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Broken Crescent

by Jak Locke

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1.
02:34
2.
03:11
3.
03:25
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02:21
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01:34
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10.
02:03

credits

released September 22, 2005

Jak Locke - Broken Crescent
Copyright © (P) 2005 Jak Locke

Avant Gardner appears on found drums on "Cyanide Sunbeam" and "Scripted Failure"

Total Sonic Chaos
Released 9/22/05
Produced by Jak Locke

all songs, music, lyrics Copyright © ® 2005 Jak Locke
but feel free to distribute freely as is

that day is a day of wrath
a day of trouble and distress
a day of wasteness and desolation
a day of darkness and gloominess
a day of clouds and thick darkness

i don't think anybody anticipated the breach of the levees
louisiana is a city that is largely under water
underprivileged anyway, so this — this is working very well for them
i might likely have to punch him
it looks like a lot of that place could be bulldozed
for god’s sake shut up and send us somebody
are you, or anybody who reports to you, considering resignation?
where's the beef?

THOUGHTS FROM JAK LOCKE:
"The sky is falling!"

Some of them almost sound as though they can't contain their joy. Not all of them of course; the tone of Christmas glee in those that do, though, more than make up for those that don't.

"The sky is falling!"

If you're one of the lucky, you get very familiar with the local news media and the rocks in the highway gravel. If you're one of the lucky, you'll have plenty of time to count rocks. And then fourteen hours later you can count cracks in the ceiling painted in shimmering television blue at the motel with the same news repeating every six hours with different voices while you try desperately, futilely, to convince yourself this isn't as bad as it feels, that it can be like a...like a vacation! A vacation. Yes. A vacation that you may be on for a very long time. A vacation where half of it's spent wondering who's still alive and the rest spent wondering if there's enough left to even think about heading back east. A vacation where an up to date satellite image of your neighborhood might be worth selling your soul to see after a few days.

Sounds like a fun vacation.

Or you might just stay home. Where you'll at least know exactly what's happening and what's happened. Where the gridlock is everyone else's problem. Where the wind screams like a butchered girl for hours and hours on end and the walls breathe harder than you do and you realize after the third day with no power precisely how tenuous and slick the grasp of society is on modern civilization. Where there is no "good area" anymore because the crashing you hear is your neighbor's door being kicked in by the people you moved here to get away from.

This is your melting pot. Where's your disconnected concern for the disadvantaged now? Where's your political correctness now?

From the furthest hotel to the Convention Center, people whisper, wail, scream, "I can't believe this!"

I can't believe that. After all, it should have been expected. Nothing at all that happened really should have come as a surprise. Well, not for any of us anyway--we not only acknowledged our city's danger, corruption and ineptitude, we bathed and exalted and took pride in it. The only surprise was that it got us this time.

"The sky is falling!" they shout. I know that it's only the roof.

--Jak Locke
September 2005
New Orleans, LA


THOUGHTS FROM POET DERRIK LE VRON:
What we have here is 5 categories of the same man. Jak Locke has described, not only the violent nature inside us all, but the actual nature that can cause such angst and despair.

There's no 'eye' in the storm which is 'Flutter;' only clear signs of heavy sweat and explicit growls that make up this song's passionate rain. I truly feel it's positioned perfectly on the list; intentionally demanding you to stay even if you weren't interested in what he's had to say so far.

In 'The Lake Could Turn Against Us,' it's clearly evident that it already has on a man (Jak Locke), who's desperately searching for some form of shelter in a storm way beyond the powers that be. The lyrics drive his vocals to a state of absolute insanity, and warns us all, that his screams will still be heard beneath mother's water.

It's very interesting to see the transition from beginning, to middle, to end in this work. An example of difference comes with 'Lazy Avenue,' which, trust me, is just that--a simplistic, yet creepy at times effort given to us through a sincere but careless melody. Meanwhile, I really feel (with "Scripted Failure") as though, at any given moment, the hand of the lead guitar may come to fall completely off after each stroke, however, Locke's vocals eventually loan a definate reminder that he has more to say no matter the circumstance, which you can't but feel the passion that has to really exist for such a will. Provoked? Most likely. I don't think the seed would ever be this rebellious.

I love how 'All Too Mid-January' really carries a sound of redemption and understanding, as though everything prior to it was but a nightmare. It's a sweet, yet complicated delivery which presents an insight of not only Jak Locke, but his entire persona that is embedded in every instrument heard throughout each song.

The album closes on a soft, relaxed note, which I must say is well-deserved. It sort of sounds like an instrumental which would be played in a recap of this man's entire musical story. Over-all, It's a collection of material that will forever be remembered as more of a 'line on a page,' rather than a 'chapter in a life.' Excellent work.

--Derrik Le Vron
September 2005
Nashville, TN

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Jak Locke New Orleans, Louisiana

Jak Locke is a multi-genre songwriter and performer based in and native to New Orleans, LA.

