Drones
by The Display Team
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Compact Disc
Full 12-track album in it's physical glory!
Also includes immediate download of 12-track album in your choice of 320k mp3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire. -
Digital Album
Immediate download of 12-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Buy Now ₤6 GBP
1. |
Worry-Sponge
02:16
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2. |
Gnaw The Iron Paw
02:54
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3. |
Norwegian Honey
04:02
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4. |
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5. |
Irksome Treasurer
04:01
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6. |
Body-Renting
03:05
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7. |
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8. |
Pitfalls Of Politeness
03:03
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9. |
Wring Wrong
03:29
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10. |
A pathetic Pill
04:04
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11. |
Conjunctivitis
04:39
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12. |
A Letter To Russia
03:22
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about
This is the debut full-length album by The Display Team.
credits
released 01 February 2009
Produced by The Display Team & Chris Mansell
Engineered and mixed by Chris Mansell at The Musicomplex
Additional engineering by Rich Grierson
Strings on 'A Letter To Russia' recorded by Malcolm Gayner at Orange & Blue Studios
Gemma Gayner: violin & viola
Michael Moore: cello
Mastered by Jeff Mortimer at JM Mastering
Artwork by Lee Hardcastle
Produced by The Display Team & Chris Mansell
Engineered and mixed by Chris Mansell at The Musicomplex
Additional engineering by Rich Grierson
Strings on 'A Letter To Russia' recorded by Malcolm Gayner at Orange & Blue Studios
Gemma Gayner: violin & viola
Michael Moore: cello
Mastered by Jeff Mortimer at JM Mastering
Artwork by Lee Hardcastle
tags
license
all rights reserved
feeds
feeds for about
shows
-
Sep 06Kent, UK
discography
-
Feb 2009 -
Jan 2007 -
Jan 2006
contact / help
For help with downloads, click here.
For all other inquiries, including help with merch, click here.
Redeem download codes here.
- Track Name: Worry-Sponge
-
Abandoned, used, abused or in distress?
Here's my number and address:
let me save you from this mess.
Dumbfounded by the mass of tragedy -
the relentless misery...
...but who's looking out for me?
At one time, phones were ringing off the hook;
periled people thought I wrote the book
on amateur therapy...
That's not me.
A local samaritan...
Charlatan...
Bespectacled oracle...
...knows bollock-all!
...open all hours!
Worldly wisdom not forthcoming;
qualified for next to nothing...
Worldly wisdom not forthcoming;
qualified for next to nothing...
Worldly wisdom not forthcoming;
qualified for next to nothing...
Worldly wisdom not forthcoming;
qualified for next to nothing.
Helpless to the point of a new problem;
I want to be part of the solution!
And just when the horizon slightly clears,
more calamity appears!
Now my shoulder's rotten through with tears.
Please don't take me for granted;
I'm only human and I also have feelings.
If I get saturated, I may lose my absorbent quality.
Please don't take me for granted;
I'm only human and I also have feelings.
Satisfied with sagely bluffing;
qualified for next to nothing...
So if you harbour fear or deep regret
or a trauma that you can't forget,
I'm a useless pair of ears and yet
I remain your devoted worry-sponge,
always there to take the plunge...
...when it all goes tits-up,
who's the one who sits up and listens...
...sits up and listens...
...sits up and listens to you? - Track Name: Gnaw The Iron Paw
-
The drum gets louder every day -
double-triple lock your doors.
We'll break the doors down anyway,
(and) take back what was never yours.
The bleeding throat of discontent
has bled for centuries, and though it bleeds,
it only heals to be tougher,
and it can't be escaped, no matter
where you choose to go on your holiday -
we are the crews of the aeroplanes and the ships,
and your limousine chauffeur,
pissing on your chips!
Lemmings maybe plummet dumbly to their deaths,
but better than condemning under whispered breath...
Dismantle everything and start again!
(Start again!)
This tiny cog is pulling teeth -
spinning freely as a tiny wheel
from underneath the machine!
No more privileged positions! Over and out.
Gnaw the iron paw! Upset the see-saw!
Out with the old, in with the new!
Tear up the blueprints and revise
total demise as destiny:
Maste history that can't be sold!
All or nothing...all or nothing...all or nothing...all or nothing!
Rock the boat off course! Of course, if we can think it, we can sink it!
Feel the fire in your gut!
Grab a grip on the reins!
Run the risk of defeat!
Feel the fire in your gut!
The drum gets louder every day...
