CradleRock

by Craig Johnstone

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1.
When will the break be Wonder where and why I do But sorry I'm a know-not in deeds undo This know I true and argue yes it seems being Is a be you do Action is when still quits stopping Know that and told them they will say I did or not But matter doesn't be if not it is you see so stick it up a tree Words as these thought I true and not un-so Even mean less than true could be imagined more so Good is it whether known or known to yet be Mattered maybe not or so let's all get in a boat and row Holy sheep shears lookit over here There's a flute in my gumboot I'm checkin' if it squeaks Well the boot does the flute just leaks Get my gun I'm gonna plug it One thing I know yes no song sings Like a bell done dung well ding don't dong Til ya tug it by the thing hell I'll ding dang near any thing Don't say don't do do and I won't will How do you do how do I do what What a weird way to wonder O-whizzy-gee My dear Watson L-M-N-O-P
2.
The pleasure is instant and you've got time to burn The forest is full of gut-shot owls And still you will not learn Hansel and Gretel, barefoot thru the nettles Beautiful flowers have poisonous petals Pushin' peddle a little too close to metal Down you'd best settle Ass over tea kettle Wow. Lots of things rhyme with ettle.
3.
I can hardly contain my gratitude For all the wise little things people have said But I think it's time for some new platitudes Cause the old ones are just rotting in my head Light hands make many work Necessity is the invention of your mother Yesterday today was a new day Dish me out some new platitudes The old ones clearly didn't take I've got a bit of a shitty attitude And I'm wearin' thin trying to learn from my mistakes Time is the thief of procrastination The beginning of wisdom is to quit being an idiot The dawn is always darkest while you're sleeping The green is always grosser in your neighbor's nose If you can't say something nice, Say something cryptically sarcastic If at first you don't succeed, you're an immediate failure I feel restricted and I need a little latitude The straight and narrow makes my mind just wanna bend I'm way past due for some new platitudes Like, "If it ain't broke, break the sunuvabitch!"
4.
5.
6.
Ear Bastards 02:38
I like things that ding I like things that dong I like little noises that seldom come along I like the sound of things that Altho offensive and smelling strong How can it sound so right if it's so wrong? I'll flick a kick drum I'll kick somebody's tire I'll blow into a bottle hole, I'll pluck a tightened wire I'll hear a sound And I'll duplicate it I'll search the earth all over til I find the thing that made it A side of beef sounds good if you slap it Hell, do it a couple times Then crack them ribs in a 4/4 fashion and Cook it all up with a little red wine I heard that you were comin' And set a booby trap at the door Set to make a series of noises I swear you never heard b4 I'll tap on a bottle I'll scrape along a rusty spring I'll pound on a tanker truck I'll bang or clang on some damn thing
7.
His name was Willie, He was a fine goldfish Your every command was already his wish Willie laid by his dish, like a good fish. Willie was well-mannered, and had a great sense of humor And if you heard otherwise, I'm afraid you heard a rumor He was everybody's friend, right up until the end I found him floatin' like an inner tube, bullet wound to the head I knowed it wasn't suicide, but whooda wanted Willie dead? Confused frustration, I want a full investigation Well the obsession just grows, like an unreachable itch But I'll find who killed Willie, and kill the sunuvabitch I'll make the bastard wish he never shot my fish.
8.
Dark Safari 04:31
The girl in the garden said unto the rattlesnake Tell me once again of this mistake that I should make And a crow fled from the post of a pearly white gate And along came a thunder cloud, vast and black and great Come to consummate the world with it's brand new fate A man put on his hunter's eyes and cocked his old Nikon He was feeling cool and slippery like mercury on Teflon And the streets were new and time slowed down and everything was black and white And the sin was raging rampant as danger pushed the night And it's a faded, winding line that separates wrong from right.
9.
The Tea Room 03:31
Your table is ready, the candles are lit The tea, sir, is hot, and there's something special in it Will you be needing anything before I go? All the babies are crazy. Yes, sir, I know. The flowers are sulking and the walls are all tired The table is slanted, and ought to be fired! The cutlery is blinding me with it's gleam In a back room I hear a slave girl scream Bring me a pan flute and a damsel to play it Bring me a prayer, and an angel to pray it Thru the door I ran screaming, was but one dream I had In a series of thousands-- All of them bad! I slayed a white bunny and indulged in a haunch I crawled thru the smoke and the dank, pungent raunch A familiar young soldier pulled me from the scene And I was back with my teacup, where I first had been So I paid the check and I left quite a handsome tip I bid a good day, and said, "Thanks for the trip" (then I tripped).