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Track Name: Flutter
Ain't got no plans ain't got no goal
Just leanin' 'gainst this metal pole
Seven dimes is all I hold and all I'll need today
Alive
Underneath me unearthed soil
Chaos turbine solid gold
Racked and eightballed magma phlegm
Flaming manholes beautiful filth
Track Name: Tick Tock
Living a kaleidoscope of broken bottles of alcohol
Waiting for the time to pass runnin up against another wall
Feeling so good about a tired phase with the jaded faces laughing at me
Manacles lined on the wall just waiting for a hint of levity
Speed it up honey c'mon don't make me wait
You're just getting started it's already too late
The city sings an apathy tune that I don't even care to hear
Lounging on the highway side with a canteen full of beer
Got the devil in the back of my head and your daddy's lost his mind
Who the hell'm I gonna lean on now that the death warrant's been signed
Live live live live live it up girl so I can
Give give give give give you up girl uh huh
Break it down
I'll be truckin down the line with my bag around my neck
You'll be here and doin fine, livin life like a rubber check
Oh yeah
Track Name: Cyanide Sunbeam
On our way growing cold
Something's coming soon that I don't know
If you wait and look who's here
Everywhere you look you hear some sad song
In my way, color sound
Something's coming soon underground
Anything that I do is a threat against what I do
It's turned to shit, do what you can't
Everything you know slipped through your hands
Oh those streets dream of time
You could put your eyes out, eyes won't be blind
Look into the sun cut your eyelids off
Tell me what you're seeing now
Look into the moon leave your eyes closed
Tell me what you're seeing now
Track Name: Blind Dirge
When the visions and mirages fade away and the rain puddles reflect the only light
You can feel misery's caress on your shoulder through the alleys in the abandoned night
When the picture of the devil starts to follow with his eyes with its palette of fifty shades of gray
And the music that drips thinly through the windows falls in dirges that echo in the clay
When the falling stars are all you find to wish upon, Billie Babylon strokes his harp and prays
And the rest they spread their eyelids wide and stare into the sun only for the cause of filling up their days
Track Name: The Lake Could Turn Against Us
Destruction defeated rejected died
"Why don't you tell me why" why
Distraught destroyed distraught destroy
"Why don't you tell me why" why
Just drown
Track Name: Lazy Avenue
A tired breeze is blowing through the tired trackside street
I'm a self secluded junkie and I got no one to meet
Humidity is rising and I had too much to drink
So I watch it rise as the skies and my eyes are quickly turning pink
The bloated moon and tired sun staring each other down
And with every passing minute I'm perfecting jaded frowns
The dried up leaves are falling on the derelict block
I'm an aimless hobo decided to take himself out for a walk
There's a bohemian woman trying hard not to curse me out
I wouldn't care too much now anyway, I don't know what it's all about
It's a suicide deuce and feeling loose and smoking up the crack
It's a smile to your face and flip the bird behind your back
So I'm hitting up the vineyards, I got plenty company
There's a thousand in the same boat that got no place to be
And I'll say hello to the stray dogs as we all pass the day
So much nothing to see and do and tonight, that's okay
Track Name: Scripted Failure
On these waves you ain't got no choice but to sink or sink
On these waves you ain't got no choice you ain't got no choice
You ain't got no choice but....your punishment
You ain't got no choice Lord you ain't got no choice
No choice
Can't get through I could try for weeks
Can't get through I'll be tryin for weeks
If you think you could baby nothing stoppin you from trying
If you think you could nothin but the Lord is stoppin you from you trying
Been down in Bourbon been down St. Claude
I been down St. Mary Street cryin for the law
Where you been, honey, I don't think so
I been down uptown I been down to the bottom of the well
I been down in places you never heard so well
Honey what's stoppin you from tellin me what's on your mind
A little water never hurt no one so you oughta be fine
A little water never hurt no one so you oughta be fine
A little water never hurt no one so you oughta be fine
A little water never hurt no one so you oughta be fine
Track Name: All Too Mid-January
There's another derelict along the highway
Whispering gently into Van Gogh's ear
Anti-fashion scars on the cadaver
That occupies the space my soul has cleared
Now you can feel the moans from all the pitied wastelands
You can lean your head and taste the bitter wind
You can substitute your fields of gold for plywood
You can fool yourself into believing you're there again
Some orchestra of sea-sick demon railmen
Scores the setting close behind the gate
In the midst of all the statuesque regalia
To drown would be a pleasure far too great
Believe them that your words'll make a difference
Wonder if the last word gives you power
Let me tell you if you think that it's really gospel
There's sixty just like you born every hour
The supposed independents march their cadence
And flinging all their sense out to the air
They ask me if it even makes a difference
And me I don't even care to care
Now dreams are but a playground for the foolish
Who still believe hope's not a passing fad
Some outlaw marionette behind the alleys
Rusted cords no mind left to go mad
Now Kerouac is plucking the piano strings
As Judas puts his arm around my back
Majestic in the graveyard at my doorstep
My ever-ceasing rest between the cracks
And I alone you can call me Teresius
Because seeing's more right now than I can stand
And I never knew the true meaning of empty
Until nothing's all I could hold in my hand