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by B R OAD WAY / Angil

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Names 07:27
The troops start walking Into the camp Shouts and whispers Curly sideburns Slowly stirred By the desert breeze The scenes are just Unbearable The troops walk back And ladies sigh Still protesting residents Keep screaming What’s so holy about prefabs ? Step 1 : Send in the army Step 2 : Bring out your dead Step 3 : Increase profit margins Step 4 : Supply AND demand 2070 : The lights go out all over America 2005 : The world reaches all-time oil-production peak 1970 : The US passes its own oil-peak The suicide of whales, pigeons and monkeys are mere instinctive ways to the survival of their species. Our treading on ourselves and fellow co-habitants are mere instinctive ways to the suicide of our species Names, Names, Names And on the morrow, the world had become a gigantic open air sewer, and people had turned into rats, crawling all over, feeding on plastic bags, inexorably adapting home made nuclear waste radiations. They will rub your face with a paw moistened with saliva And you’ll get the feeling your cheeks were totally drenched An interesting theory but it STILL WON’T WASH Out of oil, out of mind
Cobwebby coaxial and cock-eyed cockroaches coagulate into cobalt-coloured coca-cola cocktails. We enhance ourselves to self mind ennoblement engrained with the entertaining idea of encyclopaedic enlightenment. My method: no method, spasms of forced creativity. We coexist, we coincide, we collaborate, we collect dust. We corrupt our respective visions and original frames of mind. We coerce ourselves into self-restriction and constant disguise. We coarsen as years go by like a coin-operated co-operation. Words that weren’t worth it. Worlds with working worms. Worst Wordsworth worship ever. Fumes were in their hat-chests, so high.
Itching, oozing, crusted lesions, extreme depression, hypochondria. Imaginary physical ailments, fucking nouns, chronic diseases. Bits and pieces or pits and blisses or slips and tips or clicks and x’s or sticks and flexes or Schmidt’s plexus or winks and sexes or clinks and ex’s or “Such and Such” ’s or Yeah’s and Gotcha’s or Tic-Tacs and E’s or not. Confusion, Commotion, Agitation. Turmoil. Unrest. Uneasiness. Unknown origin. Turmoil. I remember two of my neighbours were very close friends, on the very same day one of them died, the other’s temples suddenly went grey, 10 years had past overnight, within the course of a few hours, the twinkling of an eye remember two of my neighbours were very close friends…
Stein Waltz 04:55
Nominalism’s the new black which also means it’s so last year. Felones de se’s by essence per se therefore forbidden. I think we should get the night rain get the night train there’s no light reign re-enact strange Let’s specify : specs and sci-fi or sex and hi-fi We probably could split the tasks but Hey! Shall we or shall we not chew it / poisoned candies / corroded lollies How about beating around the bush? Why don’t we fall in love? Just kiddin’ Why not interweave the threads that DON’T look the same? It’s better if we get lost in the meaning before the alarm goes off. What we should do is do it so it does its share of the soothing. I guess we might as well You reckon we may consider Bacon as way too reckless an icon STEIN ! Sui-super-cide one too many time one two may collide onto neighing smiles Time is running out let’s fall out and smile till the lips divide who cares what the heck spectators decide What an idea I leave by thee on high heels with mighty silver lining I’ve got hundreds of them idealistic friends arguing over it all Unexposed but brilliant as hell Illustrated in the darkest hour Disadvantaged but oh so clever Spontaneous to the slightest detail Positive, yeah? Like huge in the headlights and everything? Creation, hug, hug, like biggest best-seller ever? Yeah, right. What you thought hops. Bam! Food for thought. Fresh & new. Is that what you want? Is what you thought blank? She said brewed coffee He says we’re all slowly fading out I said nothing elegant You say “Please take out the garbage.” She said a long dress He says clothes codes rip off our real identity I said page 10 You say “Satellite of Jupiter in two letters…” She said write a song He says have you ever really been yourself I said piece a’ cake You say “Let’s go crazy and run in the rain!” She said red stamp He says we always push the limit but it never moves I said no blue coat You say “Do you like my new dress?” Dirt and copper Colours and shades. Shore rocks and waves. Quote and not unquote The softer the curve, the longer the distance. CIA world facts There is no Israel Nationality UNIQUE IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND! World Oil Peak Has Now Been Reached. Experts to announce true facts about the beginning of the end.
Some names sound better than others (hence) Nigel Kennedy’s suck-cess (hence) Prefab Sprout’s failure What extra mile? John Venture is Jerry Myad’s father Jerry Myad is Lars Eny’s boss Lars Eny killed Faith Lesshart Faith Lesshart was John Venture’s sister Oh Crap What extra mile?
