Live at Cafe Kino

by Tiger & Panda & Ox & Otter

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1.
13:47
2.
11:12

about

The night this record was made was something special. One of those times that you get so rarely in life when you can't think of anywhere you'd rather be or anything you'd rather be doing. The atmosphere in the basement of Cafe Kino was cosy and warm (thanks to the large crowd mostly -it had been freezing during setup), and it felt like the whole room was willing the performers to do well.

Henry Ireland and Olly Watson have been my friends for a long time and I am extremely lucky that this is the case. From the outset of this record, you get a taste of what their music is about -at once intensely personally revealing and incredibly shy. The way Henry introduces the concept of the evening and then instantly rubbishes it reflects their style of serious ideas and high concepts refracted through a prism of “let's not take this too seriously, eh?”. Their music is always both serious, but in its own way, not some poe-faced reallyfuckingartisticactually way that often comes out of the independent music scene.

I recorded the performance in a pretty simple way: 2 large diaphragm condensers in a mid-side stereo pattern. This works by combining the signal of one mic in cardioid pattern facing the front and another in figure of 8 pattern facing both sides. You double up the figure of 8 signal and invert the phase of one of those. Through magic I don't understand, this creates a nice, wide stereo field with a strong centre. I also had a boundary microphone on the back wall of the room to add extra detail (this comes into its own in the noisier parts of the show, when it really picks up the delay repeated keyboard bass notes), and took a direct out from the mixing desk to give me a clean vocal signal. The direct out is what means we can actually hear the boys' lyrics, and is the reason I had a tear in my eye at the end of the show, having been one of the only people in the room who heard exactly what Henry was saying in the midst of the music.

I am immensely proud to have been a part of this and I hope that I am allowed to record many more Tiger and Panda records in the future.

-Phil Dodd

This recording was made on the 28th of April 2012 in the basement of Cafe Kino, Bristol, England as part of ‘A Year With Henry Ireland’, a year-long artist residency. It was ‘mid-side’ recorded by Phil Dodd onto four-track cassette.

you can learn more about the evening here: elan-zine.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/this-photo-may-have-been-taken-by-phil.html

credits

released November 16, 2013

recorded by Phil Dodd

Steve Brett: clarinet, piano, dulcimer
David Burke: guitar
Henry Ireland: guitar, keyboard, words
Olly Watson: guitar, keyboard, words

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about

polite records UK

polite records was founded in 2005. It is not an example of the best of anything. it is just a catalogue of the projects of, or connected with, the three people who run it: phil dodd, henry ireland and olly watson. if you are looking for a label, we suggest that you start your own. it is easy and you can get in touch and ask us for tips if you want. ... more

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Track Name: part one
Well I can’t see the stars
because the pollution is quite bad
but I reckon they’re probably shining.
And I guess it’s pretty funny.
I guess it’s pretty sad.
I reckon I probably should of
said sorry if I had.
The nettles I used to know were here
that were my stick’s enemy
have gone away again.
So I guess we’d have to walk to find
a clearer patch of air.

It was a dull cold day.
The countryside was kind of grey.
we sat in the back seat
and we headed up the motorway.
And the sea will make mincemeat
out of you and me.
We struggle each day to the shore.
We are swept each day from our feet.
So we took a seat
and sirens came and filled up the street.
You made a few phone calls
and me and Frances made some tea.
And the sea will make mincemeat
out of you and me.
We struggle each day to the shore.
We are swept each day from our feet.
Time moves on.
The owners of this house are gone.
We packed it up,
we took it and we moved it on.
And the sea will make mincemeat
out of you and me.
We struggle each day to the shore.
We are swept each day from out feet.

Joggers in the rain over brick-built bridges
It used to be bad here,
now it is tame
and slowly creaking into the new phase.
There’s a place for you here.
Mournful mouth organ and mournful church organ
are swelling the wind.
Autumn leaves swept up into bin-bags.
Rough sleepers moved along.
There’s a place for you here.
Lines of old houses now for sale
are filling with torrential kisses and tears.
They’re dampening the walls and filling in the cracks
of those that lived here before.
There’s a place for you here.
Track Name: part two
Throw that ring down a well.
It was a cheap one after all.
You were the no-good boy.
You were the respectable girl.
Long adventures in the car.
Fill the house with furniture.
Books do furnish a room.
Fill this house up with children.
Walk once more around the block.
Like two hands around a clock.
Two hands holding tightly
in your long coats with your black dog.
Not how you wanted it to end.
In the hospital again.
You were the no-good boy.
Now the keeper of the respectable girl.

You grazed your knee and now you’re feeling it.
Always the itch that begins the heal.
Your head is out of the sea now.
Slowly released from a torrent of mess.
You’re making something beautiful while everything burns down.
Kiss me quick, there’s no time to lose.
We both escaped a feral youth
so we can be safe companion.
Let’s walk now, there’s work to do.
Like making something beautiful while everything burns down.
Tradewinds are rolling in
and they start to salt your skin
but the day marks on the coast
are the people that will set you right.
They’ll make you something beautiful while everything burns down.

As I look at the view
out of the window
past the box that contains
what remains of you,
our faces are all aglow
with the residual light
that you left behind
and the hills behind the grounds
peek now and then
through a mourning veil of mist
And you walk home arm in arm.
In your long coats.
With your black dog.
And did I tell you I saw you once.
From a bus.
Walking past the supermarket?
Regular as a clock
now stopped.
The Grandfather clock in your living room
in the house that will be empty soon.
Long enough ago I know
that house lost the most important thing to you.