Club Zru

by Zru Vogue

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about

CLUB ZRU blends new Zru and old-Zru-made-new-again, in an enticing blend of cool funk, hot avant-garde, and sweet-and-sour dada.

credits

released October 1, 2010

Andrew L. Jackson: Vocals, electric guitars, e-bow guitars, percussion, beats, synthesizers, loops, sound sculpture, hand claps, clarinet
Rick Cuevas: Bass, electric guitars, e-bow guitars, keyboards, Yamaha synthesizer, beats, loops, digital and electronic drums, percussion, vocal treatments, backing vocals
Patrick Coyne: Electronic drums

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Zru Vogue San Francisco, California

Avant-Pop, Art-Funk, Surrealist Indie Rock from the San Francisco Bay Area. Zru Vogue's first single "Nakweda Dream" (1981) is an early post-punk classic. Band members Andrew Lawrence Jackson, Rick Cuevas, and Patrick Coyne continue to create inspired new music for postmoderns. ... more

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Track Name: Blue Room
Lyrics:

I’m sitting by my blue wall
I’m laying on my pillows
I’m saying what comes in my mind
And wearing a kimono

You’re out there on the city streets
You’re several flights above me now
You're talking with the derelicts
You're on to me I don’t know how

But I can give you credit
For being something special
There’s something special on my mind
And you know what it is

I’m sitting by my blue wall
I’m laying on my pillows
I’m saying what comes in my mind
And wearing a kimono

You’re out there on the city streets
An airplane flies above your head
I’m playing with the hands of time
And thinking ‘bout the things you said
(I’m thinking about the things you said)

And I can give you credit
For being something special
There’s something special on my mind
And you know what it is

There’s something special on my mind
And you know what it is
You know what it is
--
Lyrics ©1978 Andrew L. Jackson
Track Name: Cellophane Drama
Lyrics:

Another night of crazy dreams
Re-enacting a past that never happened
Here I am wearing pajamas
One absurd creature in a cellophane drama

Sinking feelings of creature comforts
On paper horses, we freak the night fantastic
Oblivion, making a soundtrack
To take to work in this cellophane dream

My life is an absurd recreation
Time, life, in an imaginary world
Shelf life, as I contemplate my fate
I wanna stay fresh past my expiration date

I’m faking it again, I mean, why stop now?
I take another picture to layer the cake
Licking the frosting, it’s a taste sensation
An urbane drama with no second takes

My cellophane drama is a puppet show on ice
In my cellophane drama, I never think twice
I’m acting out my sentence in a never-ending comma
In my blue period, it’s only a phrase

My life is an absurd recreation
Time, life, in an imaginary world
Shelf life, as I contemplate my fate
I wanna stay fresh past my expiration date

Peak time!
Flex time!
All time!
All mine!
--
Lyrics ©2010 Andrew L. Jackson
Track Name: Pretty Girl
Lyrics:

It’s on the top of my list
It’s almost seven years
I didn’t make it as a writer or a painter or a desk clerk or a cashier
I want to pick up my song where I dropped it
But I can’t seem to find that spot
So look out Judy, put on your sunglasses
‘Cause here I come, ready or not

Coming back to be with you again
Going back to be with my old friend
Where I am is so lonely and cold
And the people that I used to know are getting so old

Going back to be with my sweet young thing
I’ll backtrack to loving everything
When I see you I’ll know what to sing
Here I come, here I come, here I come, here I come, here I come...
Pretty girl
--
Lyrics ©1981 Andrew L. Jackson
Track Name: Future Typos
Lyrics:

I'm thinking ‘bout white-out
I'm thinking ‘bout Lipo
I’m thinking ‘bout backspacing
My future typos

I’m thinking ‘bout breakdown
I’m cutting in sections
I’m feeling the need for
Some error correction

I’m in through the Out door
I’m lurking with winos
I’m deep in the jungle
Cavorting with rhinos

And, and, so I contemplate white-out
Injection with hypos
I’m bankrupt of everything
Except future typos

I contemplate white-out
Injection with hypos
I’m bankrupt of everything
Except future typos

I'm thinking ‘bout white-out
I'm thinking ‘bout Lipo
I’m thinking ‘bout backspacing
My future typos
--
Lyrics ©2010 Andrew Lawrence Jackson
Track Name: Move With The Water
Lyrics:

I feel like a strange collector
Of blank masks with idiot eyes
I’m on an icy river
And I don’t know where I’m going

But I feel the lonely water
Moving around the world
I’m moving with the water
I try to find the words
I let the water take me
Where I need to go
It’s all I need to think about
It’s all I need to know