...here are how the rules are changing:
No more privileged positions! Over and out. End transmission. - Track Name: Norwegian Honey
-
On a boat afloat on a treacherous sea,
stood a girl in a coat with a picture of me
in her pocket, in a locket, in the shape of a heart;
how she got there is a tale I shall tell from the start...
I met a woman four years ago on a misty day in May;
I said, "Woman, where're you from?";
she said "I am not from your way - I am from the land of Norway".
I said, "I hear it's beautiful and I'd love to see the fjords,
and ooh, I could say the same of you..."
"Ooh, you've got some charm and I can see you on my arm,
and I can see we're gonna make quite a pair!" (What a pair!)
Norwegian honey, well, she's on her way back,
(on her way) back to Bergen.
She got the ferry from Newcastle Dock,
she's on her way home again. Yeah!
A brunette from a blonde nation in Scandina-v-i-a ('round Sweden's way);
The way she left me left me in distress,
now she's leaving on the crest of a wave.
We started datin' then fornicatin'
then she started actin' quite strange -
told all her mates that I was great,
then went on to state I was god-ordained...
In her room, she made a shrine,
starring me in effigy, arms spread wide!
(Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why...)
"Why," you cry, "didn't you drop this girl? She's dotty!".
Well, the problem was this girl was quite a hottie...
...but that was back then and this is now.
My Norwegian honey, well, she's on her way back,
(on her way) back to Bergen.
She got the ferry from Newcastle Dock,
she's on her way home again. Yeah!
A brunette from a blonde nation in Scandina-v-i-a ('round Sweden's way);
The way she left me left me in distress,
now she's leaving on the crest of a wave.
I bought her a locket, but she didn't go and hock it,
no, she bought the same one for all her mates!
It seemed to me that she be formin' a cult!
She gave me heebie-jeebies, but she was REALLY hot...
I found a leaflet - on the front was my face;
inside was some info on 'superior race';
"Pay a thousand pounds now", yeah that's the joining fee;
I see Norwegian honey's makin' money out of me!
This time she has gone too far!
There are no marbles left in her jar!
The time for humping is over and done,
but the time for dumping has just begun!
Go back to Norway!
Norwegian honey, well, she's on her way back,
(on her way) back to Bergen.
She got the ferry from Newcastle Dock,
she's on her way home again. Yeah!
A brunette from a blonde nation in Scandina-v-i-a (yay yay yay yay);
The way she left me left me in distress,
now she's leaving (leaving) on the crest (on the crest) of a wave. - Track Name: Check-Up (From The Neck Up)
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Don't dangle kudos medallions no-one else can see!
You're a beef-witted, self-appointed prophet.
The planet does not revolve around you: its full of those far more talented, deft, adept, deserving.
Prancing around with very little clothes on now;
the joke could be on you -
it's been raining in the real world,
fucking chucking it down outside!
Grey matter suicide - get a check-up!
You mangle all reason, tangle with sleaze and wrangle lies into shapes that only you can recognise.
Blinkered by reptilian race -
a lizard with a human face (?!!).
Bints and beers -
Dropped hints are falling on deaf ears;
your fingerprints are in the smears,
incriminating your alter-ego, so
get a grip! It's not about one-upmanship.
Here, have another red-hot tip:
once is a blip, and twice is a new league.
Prancing around; king of your private dirt-mound,
the joke could be on you -
it's been raining in the real world,
fucking chucking it down outside!
Grey matter suicide!
Get a check-up
from the neck up
lest one day you run out of luck.
Social glue
never bonded with you -
it's no surprise you came unstuck.
You'll probably never listen to this, you'd just misquote,
misinterpret, totally miss the message.
Despicable, unpredictable prick: all terms applicable
to this sickly mess!
Stand under the rain, un-bury your brain and wonder...
Unimpressed by your chest;
Please get dressed (you're making no friends here),
unwelcome guest (you make us all unwelcome).
Unimpressed
by your chest;
Please get dressed (you're making no friends here),
unwelcome guest (you make us all unwelcome).
Unimpressed
by your chest;
Please get dressed (you're making no friends here),
unwelcome guest (you make us all unwelcome).
(All news is good news.
All news is good news.
All news is good news.
All news is good news.
All news is good news.
All news is...
All news is good news.
All news is good news.
All news is good news.
All news is good news.
All news is good news.
You leave us)
unimpressed. - Track Name: Irksome Treasurer
-
I know men hang on to your every word;
I've heard them all before: recycled anecdotes
that bore me into submission every time...
(Every time...) it's the same - it's pretty much exactly the same.
Legions of adoring admirers,
not just a pretty face;
your friends will testify.