10.
You work all day, getcher head above water Take a long deep breath, and it's back to the bottom You give a wink and a grin and you smoke 'em if ya got 'em My ring holds no promise, my mission knows no bottom And them bad ole days, well I simply forgot 'em I tip my hat to the past and I smoke 'em if I got 'em Faith is a fountain in the sky You can't fall off a mountain if you try Burn the baggage, love the bitch Find the power, flick the switch Do you deny the prophecies, or have you just forgot 'em? Hear the thunder start to rumble as the springtime turns to autumn Get ready cause He's comin' back, or just smoke 'em if ya got 'em Faith is a fountain in the sky You can't fall off a mountain if you try Burn the burden, grab a hope Drop the hammer, cut the rope
11.
Open 02:15
Open doors, open soars I'll open mine if you open yours Open presents, open baskets Open arms and open caskets Better shut some stuff but I don't know how I was born in a barn but I ain't no cow. Openly hopin' me rope isn't broken Usin' and losin' and oozin' and gropin' Open seating in open meetings Open receivings of drive-by beatings Better shut some stuff but I don't know how I was born in a barn but I ain't no cow. Openly broken and jokingly hopin' To shock her eyes and talk her wise open blinds, open minds Open shutters of varying kinds Flappin' rackets, open jackets Rack 'em, Jacko Kerouac. Better shut some stuff but I don't know how I was born in a barn but I ain't no cow.
12.
Songvomit 01:42
Doddlin' Todd needs a throttle but he thinks All he needs is a bottle and some weed Well I've got a lot of that in my hat and up my sleeve But sorry it's for me, dude, and a friend whose mood I blew'd. Alice Cooper's nightmare makes me wanna sleep Coz my own nightmares are only 3 dreams deep Welcome to the breakdown, I was here first These keyhole kaleidoscope vision trips Give me a booze thirst Hey Jack I can rap and you can't take it But if you do put it back, jungle-vine swinger Singin' on a porch thing, sing don't talk Papa was a rollin' rock, weird wonders weave and slither Intertwining here and thither through the reaches of a head-vessel's tea party warm nestle Hey, Russel-named limey ear-fucked tooth-monster Ponsy constant pop tart, his beer on a tea saucer I know, here we go, dainty bleedin' weirdo About to say "Cheer-i-o", Mr. bite not Bark a lot, pass the cricket bat chaps, We'll get him in the parkin' lot Shave my sound right down up and downtown with it Until it's renowned, what's that sound my microphone head it loves to hear the brown sound Scatterin' the shades all around the wall Move 'em around and let the useless ones fall There's a storm in here I think I need to calm it 80 proof puke-loosener, bomb it all with songvomit Please I pleaded on my knees I plead until it bled, in fact I plead until my plea cracked, in fact it cracked in half, alas Like glass and then I peed upon it.
13.
What I Want 05:27
I want someone with a secret smile that only I have seen That tells me periodically it's all a pleasant dream I don't want desires binding me I don't wanna be a winner I just wanna learn to hate the sin And not to hate the sinner I wanna write an anthem and sing it strong and cold I wanna tell true stories that never have been told I want everyone suddenly drumming I want drive in the tribe I wanna die in victory And I want to be forever alive I want faith like a fountain to follow footsteps on the sea I wanna jump from buddhist mountains and have 'em all watch Jesus catch me I wanna be impervious to evil's hissing taunts I want love to find my enemies I want what Jesus wants
14.
I fell off a really tall bandwagon Glad to say I'm still alive In the mighty clutches of a really small dragon He's only twelve-foot-five I slayed the bastard with a side of beef And just before he fell He gave me sort of a scaly old dragon-like grin And said, "Well, well, well". It's raining it's pouring Dogs and cats and farm animals Ever had a goat fall on ya? Squishy. I went looking for a job But there were none to be seen So I moved away from the window And into a stormy old dream: I ran a hundred miles an hour In circles 'round the ship Jumpin' and divin' and flippin' and flyin' Then I tripped on a paper clip. I hope I don't die alone out here Coz death they say is really awful I wanna be cremated, tho Coz it smells like Eggo waffles. I've read The Guide to the Gods And Plumbing For Dummies Talked to scholars and sages & spent my life's wages Sailing around, searching for knowledge But I'm still just as dumb as a sackful Of hammers. Praise the Lord!

