Walk the Plank

Walk the Plank

POST-walk-the-plank

Listen: Walk the Plank

 

Programme notes

Like ‘Art-as-Art’ and ‘Reinhardt Paints a Picture,’ this was a song directly inspired by the writings of painter Ad Reinhardt, whose monk-like artistic asceticism was only matched by his humor. His writings were full of rules for making art that could only lead to making the same thing over and over again.

This song made it onto the second Analecta CD, Body O- Graphic and really captured the sound of the group with Gert-Jan Prin’s prepared snare drum (it had a triangle on it) and Carl Beukman’s percussive playing of the contrabass, in which, if I remember right, he used a snare drum stick on.

Lyrics

Before I start this song
in my obliterated state
I can only be honest
when I’m half-awake
I wanna feel lined and edgey
I wanna be rough and clean
strip me vertical
keep me horizontal bound to your art machine

Before I start this song
before the blinds go up
before the world crashes in
you know my mind’s made up
I’m getting rid of my numbers
I’m starting with the number 12
I’m tossing my malerisch style
no gilded-frame talking with my various selves

your color, your color is my color
no lamp black, mars black, German black or flame
I’d work in silence; my eyelids shut
no trying to be clever on the canvas I cut
no biomorphic bios, no dripping here and there
a painting is a painting and a chair is a chair.
no Byzantine asymmetry, Islamica is out
no go-for-broke brushstroke, no flinging paint about

chorus: I have a good eye
I could rob myself blind
I could give it all up
to sign on the dotted line

Did we mention the numbers?
we can leave the check blank
all you got to do is smile
when you walk the plank

I’d use the Z-twist
water makes it tighter
stretch it out, nail it; it could rain all night
it’s in the wrist
no touch could be lighter
no state-of-grace traces of a hand in sight
your color, your color is my color
no lamp black, mars black, German black or flame
I’d work in silence; my eyelids shut
no trying to be clever on the canvas I cut
no biomorphic bios, no dripping here and there
a painting is a painting and a chair is a chair.
no Byzantine asymmetry, Islamica is out
no go-for-broke brushstroke, no flinging paint about

(chorus)

I use the Z-twist
stretch it out, nail it down

(chorus)

I got a little black mirror
that shrinks the world right down

1993 © voLsap Music, Amsterdam