A long time ago, 1996 or so, I wanted to be Kate Bush fronting Marillion; a winning combination certain to win the hearts and minds of middle America. Unfortunately I had neither the voice of Kate Bush nor the enigmatic charm of Fish and so every project to which I brought this vision floundered for a bit, hemorrhaged drummers, and then died a slow, whiny death. I’ve gotten over that now. It took me almost 20 years but I have finally come to realize I cannot sing and perhaps more importantly, prog really is the fine china of the music world- it should only be used on special occasions under certain circumstances.
Despite all this, I believe I came closest to my dream in this song. Inspired by a binge of both watching and reading Dune, “Little Death” is performed by a short lived band tentatively named , Make Way for Ducklings. My poorly drawn husband is killing it on piano, and Glen Douglas plays lead guitar; I think Russel Pickett is on bass, but that may also be a midi controlled keyboard bass. The drums are programmed, because just like my vibrator, programmed drummers do exactly want I want them to do for exactly as long as I want them to do it, and don’t expect me to make a sandwich for them afterwards.
The video was filmed in Second Life in Forgotten City.
Welcome, Little Death
Black wings flutter in a flag of surrender
My dreams like vultures pick the corpse bare and fly off to another
Welcome, Little One
The world in your head is immense and you cross it with a step
Reluctance conquers and rules with innocence
She was never pretty, she was not the best,
She had expectations just like all the rest
She was not the brightest, she was never blessed
She held out for more, and ended up with less
Welcome, Little Fear
You sense your time has come, you jump the gun and march
on your own country
Compromise the borders and find
There’s nothing left of me
Welcome, Little Death
We always knew you’d come our sole excuse
and all forgiving friend
So kiss this demon dream goodnight
And let it end
She was never pretty, she was not the best
She had expectations just like all the rest
She was not the brightest, she was never blessed
She held out for more
And ended up with nothing
Unforgivable, the things we do sometimes
The posture we take in a room and the way we hold our eyes
The stares we never meet and the things we never say
We think we’re holding out but we’re giving it all away