div><div>Recorded, mixed and mastered at Polarity Studio, Tokyo, Japan</div><div>Thanks to Ito Haruna, Metafilter Music and Dixie Wigs</div><div>Jacket by Polarity Design, photograph by Ito Haruna</div><div><br /></div><div>All words and music copyright P and C Samm Bennett / Polarity Records</div><div>All songs published by Directional Music (BMI)</div><div><br /></div><div>POLARITY PN524</div><div><br /></div><div>========================================================</div></div>Roomful of Ghosts Bennett: a brief bio, in his own words. <br /><br /. <br /><br /!<br /><br /.<br /><br /!Roomful of Ghosts Pronko's reviewTokyo-based writer and music scholar <a href="">Michael Pronko</a>'s <a href="">impressions</a> of Roomful of Ghosts, from <a href="">Jazz In Japan</a>:<br /><br /.<br /><br /.<br /><br /. <br /><br /. <br /><br /.Roomful of Ghosts Dery's observations on Roomful of GhostsAuthor, lecturer and cultural critic <a href="">Mark Dery</a> has just published his <a href="">ruminations</a> on Roomful of Ghosts on his blog <a href="">Shovelware</a>. And Dery's piece gets the Internet Bells and Whistles Award for being picked up by <a href="">BoingBoing</a>. Here's the review:<br /><br /.)<br /><br /><i</i><br /><br /><br /."<br /><br /.<br /><br /><i>the wolverine is ticklish of the cappuchin monks <br />dip it in your coffee babe</i><br /><br /.<br /><br /."<br /><br /><i>see that alligator head <br />i got it down in new orleans <br />it keeps smiling at me <br />as i sleepwalk through my scenes <br />that big old toothy grin <br />i think i know what it means <br />cause i used to ride that train <br />i used to ride that train</i><br /><br /.<br /><br /?<br /><br />One last try: Roomful of Ghosts is somehow like Robert Frank's cover for <i>Exile on Main Street</i> and somehow like <i>Wisconsin Death Trip</i> and somehow like <i>Brother Where Art Thou?</i> and somehow like nothing at all.<br /><br />Which is, of course, the whole point.Roomful of Ghosts's METROPOLIS magazineDan Grunebaum, writing for Tokyo's weekly English-language magazine Metropolis, has this to say about <i>Roomful of Ghosts:</i><br /><br /.<br /><br />Here's a <a href="">direct link to the original METROPOLIS page</a>.Roomful of Ghosts Thousand Rhymes You Kiss Me Wigs  Little Scared <div><br /></div>here comes a man with a red hot spike<br />stuck through his head<br />ain't it a wonder ain't it a wonder<br />a wonder he ain't dead<br /><br />i been to oklahoma, california, tennessee<br />but they all just watch the same things<br />the same things on tv<br /><br />people my baby takes good care of me<br />she gave me a black cat bone<br />she left me twenty years ago<br />but i've never been alone<br /><br /<br /><br />there's a dust storm down in bakersfield<br />and it's raining in duluth<br />but it's nice and sunny in timbuktu<br />i'm telling you the truth<br /><br />now people i'm gonna go kick my kick drum<br />gonna kick it a thousand times<br />then i'll take a word like orange<br />and give it a thousand rhymesRoomful of Ghosts To Ride That Traini used to ride that train<br /><div>from bologna up to amsterdam</div><div>used to take me two days to hitch hike</div><div>from boston down to birmingham</div><div>these days i just stay put</div><div>still i don't quite know where i am</div><div>but i used to ride that train</div><div>i used to ride that train<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>see that alligator head</div><div>i got it down in new orleans</div><div>it keeps smiling at me</div><div>as i sleepwalk through my scenes</div><div>that big old toothy grin</div><div>i think i know what it means</div><div>cause i used to ride that train</div><div>i used to ride that train<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>someone's trying to reach me</div><div>someone from my past</div><div>she sent some kind of message</div><div>she said she's free at last</div><div>but i don't need the trouble</div><div>just tie me to the mast</div><div>see i used to ride that train</div><div>i used to ride that train<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>i threw a rock in the pond</div><div>i'm not sure if it sank</div><div>never had a lot of interest</div><div>on my little bit of money in the bank</div><div>must be a reason i'm alive</div><div>right now i'm drawing a blank</div><div>but i used to ride that train</div><div>i used to ride that train<br /></div>Roomful of Ghosts Tangle Mingle Mangleslice up the lizard at midnight<br />put it up under your bed<br />give me some room to maneuver<br />make gestures in your head<br />pull off the honeybee's wings<br />glue them to the edge of town<br />mash up the crickets and the lemongrass<br />bring another bottle down <br /><br />tingle tangle mingle mangle<br /><br />the wolverine is ticklish<br / <br />of the cappuchin monks<br />throw it in the river babe<br /><br />tingle tangle mingle mangle<br /><br />i'll chew another leaf with the bullfrog<br />while you think of something clever to say<br />the raccoon's got a good mantra<br />but the mosquito's gonna carry the day<br />your butterfly might look pretty<br />but you know you can't have no fun with it<br />and there's a red ant stuck in the hourglass<br />so let's sever the snake and be done with it<br /><br />tingle tangle mingle mangleRoomful of Ghosts through ears still dreaming<br />seen through sleepwalk eyes<br />a luminescent ghost crawls across the bridge of sighs<br />the oily water shimmering betrays a frozen thought<br />and reveals that crucial moment that we missed<br />the silken lover spurned the broken stranger kissed<br /><br /> hear me mother hear me father <br /> i'm going way down deep beneath the water<br /><br />the grand canal is choked with drowning angels<br />the sun it spins a cold and icy blue<br />a silvery flock of pigeons in stop motion circles you<br />the oarsman guides his boat through winding waterways<br />past windows where ethereal shadows drift<br />a distant star collapses <br />and he feels the current shift <br /><br /> hear me mother hear me father <br /> i'm going way down deep beneath the water<br /><br />the generations strung through centuries<br />just like rosary beads<br />their names are chiseled in the tarnished brass<br />the smell of wet decay <br />wafting through the midnight mass<br />like an aria trapped in a tiny radio<br />like jesus tacked up to that cross of gold<br />we suffer in translation our true stories falsely told<br /><br /> hear me mother hear me father <br /> i'm going way down deep beneath the water<br /><br />and now you see my friend venezia is sinking<br />the perfect ending for the perfect dream <br />a city born again its promise now fulfilled <br />to the octopus, the sea horse and the bream<br />the right hand pens the verses<br />that the left hand soon erases<br />the rising waters reflect the shivering moonlight<br />that plays upon the carnival goers' faces<br /><br /> as they sing hear me mother hear me father <br /> i'm going way down deep beneath the waterRoomful of Ghosts Burned This Songi took out my little notebook<br />and my ball point pen