about

Smart and gritty songs, often bizarre and darkly humorous.

"When I first encountered Craig’s music it was via the refreshingly raw, honest and self-deprecating country-punk meets frantic folk collision of last years We Humans album. And if within that wonderfully raw musical landscape of satire and sympathy, profanity and profundity the spirit of such mercurial artists as Tom Waits, Frank Zappa and the much overlooked Bob Log III lurked in the corners, here they act as a spiritual steering group.



And in the same way that Craig previously deconstructed, twisted, wilfully broke and then reassembled country music into stark new shapes, here he does the same job of stripping down and retuning any number of other genres from folk to country to indie and from rock to blues to pop and everything in between. If lazy journalists, like me, revel in our labels and pigeon-holes, Cradlerock will prove to be our undoing, existing in a place either way beyond generic borders, or perhaps where they all collide and destroy each other - I haven’t quite worked out which yet - and putting it into adequate words is often tough.

Holisticism will tell you that you can start anywhere and it will lead you to the right conclusion, so let’s start with the fact that there is a strange synchronicity at work from time to time, especially with the inclusion of the antique standard Big Rock Candy Mountain, a hobo’s dream of paradise which the character Rudy sings in William Kennedy’s depression era classic novel Ironweed. In the film that character is played by none other than Tom Waits! Coincidence? Well, probably but interesting none the less.

Interesting because it is the Waitsian pulse more than any other, which beats at the heart of this madcap musical adventure. There is the same feeling of being at a ramshackle apocalyptic carnival surrounded by circus freaks and tents filled with warped mirrors. There is also a strange sense of musical hall nostalgia, like the orchestra pit of an otherworldly theatrical show that seems to exist in a strange dimension where Clive Barker meets The Muppet show.

The music seems to serve as a sort of sonic Rorschach test, the industrial grind of Ear Bastards making me see car plants, the skittering sounds of The Tea Room conjuring bugs on a night light. You have a go…it’s fun. There are times when Craig is happy to sail better-charted waters and the brilliantly named Smoakumifyagottam is a raw, garage rock rabble-rouser that could have easily found its way on to a Gun Club or Bad Seeds album. Mainly, however, he likes to subvert expectation and it is this arch-eclecticism, which holds everything together.

You put one weird song on a conventional album and it is a gimmick. Two such songs and you reveal yourself as having had a short inspirational flash but then nothing to follow it up. A fifty-fifty split of convention and conviction shows schizophrenia in the song writing process. A whole album of songs that wander such uncompromising pathways with only fleeting contact with the tried and tested approach to form and function and you know that the artist in question is doing something outstandingly original. And CradleRock is nothing if not outstandingly original….not to mention humorous, self-deprecating, weird, brilliant, disarming, raw, honest, satirical, mad and everything else that goes with the glorious territory of being a total outsider."
-Dave Franklin (Dancing About Architecture)

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released June 8, 2017

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Craig Johnstone Vancouver, British Columbia

Craig Johnstone is a passionate and dedicated artist/photographer and Indie singer/songwriter living in or near Vancouver, BC (Canada).
He began as a hard rock drummer, and developed a passion for songwriting and recording, and learned to play guitar.
Johnstone’s wonderfully unique Alternative Country Rock album "We Humans" is a cohesive, raw, gritty and enormously amusing collection of songs.
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