"..may just be
making the most important sound of 2002. An
enchanting patchwork of ethereal harmony, unabashed gothic melody, and
a cerebral songwriting swagger, 'The Ironman' is simply stunning. A
thoroughly unique work of art from start to finish, a casual aural
menace captivates Jordan Reyne's vocals that little bit further.
Whether by hook or crook, you MUST own this album. RATING - 5 / 5". Channel
4 (UK)
"Sculpting samples
into dark & disquieting images - The closest
thing we have to a local Trent Reznor". The NZ Listener.
"The most innovative, emotive and experimental music ever to come out
of New Zealand". Salient Magazine (Victoria University)
personell - the ironman
Programming,
Arrangements & Vocals by Jordan Reyne.
Guitars (Tracks 6 & 10) Barnowl Dromgool. Bass: Jazz Murphy.
Other Guitars: Jordan Reyne. Drums (Live) Written by Rikki Cooch.
Performed by Luke Casey. Additional Programming by Simon Holloway,
Joradn Reyne & Gareth Price. Production: Jazz Murphy, Simon
Holloway & Joradn Reyne. Executive Producer: Rob McDermott.
*Track 7 Cellos Simon & Gareth. Photography: Jordan Reyne. All
Songs Copyright DDV Laboratories 2000 Written & Programmed at
DDV Laboratories. Recorded at Beaver and Helen Young Studios. Mixed
& Mastered at Beaver Studios. Made possible by The Arts Council
of New Zealand (Creative
New Zealand). Available for sale through SOUNZ (www.sounz.org) New
Zealand
lyrics - the ironman
The
Washing Machine Song
This
is a story about a girl
who
attempts to defy a series
of
"scientific"
understandings
which to all but trained professionals
seem like
something everybody knows.
The
watching eyes and open mouths and
open ears say:
All
the worlds a stage - take a bow.
So
what do we expect?
We see: someone
walking forward
slowly
but indefinitely towards
something incomprehensible,
not
understandable,
illogical
or just harder.
maybe just harder
Gotham City
She
is the wind cooled down - all the
way cold.
Blue
is the blood of power. Black are the dusted bones.
and I
would've fallen for her, she is
dispairs cold flower.
Pulled
at the strings above her - run with lust of power.
She
is deaths ice charm , lonelinesses
slow song.
She
is the watchers eye to her own requiem:
And I
would've fallen for her - she is
the hangmans moon.
White
is the face that draws us - black is the edge of ruin.
The Factory
Here
in the steel-mill we are forming
farming
the templates of facade.
Barbed
and explicit, they are anchors
weighing
the measure of the stars.
Spitting
the sparks of ultimatum
turning
the wheel like a blade
calling
the ironman and his daughter
lie
in the maiden that we've made.
cos
they are and they are and they are
walk
on the ladder when you've paid
Measurement
Sunset
= CMYK
high
tide is the pull
of
the moons gravity.
Birdsong
= key: harmonic minor
outgrowth
is the product
of
air over water
Death
is a lost competition
(and
pitiful)
My
hate and my love
is
chemical.
Part II
So
what if I'm bored
and
ordinary?
With
mysteries' hands
you
tear the winter
I
miss the strange skies
and
broken weather
In
strong enough arms
the
carriers are leaving
and
rain will fall
with
silence waiting.
The Sentence
Here
in the coolroom -well you: you
wont,
lie
to the stone cold - and you: you wont,
fold
with the air -and you: you wont,
walk
with the dead -and you: you wont,
Talk.
Lie
in the bed, boy - and you: you wont,
bleed
like a martyr child - and you: you wont,
sing
with breeze - and you: you wont,
call
to the hail light - and you: you wont,
Talk
Cold
in the dim shade - you: you wont,
stretch
to the sunlight - and you: you wont
Talk
The Trend
The
golden child smiles discontinued
dreams
with
words that flow too easily to hear.
The
swimmers dive and try to catch the waves -
their
laughter flows like honey coated razor blades.
And
she is just some little girl who
likes to pick the flowers
and
show them how to make the grade
She
rides the crest of manufactured waves and says that
she's
become what she herself has made:
And
someone used to say the tide would
turn.
And
when it does, be where you want to be.
The
winds of change blow singing with her tears :
and
pulled her out and drowned her instead of me
I am
higher, I am higher.
Holier
than you
Holier.
