hash pipe
Oh, come on and kick me.
Oh, come on and kick me.
(Oh.) Come on and kick me.
(Oh.) You’ve got your problems;
(Oh.) I’ve got my ass wipe.
(Oh.) You’ve got your big G's;
I’ve got my hash pipe.
I’ve got my hash pipe.
I've got my hash pipe.
I've got my hash pipe.
Dew breaker
Heart stirrer
I hear you dance a fatal dance
Hot footed steps provide romance
It's not contraband
Wedding ring slips from fingers down into my hand
Clutching foreign lands
Foreign lands
Dew breaker
How do you suppose
I make some future plans
Sweet father
Restless mother
I hear you shaking through the tombs
The saddest eyes are force fed doom
It's not contraband
Wedding ring slips from fingers down into my hand
Clutching foreign lands
Foreign lands
Dew breaker
How do you suppose
I make some future plans
(bridge)
a fight is raging 1 to 4
my legs grown longer than before
i watch the scene from the door
body constrained i've left this floor
Give me a mirror and I'll show my enemy
The fear that tears through my pores ripping inside of me
A homemade-bomb grows in palm as I cut me free
My arms are witness to my tragic loss of dignity
And all the pretty girls call me a freak
I just cut myself trying to stay neat
I'm a toothache giving bitch darling I'm so sweet
Come take a bite out of me
I built a castle was no hassle my skin building blocks
My cherry blood slowly floods and clots to make the knots
Up in my fortress I'm a righteous duchess super clean
The love I give myself, above all else, quite serene
I was bleeding at the nail
Bleeding from the fingernails
I was bleeding from
Every desperate limb
Trying to hold on
Well I held on
I held on
I was crying i was dying
I was trying to move on
Move!
I was trying to hold on
To the fog invading my heart
Wishing that the mist was solid
So it would not fall apart
Well I held on
I held on
I was crying i was dying
I was trying to move on
Move!
Mist dissipated fast
As the mist became the past
Segregated drops of sadness
Lonely everlast
Well i held on
I held on
I was crying i was dying
I was trying to move on
Move!
You never did me solid
You never did me good
As fact as i recall
You only did me wrong
Well I held on
I held on
I was crying i was dying
I was trying to move on
Move!
The woods are sweet
I wonder if they'll whisper wisdom to me
When i'm six feet under carcass feeding greenery
I'm still curious about my destiny
My path being secure
My path being unsure
My path being a blurr
Well you don't even know my name
I spent my best years playing the game
Christianed in the fire water's not the same
Who do you think you should blame?
Strike my drum with my bareback thumb
Wanna seal the skin i'm in
The others alive and young
Well they tell me that i'm old sin
Well they tell me that i'm old sin (x2)
Well you don't even know my name
I spent my best years playing the game
Christianed in the fire water's not the same
Who do you think you should blame?
my wired spine
good thing the rhythm is electric
macabre divine
shock response a little hectic and though still fine
you call me pathetic
yet you don't even know my name...
Well you don't even know my name
I spent my best years playing the game
Christianed in the fire water's not the same
Who do you think you should blame?
There's something generous in your bones
Comfort is blind yet needs no show
I trust that you now know (x2)
My right to fear
My fear of faith
My faith it fails
To keep me
Safe
Here's something generous in your bones
Abundant strength
You care to loan
A marrow ladder your blood has sewn
The rest defects in antonym you grow
My right to fear
My fear of faith
My faith it fails
To keep me
Safe
(X3)
There's something generous
Within your bones
So proud to own the skin
To which their shadow is kin
Tickled by the trust
I lend this cage you bathe me in
My faith it fails to keep me safe (X4)
Pull the trigger on two
My head is loaded
Your gun will do
Don't like surprises
But i'll take them from you
Don't want to see you
Don't want to see you
I don't want to see you hesitate
If there's a limbo
You're its edges
You are stretching me out
In my middle
There's my pride
She is foaming at the mouth
At the mouth
Pull the trigger on 2...