Old Europe 06:22
Joseph’s my name. My second name actually. After my grand-grand-father. Jesus’s just a friend. Quite lunatic and unreliable I must admit. But you know. Fucking British style. I’m the last of the International Top-Class Lovers. Not getting any younger, mind. Sucks. Would you like more champagne? Old Europe, my friend. I had the weirdest dream where you fell in the arms of America. Percussion, like bleeding hearts, splashing the faces and glittering down back to the earth. We want information not solid ground for the next candidate. Unbelieva-fucking-ble Un-fucking-believable Unbe-fucking-lievable Fucking unbelievable Ab-fucking-solutely Abso-fucking-lutely Absolute-fucking-ly Absolutely fucking
I thought I’d just write a couple of lines Not to over use your time But ten it all got weirder as the… [Jah’Zz gagne contre le Werder de Brême, J’ai un flash, Je brode des anges sur les fesses de Kim Gordon et je brûle ta crème !] (Night shift day shift Night shift day) I thought I’d make a real choice to make things better Not to get too old trying to forget As the saying goes “You never get enough of the… [Et non, homies, J’ai des noms pour mon snuff movie !] (Night shift day shift Night shift day) It really wasn’t my fault, I swear on all I’ve got It’s just that sometimes the pressures is too high And even if you try your best you… [La peste sur toi, baston primaire, il y a, Mon bastion, primal fear, see ya !] (Night shift day shift Night shift day) This heart, I found it, I didn’t steal it, I swear Now someone must be looking for it, got to bring it back You must set me free, please, got to give it back, , got to give it back (Night shift day shift Night shift day) Lamb. Door. Ground. Bed. Feet. Lamb. Door. Ground. Bed. Feet. Lamb. Door. Ground. Bed. Feet. Lamb. (Night shift day shift Night shift day) I condemn you to be free I sentence you to a good life I judge you innocent I compel you to happiness I confess my good deeds I order you to use your free will I strike you with amazement I prove you right I hit you with surprise [Wild acier, gratuit style, Can I kick an ultramagnetic Black Elvis lost in space?] Yes, you can! [Fils, j’ai tellement d’automatiques lyrics, Que en vrai, frère, On dirait que je suis un métis de Damo Suzuki et de Kool Keith, Damn ! Sûr que c’est le souk dans mon esprit, Mes rushs de Kubrick sont et restent allaités par des rouges kubis, Mes fauves se fourvoient quand je profite de mon unique profil, Et les eunuques prolifèrent dans des ennuyeuses farines, Degré zéro de cubisme, Damn ! C’est sûr que ce texte n’a pas inventé la pénicilline, Des poils de femelle pubis qui s’hérissent, Alors qu’il n’y a même pas de pénis qui s’y immisce, C’est comme si Je rêvais de donner des beignes à Céline, De mettre de la friture de beignets dans les merveilles d’Alice, Aligner des rimes sur Lewis Caroll, ou Aline, comme des orgues de Staline, Bref, c’est comme si Je peignais ces lignes, Avec du sang qui giclerait de mes canines, Ci-gisent mes neurones qui sont vraiment morts de famine, Heureux corps, j’y suis, j’y reste, C’est mon cerveau, mon caniveau, mon abîme !]
4 – 14 – 13 – 6 - 9 13 – 9 – 2 Have you ever realised how inflammable the world can sometimes be It’s the magic of Christmas, the night is set ablaze for all eyes to see So hearts can lose their temper and temples lose their dignity What if business chooses employees Who is your profiler What if the ambulance gets the accident What if the government is self-corrupted What if Jehovah didn’t witness a thing Approximate-turnover company Network : black Iceland : red Scratch cards companies Cell phone operators Fast food sellers The “No fucking way!” people Wacko blobbies Virus cleaners Virus makers Heart-of-the-sewer entertainers
Egg Music 05:29
There are tiny ships in honey. Mothers never lick pink pants. I dream about egg music and enormous language chains. Will urge dress as a friend? Those frantic apparatus could whisper “peach…”, please produce! I did use sordid chants, I do drive over places like void after a sweet Summer of stormy live shows. Will urge dress as a friend?… Fascinating sincere set-up-audienced hall of fame. The best conferences ever rehearsed in total shame. O clever me not to have thought of it before this day. Not to have foreseen the vital fatal tidal wave. Exhibiting the slightest and most intimate mistake. Your music makes me think of something too long to explain. What’s the point? There’s no point, worshippers lie anyway. Will your delicate stare put death out of use any day? Real urge dressed as a friend.




released October 4, 2006



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B R OAD WAY Saint Etienne, France

REVOLUTION, ce terme ainsi intégré au nom de leur nouvel album, prend tout son sens : B R OAD WAY est sorti de l'ombre, et embrasse la lumière de ce nouveau jour.
Ils nous imposent un disque pop, prenant le large et devenant apatride. Le schéma musical de la pop peut passer la nuit avec la construction moderne de l'empilage, et nous laisser rêveur.
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