Five Turnings

by Navajo Ace

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about

Adam Barnes - Vocals & Guitar
Thom Dewhurst - Guitar & Vocals
Christian Burton - Bass
Crag Sharpe - Drums

Recorded & mixed at JT Soar, Nottingham by Phil Booth.
Produced by Phil Booth & Navajo Ace.
Mastered by Jesse Cannon at Cannon Found Soundation, NYC.

Harmonica on Awkward Places by Chris Patterson.
Organ on Awkward Places by Phil Booth.
Special thanks to Alex Stobart, who played guitar on this EP.

credits

released August 5, 2017

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about

Navajo Ace Worcester, UK

A noisy indie rock band.

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Track Name: Tiger In The Tank
let me know the lethargy my heart had winter long
before it looks to lace the spring
and uncoil me towards a hungry soured old man
and pride, protection, privilege
i can't place amongst the pious ones
stuffed from the spoils of class wars
wrap me in another song of wise and warm warnings
keep me from the gloss and screaming emptiness
of all these adverts
for pride, protection, privilege
i can't place amongst the pious ones
arching their backs and their sons
should we let it go creeping into all that there is?
the secret of the salesman's fatigue?
whilst i'm conscious i'll try and think for myself
while we all were spending on youth
it left, it's gone, let it go
you'll be a long time waiting for youth
it's gone, it went
don't be lured towards the pious ones
wheezing whilst the pull their ladders up
i should let it go
we might grow tired of being herded in line
while you grow weaker and less self satisfied
then one day we might take some of this back for ourselves
Track Name: Underneath Cars
in this swirling green cacophony
you barely built a scene
the desperate clipboard checks
the epaulettes of the sturdy work-wear seamed
can't keep you awake
the whisperings
the moppings of blood
and the headaches of cruel chance
and darkness magnified
were all that survived
the crash and crush descends
one last time
it's a punishing heat
for despairing speakers
in cautious living rooms
the wilting flowers and cards
flutter underneath cars
and along idle pavement
towards the questioning
who took this life and all of its intention?
who'll cast the rope when i'm adrift?
and what can i do with it?
the first time that i let my mind go [is]
the last time that i'll seek
this ancient mineral beneath my feet
now it's been four years
and we're all still waiting
for something that is clear
a censure that might sooth
but it can never be anything other than
life without you
in all those hours awake awake
well you could never find a use for all that heartache
keep it for something better than use
let something else gnaw at you
for the first time
Track Name: Five Turnings
this old settlement sent us back here
every winding evening
the banks that claimed our ankle sprains
were mountains then
targets made with little care from polystyrene bases
kept the worried old ones worried up until dark
why do i unpack these things to you?
the count ticks along
in the grass in the dirt
my head is drenched
the count ticks along
am i alive like i was then?
the chemicals in fireworks tearing the dark?
did i fall to the ground and dissolve in the earth?
i guess i'm settling and re-setting clear those
muddled youthful leanings
every knot will loosen off as i face home
and all the noise cooped up in our houses
grows into a shout of
"keep the worried old ones and they'll keep you back"
i can still shout numbers out to you
the count ticks along
until we're returned
the count ticks along
on the day that the hands round those eyes start to slip
and the count is out
don't be left with needing more
Track Name: Drop The Needle
another suited man in sixties soft lines
leans his back into a cadillac
where the stammering cross-hairs arrived
another pistolf flashing
another needle dropping
thousands more
piling on thousands more
will slump too
because of what you thought you saw
the sights and sighs and cries go to elements
everywhere on this canvas
where i'll end
in this bubble
the savaged flesh displayed
like a monument to slaves
in spotlights on a stage
for the grieving mothers
another suited man in grainy ghost grey
his juddering carriage is set upon
by the most righteous subservience
another pistol flashing
another needle dropping
a wrecking ball
started at bullet small
for murdering the murderers of murderers
all the centuries they'll fill with sleep
keep stretching out
the sights and sighs and cries go to elements
everywhere on this canvas
where i'll end
in this bubble
the savaged flesh displayed
like a monument to slaves
in spotlights on a stage
for the grieving mothers