1949 - 2025
Former Musician/singer/songwriter; independent author/editor.
https://davidaharley.substack.com - biographical information at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Harley is largely accurate.
A second song for which Alan Doyle provided a tune and added some words. :) I think this will probably have a fairly synth-y feel when I’ve learned it properly, but while it obviously needs polishing, this will be the basic shape.
By Alan Doyle and David Harley
Backup:
The puppet master has turned his back
On the farewell appearance of the men in black
But he can’t stop thinking ’bout the shape he’s in
Heavy water seeping through his skin
Input/output all of the time There’s only white noise out there on the line
He’s got the moves, but he’s worn so thin
He tried to be polite, but they cut his strings
His voice is rusty and his chords are crude
His fingers are raw and his head is screwed
Input/output all of the time There’s only white noise out there on the line
White noise [white noise] in the air
White noise [white noise] everywhere
White noise [white noise] all around
White noise [white noise] the only sound
His skin is crawling, his resistance is low
There’s an overload building with nowhere to go
The feedback generates so much heat
He’s got to boost his signal out in the street
Input/output all of the time There’s only white noise out there on the line
This is a collaboration with Alan Doyle, who wrote the tune and tweaked my lyrics. :)
I’m planning to include a cleaner (I mean better recorded, not less obscene!) version of this on a forthcoming album called ‘Kitsch and Canoodle’, but this is probably most of the way there.
(backup)
Two lost souls living in a bedsit
Lying there back to back
She’s close to weeping, he pretends he’s sleeping
But he’s wondering what to pack
Someone needs to say ‘sorry’
But it seems that it won’t be him
They want to be happy, but they’d rather be right
So the chances of that are slim
Sometimes it’s OK just to let it all go And it really doesn’t matter who’s right Sometimes it’s OK just to let it all go And it really doesn’t matter who’s right
Two lost souls standing by the bus stop
Neither finding words to say
He’s packed up his troubles in his old rucksack
But no one’s smiling today
Someone needs to say ‘sorry’
But neither seems to want to know
They want to be happy, but they’d rather be right
Instead of flattening the bumps in the road
Sometimes it’s OK just to let it all go And it really doesn’t matter who’s right Sometimes it’s OK just to let it all go And it really doesn’t matter who’s right
Two old dears standing in the bus queue
Neither has a lot to say
He’s got the shopping and she’s got his arm
So it must have worked out OK
And they’ve learned to live with each other’s quirks and crotchets
And the angry words that quickly lose their bite
They wanted to be happy, and they want to be right
But they’ve learned to put the past behind
Sometimes it’s OK just to let it all go And it really doesn’t matter who’s right Sometimes it’s OK just to let it all go And it really doesn’t matter who’s right
It really doesn’t matter who’s right
Yes, I know it’s not a good sales strategy to put out so many albums so close together, but I’m trying to get this stuff out there, and not really expecting to make my fortune at this time of my life.
All music by David A. Harley. The author of the 18th century lyric to ‘They Hang The Man’ is unknown, and the words to ‘Nowhere to Nowhere’ were written by Alison Pittaway. Piano on ‘London 1983’ by James Bolam. All vocals and other instruments by David A. Harley.
And here’s the track ‘For Phil Ochs’ which is in a way the foundation stone of the album:
Anyway, here are what would be the sleeve notes if I was releasing it as a physical album.
I suppose you could say that all songs are ‘social comment’ – I don’t care for the term ‘protest’ since I associate it with the 1960s phenomenon of well-fed pop singers whining about plastic people and how awful everything is – but I’ve always leaned towards songs that weren’t exclusively about ‘my girl friend left me’.. Still, I never felt I had to distinguish between ‘love songs’ – perhaps we should say songs about people and their relationships – and songs with a wider topical resonance. If a song demands to be written, I don’t take no notice because it’s in the ‘wrong’ genre or context.
Still, I had some difficulty in placing a couple of the songs in this collection because they’re ‘folkier’ – OK, acapella – than most of my output. So I finally went for an album of songs that fit together because they’re more about social comment and less about personal relationships (fictional and otherwise). That doesn’t, of course, mean they don’t fit into other contexts. Some have already been released on other albums, and others are likely to be in the future.
The album’s title comes from a poem by Kipling, though his conclusion in that poem, and indeed his politics in general, often diverge from my own convictions. On the other hand, I think he would have agreed with the relationship between iron as a foundation of weaponry and iron as a symbol or element of the supernatural.
Gold is for the mistress — silver for the maid — Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.
“Good!” said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
“But Iron — Cold Iron — is master of them all.”
David Harley Words & Music 
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