If it's a game then I
Don't know what to choose
If it's a game
Then i don't know how to lose
I challenge you to a simple game of wits
You aim maim
But you dare kill with your fists...
Pull the trigger on 2...
I've got my ears flat to the ground
I'm not listening
Not sleeping sound
I've got no worries
I am all smiles
I've got your face up on replay
For stationnary miles
Pull the trigger on 2...
Mwen sé pié bwa myé
Ma'p senti po'm paka rété tout dous
San bwa'ap coulé
Lè wap cheché coté pou planté clou
Pa mandé poukisa ma'p kimbé giém
Sa'm pa vlé wè reté caché
Tout souveni ke foti konnen
Li préservé nan mè'm
Mwen wè assé
Mwen wè tou plèn
Pa posé sousi pito posé grèn
Mwen sé pié bwa myé
Coté m'rété sé nan la tè rouj
Ak san ma'mwen li collé
Dans macab fey melé devni fou
Sé van k'ap emné'm, sé dans la'p mené
Sé van ki ménaj'am nou gin kadans ko craz
sé konsi nou gin raj
Sé kon moun fou nou samblé
Sé red sé debou n'ap kimbé
Sé rasin ki enflé sé / rasin ké n'ap gadé
I caught ear of the echo
Of my breath on the telephone
I caught ear of the echo
Of my breath on the telephone
The silence is a void yet quite eventful
The silence I try to avoid leaves me a mouthful of bitter remember
My Cart doesn't need a horse to fly
Paradise it seemed with or without your...
Lies, lies, lies, lies
Wishing twice in wells long left to try for dreams impossible
Can't believe I let you back into my arms
Can't believe I let you love me until it harmed my vision of myself
My Cart doesn't need a horse to fly
Paradise it seemed with or without your...
Lies, lies, lies, lies
Scratch the bottom with the skin of your nails
If it hits your bum you should be grateful
The pain might be a blow but you need it for sure
The pain will overflow but it'll lead you back to shore
When you're done with drowning
My Cart doesn't need a horse to fly
Paradise it seemed with or without your...
Lies, lies, lies, lies
I'm ways from sleep
I'm ways from ethereal slumber
I'm ways from sleep
I'm ways from ethereal slumber
I shaved my head
to get my hair out of my eye
I shaved my head
awaitin' to be baked by the gaze of the sky
if there's a glow to be had
why can't be gluttonous?
If there's a glow to be had
why can't i take part in this
i could be warm in the face
bones and cheeks famously flushed in shame
it would not be the same (it would not be the, be the)
leave me to the mercy of my grin
all i need for dress foremost is skin
my sins my scars crown me like a lion
i've broken deals
i've broken truces, dared to kiss the air
i've smattered seals
boundaries bombed way beyond repair
i shaved my head
to let tears breathe so they could dry
and i shaved my head
to make a statement that does need reply
if there's a glow to be had
why can't be gluttonous?
If there's a glow to be had
why can't i take part in this
Executive production and A&R
by Laurent Bizot & Thibaut Mullings
All tracks performed by
Mélissa Laveaux (guitars, vocals)
Ludovic Bruni (guitars, bass),
Vincent Taeger (drums, percussions)
Vincent Taurelle (keyboards)
+ Thea Hjelmeland (vocals) on 'Move On'
Produced by The Jazz Bastards
(Ludovic Bruni, Vincent Taeger and Vincent Taurelle)
Recorded by Vincent Taurelle at studio A.L.B.E.R.T
with the help of Louis Berri and Etienne Meunier
Mixed by Bertrand Fresel at Studios Juno
except 'Generous Bones' and 'Sweetwood' by Renaud Letang
assisted by Thomas Moulin at Studios Ferber
Mastering Adam Ayan - Gateway Mastering
All tracks are written and composed by Mélissa Laveaux
Arranged by Ludovic Bruni, Vincent Taeger, Vincent Taurelle
Published by Nø Førmat!
