Anodyne (EP)

by Alexander Dove

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Drink 02:30
Let's get fucked up on so much shit that we won't know a pun from wit. Drink or be drunk, lose or be lost. Am I a service or the cost? And do I have a prayer worth praying? Buy all the liquor we can afford; scrape out my insides like a gourd. Don't take my keys or call a cab; don't want to live to see my tab— cause I don't have a debt worth paying. What do you mean, I'm repressing it? I spent two verses confessing it. How much do I have to shout of it? My head's had my heart ripped out of it. So bad did she bruise and batter me I don't know my own anatomy. I'm giving up on triple rhyme. Pour me a cup of liquid grime. Bring me a bandage and my bail; bring her a feather and a scale, and see if I have a heart worth weighing.
There There 02:50
Your glowing glance went through me like a burning lance of snow; I was looking in your brown eyes for salvation. For your eyes reflected sunset, and I thought that in their glow I could reach out to the flame of revelation. And what then did I seek beneath the whirlwind of your hair? The end of all hatred and care. There, there. I chased you from the sunset to the first red wound of dawn and your hair hung down behind you like a shackle, but the dawn's first darting rays betray each doe to be a fawn, and before its bloody gaze I am a jackal. And what then did I find beneath the whirlwind of your hair? The secret design of despair. There, there. I stagger and I stumble groping upward on the ice, merely waiting for the sunrise to undo me, and I spread my arms embracing in a bootless sacrifice, knowing nothing in creation would renew me. And what now do I see beneath the whirlwind of your hair? A burn that no balm can repair. There, there, there.
Now I've worn out my welcome, so I'll head down the track, but I will sure as hell come if you call me back. You say I shouldn'a kissed her when she came to visit, but if she's your twin sister well, how different is it? How different is it? I guess it's sort of sappy, but how is it malign? I thought you might be happy that her child was mine. Now why you seem so offended, to me just isn't too clear; who minds if our extended family is nuclear? Nuclear. Now I've worn out my welcome, so I'll head down the track, but I will sure as hell come if you call me back, call me back, call me back (etc)
Trading frankincense for gold, trading self for self, you find nothing but an endless grind, nothing but an endless cold. While you barter fear for fear, dividing joys among yourselves, hymnals left to die on shelves sing music that the dead can hear. Voices gibber as the noose drains the air from songless lungs, while the never-silent tongues shrivel up from lack of use. There upon a yellow page bound by an unbroken spine lurks the longed-for anodyne that has the power to assuage, the music that can bring the soul from its hidden place to bind, with the body and the mind, into an unbroken whole.
Poison Tree 02:32
I seemed true when my heart was new and she only knew what she knew to know; she seemed to assuage what she could not gauge for I hid my rage and my rage did grow. I sat weaving a cloak of deceiving and under it leaving the most of me; can you cover what time can't smother? I grew my lover a poison tree. Through the years I distilled my fears and I poured my tears on its twisted root like a river, that I could give her a single sliver of withered fruit. Since I buried her heart I've carried the fruit that married me to her death, and I cannot buy a relieving lie for my every sigh is her dying breath. Take this heart of stone, loveless and alone— give me one of flesh; let me not be as chaff at the threshing time. I sit clothing my bones in loathing so I feel nothing of rightful pain, and how soon error outweighs its wearer! I wait in terror and bear the chain. But now discerning a feeble yearning for somehow earning what can't be earned, though my heart is cold I would give my gold if what once I sold could be returned. Take this heart of stone, loveless and alone— give me one of flesh; let me not be as chaff at the threshing time. Break this heart of stone like a dried out bone— clothe my ribs in flesh; let me not be as chaff at the threshing time. Take me for Thine own, alone to the Alone, spirit cleansed of sin, me divine into Thy Divinity.


This is a set of five songs, combining my previous acoustic guitar-driven singer-songwriter style with the 8-bit music I've been playing around with for the past six months. There were moments when I thought it would end up being the worst of both worlds, but I think in the end it's more or less the best.
"Anodyne" means a painkiller. The five songs are about people's different, complex responses to painful and difficult situations. The five characters are all different, but I gave them fairly similar implied situations to create a kind of continuity.
As for why I would clothe these serious and grim topics in such brazenly silly music, all I can say is this: in life, there are occasionally times to be 100% deadly serious. But I think they're extremely rare. Think of the Nintendo noises as sugar to make the medicine palatable.
If you enjoy this music, please download it, consider a donation, and link to this page on your Facebook! You may also download the individual songs separately if you only like one or two.


released June 2, 2011

Music and lyrics by Alexander Dove.
Performed, recorded and mixed by the same.
Cover art by David Andersson.




Alexander Dove Chicago, Illinois

Alexander Dove is a songwriter, poet, and composer, who also plays in the traditional Celtic folk group Dòrain. Alexander Dove is used for more-or-less solo or self-directed work, regardless of genre. Published writings are under the name Alexander Dove Lempke. ... more

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