I might believe you, if not for all the
patronising lectures that ramble on (and on and on)
do very little to endear yourself to me;
you won't impress with your tales of high society.
(Society) dictates that we should be grateful for such a precious commodity...
...but women are just as common as men, so you aren't a 'one-in-a-million',
and so, naturally, you're not special to me.
(Yeah!)
Thunderously bored now, my weary ears can take no more
incessant droning, but I'm still here, unsatisfied, desensitised,
and I'm still not spent. - Track Name: Body-Renting
-
Wide awake again:
the uninviting morning light protruding, rudely,
through the night, assisted deftly by maniacal mechanical persuasions,
slicing through the silence, piercing all resistance.
(Resistance) is futile;
I can't win today or tomorrow (-morrow) (-morrow) (-morrow).
Gloom, palpable, looms tangible,
capable of infiltration.
Regular drudgery.
Trudge a weary path to just another day;
I won't claw back, racing rats.
Soul-chipping, personality-warping, if you're not careful.
Oh!
Everybody wrapped up in a nice and tight and warm existence;
everybody thinking everybody else is just another extra
on the stage which everybody shares but no-one owns.
Regular drudgery: too tired to disagree,
so switch into a 'zombie mode' - virtually comatose.
My body is wearing numb;
I fear my brain may soon succumb.
Toil and graft!
To ease your passage, oil the shafts and grease the poles
which won't cease to rent your body into a lifeless mess of gaping, shapeless holes.
Resistance is futile!
I can't win today or tomorrow!
Resistance is futile! - Track Name: Karma's Gonna Get You (Filthy Scum)
-
Sluggish rearguard aside,
the sheer weight of ingrates should suffice to rancorous glee.
Impetus will derive from that cunt, the lynchpin,
for some further skirmishing.
Macho man, confident,
can he resist taking underwhelming risks when
thirsty vampires nestle under thumb?
Odd-stacked rat pack attack!
A sheer lack of slack cut -
just a snack! More fun in the back!
Macho man, confident,
can he resist taking underwhelming risks when
thirsty vampires nestle under thumb?
Could Van Damme be content?
Could he resist overwhelming fists if tables switched? No!
Karma's gonna get you, filthy scum.
Yellow bellies are marginal when an entourage that large can charge without fear.
Macho man, confident,
can he resist taking underwhelming risks when
thirsty vampires nestle under thumb?
Could Van Damme be content?
Could he resist overwhelming fists if tables switched? No!
Karma's gonna get you, filthy scum. - Track Name: Pitfalls Of Politeness
-
Do I really have to 'small-talk' again?
Time again already to thrash out nothing.
Mumbling and awkward, just sip your drink,
nod your head and rue your new enforced embroilment.
Tiny variations, but well-rehearsed,
never venturing away from well-trod earth.
We have nothing in common,
but the further we dwindle the harder it gets to leave...
Look for someone you know
to give you an excuse.
We both know it's only for show,
so why don't we just skip pleasantries now?
Instead, we follow the entire blueprint.
No respite until they leave or the last bell tolls...
Grab your coat and get the fuck out (and leave the premises):
I'm not listening!
We both know it's only for show,
so why don't we just skip pleasantries now?
Instead, we follow the entire blueprint. - Track Name: Wring Wrong
-
In a past as dull as damnable,
I was an animal: a dog,
loyal to my master, totally programmable:
I would sit, roll over or play dead,
or kill if she said the word...
...how I longed to ask her - could I lick the hand that fed?
I burn every candle and drown myself in waxy puddles
when I can't help but remember all of my grand mistakes and muddles.
Every night, before the light goes out,
I utter these words (which, though unheard,
haven't been changed since we were estranged:)
'I have not forgotten about you';
and although I doubt you care, I go on undeterred.
It doesn't right those wrongs to write these songs,
so the question is: why repeat malfeasance like this?
(Malfeasance! Malfeasance! Malfeasance! Malfeasance!)
Because one can wring wrong from cowardice;
spewing new tunes from one's weakness (Weakness. Weakness.)
To my kin, sincere apologies if my psychology's the dregs,
(but) one can't make an omelette if one doesn't break some eggs...
On a quilt, I was sitting on a girl and made her feel uncomfortable,
and I'm feeling so uncomfortable now that the guilt is sitting on me.
Under a quilt the guilt is hiding.
Under a quilt the guilt is hiding.
Aimlessly drifting from one blunder to the next oversight,
to the next foolhardy cock-up, can I do nothing right?
Aimlessly drifting from one blunder to the next oversight,
to the next foolhardy cock-up, can I do nothing right?