I move around, move around
I move around

There is an icy vision
I feel the eyes on me
The celestial virgin
Is making faces at me
It doesn’t really matter
I’m in the underworld
There is a perfect circle
Into which I’ve been hurled
So I let the water take me
Where I need to go
It’s all I need to think about
It’s all I need to know

I move around, move around
I move around

(It’s all the same where we’re going; it’s all the same)

Move with the water
--
Lyrics by Andrew Lawrence Jackson
Track Name: Transcendent
Lyrics:

Tran – scen – dent

She is transcendent
But she takes it too far
She’s burning incense
With the door ajar
Flicker of candles
And flies in a jar
Drifting in channels
Of a spirited car

You try to leave her
But she catches you up
She knows your secrets
You don’t want her to stop
Laughter it echoes
You can’t get enough
Going in circles
Till you get to the top

In her Lady’s Chamber
She changes her hue
Enveloped in amber
Tinted aqua-blue
The girls want to be her
And the men want her too
She’s out of reach
But we’re enjoying the view

Tran – scen – dent
--
Lyrics ©2010 Andrew L. Jackson
Track Name: Wigwam Woman
Lyrics:

She black face, she back in the kitchen
Break down the door, no one around
Knock at the window, don’t make a difference
She drop dead, she don’t make a sound

She am a wigwam woman
She going crazy, fall out of the bed
Down in the basement playing with matches
She’s in the dark with a needle and thread

She like to go out shopping
She like to peel her skin
She gonna break down sobbing
She look so frail and thin

She got a mouth on fire moving at half speed
She am a wigwam woman and she know what I need
She got a nightmare vision sleeping in her throat
She got her heart in a pocket of her dead animal coat

She take a bath in the morning
Feel like a fish in the sea
She comin’ up from underwater
She making faces at me

She am a wigwam woman
She going crazy, fall out of the bed
Down in the basement playing with matches
She’s in the dark with a needle and thread
--
Lyrics ©1983 Andrew L. Jackson
Track Name: Consenting Adults
Consenting adults can do what they want
Consenting adults can have their fun
Consenting adults can make love
To one another whenever they want

Happy this, happy that
Loving this, loving that
Free to be who they want
Happy this, happy that
Loving this, loving that
Free to do what they want

Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo
Do what you want
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo
Do what you want

Consenting adults can do what they want
Consenting adults can have their fun
Consenting adults can make love
To one another whenever they want

Happy this, happy that
Loving this, loving that
Free to be who they want
Happy this, happy that
Loving this, loving that
Free to do what they want

Do what you want
Do what you want
So do what you want
--
Lyrics ©2010 Andrew L. Jackson
Track Name: Afterlife
The picture keeps on going. It never leaves the screen. I’m in and out of sequence, and I’m floating in-between. I look out of the window. I see the world gone mad. I take another picture and I paste it to the pad. I look up an acquaintance. A thousand years ago, we lived among the tundra in a tiny bungalow. A life of grey illusion. A life that’s crystal clear. A hundred lives between us, neither there or are we here. I sense a subtle movement, a stirring in the past. I watch the circles circle endlessly inside the glass. A passport through the limelight, into a world unknown. Like ice into the mirror melts into the ether zone. I walked a million pastures. I died a thousand deaths. I walked a hundred highways and I breathed the hidden breaths. I shape this glass impression against a waterfall. I felt the deaths infinite through the long enchanted hall.

I’m in the pocket of a doctor on a holiday cruise, and I would tell you all about it but it’s yesterday’s news. She be a rhinocratic woman in a red leather dress. She talking backwards in the dark where she come to confess. The priest is looking out the window where he’s shaking his head, because he thought he’d heard it all, he can’t believe what she said. I’m in the pocket of a doctor on a holiday cruise, and I would tell you all about it but it’s yesterday’s news.

I – said – the - picture keeps on going. It never leaves the screen. I’m in and out of sequence, and I’m floating in-between. I look out of the window. I see the world gone mad. I take another picture and I paste it to the pad. I look up an acquaintance. A thousand years ago, we lived among the tundra in a tiny bungalow. A life of grey illusion. A life that’s crystal clear. A hundred lives between us, neither there or are we here. I shape this glass impression against a waterfall. I felt the deaths infinite through the long enchanted hall. A passport through the limelight, into a world unknown. Like ice into the mirror melts into the ether zone. The picture keeps on going. It never leaves the screen. I’m in and out of sequence, and I float in-between.