Except Sweetwood, Calvatious, Move on, Triggers
Written by Mélissa Laveaux
Composed by Melissa Laveaux, Ludovic Bruni, Vincent Taeger, Vincent Taurelle
Published by Nø Førmat!
and Hashpipe
Written and composed by Rivers Cuomo
C’est une douce révolution. Si Mélissa Laveaux n’a rien escamoté de l’identité très forte dessinée par un premier album acclamé (Camphor And Copper, 2008), elle s’est aujourd’hui réinventée. À la douceur acoustique d’un folk langoureux et chaloupé, la jeune femme préfère à présent l’énergie plus sophistiquée d’une pop percutante et irrésistible. L’écriture est toujours aussi personnelle, la voix toujours aussi sensuelle et juvénile, mais les orchestrations explosent en un feu d’artifice inventif, qui fait la part belle aux rythmiques et à des sonorités plus synthétiques.
C’est la réinvention d’une vie. Née à Montréal en 1985 de parents haïtiens, Mélissa Laveaux grandit à Ottawa (Ontario). Dans la foulée de son premier album, elle s’installe en France, une étape délicate qui nourrit largement les textes de Dying Is A Wild Night. La jeune femme y envisage ces dernières années sous un angle intime, puisant dans des moments difficiles une énergie nouvelle. Emprunté à la poétesse américaine Emily Dickinson, le vers complet est “Dying Is A Wild Night And A New Road”. L’idée est belle et symbolique: rompre les amarres avec son pays était à la fois un déchirement et la promesse d’un nouveau départ. C’était aussi un nœud de paradoxes: dans un même mouvement, Mélissa s’éloignait et se rapprochait de sa famille. Elle a mieux appréhendé le parcours de ses parents, émigrés haïtiens, tandis que l’éloignement géographique se doublait d’une incompréhension de leur part sur son choix. C’est le thème du single Postman: arrivée à Paris, il a fallu trouver des ressources ailleurs que dans une lettre que le facteur ne déposera jamais.
La beauté et l’énergie de Dying Is A Wild Night tiennent à une tension entre cette écriture très personnelle ett un travail profondément collectif. L’enregistrement des maquettes, d’abord, s’est fait avec la batteuse de jazz Anne Paceo, indice déterminant sur des chansons à l’assise rythmique souvent étonnante (Mélissa voue une admiration sans borne au duo Wildbirds & Peacedrums, qui travaille sur les combinaisons percussions/voix).
L’enregistrement de l’album est ensuite une collaboration passionnante avec les Jazz Bastards, trio de musiciens réalisateurs. Vincent Taeger (batteries et percussions), Vincent Taurelle (claviers de Air) et Ludovic Bruni (basse, guitares) ont ainsi remodelé certains titres et apporté beaucoup à la texture sonore et à l’énergie rythmique des chansons. Il y a là une modernité qui évoque volontiers la pop mutante de Santigold et Goldfrapp mais aussi les derniers développements de la carrière de Fiona Apple, exigeants et inventifs derrière leurs atours pop.
Mélissa Laveaux le confie sans difficultés : elle écoute beaucoup plus de musique qu’elle n’en écrit. Cela informe ses chansons de milles nuances et influences parfaitement assimilées. L’étonnante reprise du Hash Pipe de Weezer s’impose comme la touche rock d’un album l’éclectisme élégant : soul chantée d’une voix de velours (Dew Breaker), pépites énergétiques et élancées (Pretty Girls,Sweet Wood) ou tubes pop parfaitement balancés entre sonorités organiques et synthétiques (les incroyables Triggers et Generous Bones). Comme un trait d’union avec le premier album de Mélissa, une merveille acoustique au déhanché délicat s’est glissée en fin d’album : chantée en créole, Pie Bwa est une variation autour du Strange Fruit de Billie Holiday, écrite du point de vue de l’arbre, ensanglanté. Une image puissante sur un album audacieux: orchestrations modernes, mélodies imparables et textes personnels traversés d’interrogations sur la foi, Dying Is A Wild Night est de la trempe des grands disques pop, qui touchent à la fois le cœur, la tête et le plexus.