I'm so ashamed of the blame laid against my name
that I would rather maim me than the selfsame.
All the deeds I can't be proud of and the words I did not mean...
(All the deeds I can't be proud of and the words I did not mean...)
All the deeds I can't be proud of and the daft words...
...cannot be undone or unsaid...
...sedulous quest to reconcile...
...I'll just say one thing and that's
SORRY
and I hope that my message reaches you through the wires.
Aimlessly drifting from one blunder to the next oversight,
to the next foolhardy cock-up, can I do nothing right? - Track Name: A pathetic Pill
-
You can see right through my cheerful expression.
You can see that there is more there.
I've had a taste of a pill for depression.
The label advises to handle with care.
Its name is ignorance and apathy.
(Take it everyday, keep sadness at bay!)
We can all be happy.
Get rid of your problems and your concern.
(You won't know shit so can't care about it!)
We will never learn.
The problems of the human kind
are weighing down your fragile mind.
It's easier to forget than to think and then to fret.
Leave anxiety to those with piety yeah!
The pill it is growing in popularity
even the media help it succeed.
The side-effects include a loss of humanity
and it increases both hunger and greed.
Its name is ignorance and apathy.
(Take it everyday, keep sadness at bay!)
We can all be happy.
Get rid of your problems and your concern.
(You won't know shit so can't care about it!)
We will never learn.
It is popular amongst the youth.
They lose that drive to find the truth.
The addicts look down their nose
at intellectuals through glasses of rose.
Hey you have heard the news!
Hey you have you seen the news!
Hey you tell me the news!
Ignore the world around you get a blast of the bliss.
Tell us some more rev! Tell us some more!
Take some hits of this to shroud yourself in mist.
Tell us some more rev! Tell us some more!
Don't let the fuckers poison your mind
with tales of pain and homicide.
Don't wallow, just swallow, so you can hide
from this stinking world...
Yeah
No
No
No No No
Yeah
Ignorance
Is creeping up on me!
Coz I wanna
Yeah I wanna happy!
But I wanna
Oh he wants to be clever
To gain some knowledge
What a pointless endeavour!
I need to ditch you coz I wanna be smart
Well we'll just have to split apart! - Track Name: Conjunctivitis
-
You think you're stuck together.
You believe that no one else will ever want you.
Not you.
You put up with that man,
you argue, then you try to say there's something in your eye.
But what is it?
Your love is like conjunctivitis,
I think it's making you blind
to the sticky situation you're in -
don't get too close to that slime!
Eyedrops rolling down your cheeky cheeks,
Blurry eyes for weeks and weeks.
The infection spreads from eye to eye. (Oh my oh my!)
It stings so much you cry and cry and...
Cry
You thought to leave him but you're just to insecure girl.
There's a treatment so there's no need to endure him.
No need for more of him.
You can leave that man,
you've got the tools woman.
Don't rub your eyes in disbelief!
Woman you can leave that man.
Your love is like conjunctivitis,
I think it's making you blind
to the sticky situation you're in -
don't get too close to that slime!
Eyedrops rolling down your cheeky cheeks,
Blurry eyes for weeks and weeks.
The infection spreads from eye to eye (oh my oh my!)
It stings so much you cry and cry and...
Cry
Your love is like conjunctivitis,
I think it's making you blind
to the sticky situation you're in -
don't get too close to that slime!
Eyedrops rolling down your cheeky cheeks,
Blurry eyes for weeks and weeks.
The infection spreads from eye to eye (oh my oh my!)
It stings so much you cry and cry and...
Cry - Track Name: A Letter To Russia
-
Hey Mr Andropov
I have been thinking of
your new job.
The Russians are worrying,
there's nuclear scuffling,
Sob Sob Sob.
Secretary Andropov
What have you been thinking of
to sort out this tiff?
Peace and tranquility,
Yours with sincerity,
Sammy Smith x
Twinkle twinkle ball of flame,
Send one back from whence it came.
We've got bombs, we've got planes
- grown up toys for grown up games.
Thanks for your letter Sam,
It's not the first one man.
Here is my honest reply.
We don't like war much here,
Lenin made that clear so
don't be too scared of the sky!
Soviet people don't like war
(We've been there before 40 years ago!)
We won with some help from you
but now we are a part of the nuclear crew.
Sammy...Sammy...Know the Truth
Come to Artek meet our youth.
Twinkle twinkle ball of flame,
Send one back from whence it came.
We've got bombs, we've got planes
- grown up toys for grown up games.
We lost this cub to a doomed plane
It crashed down in a field in Maine.
