Appendix to my new album, “Quel Nouveau Minette,” which is a compilation of jam sessions 2016-2019.
Listen to the album while reading the text.
Sirens call you by your name
Diva dreamer
Lady deep sleep
Sirens call you by your man
Wave their bubble faithed fans
Say have you brought our inner mirror
Feeling like we’re disappearing
Madeleine, your legs were beautiful like dawn
Madeleine, your legs were bitter like a flower
Madeleine, your legs were complicated like Beckett
Madeleine, your legs were as clean as your ass
Madeleine, your legs were the highway to the bottom
Madeleine, your legs were naked outside the net
Madeleine, your legs were a bard’s failure
Madeleine, your legs were everything like Warhol
Madeleine, your legs were sex without sex
Madeleine, your legs were the eyes of a poet
Madeleine, your legs were a toast with impunity
Madeleine, your legs were indoctrination of the underworld
Madeleine, your legs were Rogner’s synthesizer
Madeleine, your legs were the text of Renate
Madeleine, your legs were a teenager from Górczyn
Madeleine, your legs were Cadillac tramps
Madeleine, your legs were the splendor of meekness
Madeleine, your legs were long
I probably should only say that
And bore you for the rest of your life
Amen
Meet me in French districts
Meet me where the Wall is
Pass my passport kindly
Lead my sure hand blindly
So we can escape
Grey yesterday’s sentiments
This album has a very interesting background. It involves two French dancers I met at a jam session. They wanted to buy cigarettes, but on the way to the store, which took 20 minutes longer than it should they decided to “take a musician home.” I guess they never spent a night with a guitar player before, as they were quite surprised by the arpeggiated foreplay that lasted 4 hours and included Jimi Hendrix showoffs, flamenco idiocy, and, finally oral practice on the frets. After all that silly shit, one of the French girls, I don’t remember their names, says “play something sexy,” with an accent that could drive Keith Richards even more nuts than he already is. So I said, yeah, my first Woman taught me this song in bed, you’ll love it. I disappeared for two weeks that night. Gotta love jam sessions!
And I know I must be crazy
Waiting by the phone booth haze
And I know you’ve got the number
But we always call too late
That’s just the trouble with fate
It was all for you, Madeleine, now it’s all for the Girl of the Road. Have you met Her? Somewhere in Bavaria…
Adam Majdecki-Janicki
Adam Majdecki-Janicki. Poznań, Poland. Cosmic organic Lo-Fi music from the planet 93-105, and other sonic curiosities. Since 2002. http://adammajdeckijanicki.wordpress.com/bio/ Artist photo by Hannelore.