Pandemonstrate

by Momo:tempo

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about

A special one-off testimony to the summer that would never come.

A response to the strangest of time for everyone in different ways, all sales of Pandemonstrate are going to the Creative Minds campaign by Dorset Mind, helping people stay at home while keeping the charity's 1-2-1 and other support running online and on the phone. While everyone's thoughts are so much with our health workers, battling the effects of Covid19 on front lines of support, I am conscious of the next wave of health problems facing us, as we all try to process a new reality. Knowing a couple of the team in this south coast chapter of Mind, I am keen to support them as they try to help people manage their emotional wellbeing in an incredibly uncertain and challenging period.

Visit the Just Giving page to find out more:

www.justgiving.com/fundraising/pandemonstrate?.

A moment in time to reflect on where we've come from, and the future we want to dare to envisage living in.

Thank you so much for supporting.

Timo. x

lyrics

Pandemonstrate,
by Timo Peach.

Thinking of the summers ahead,
horizons wide and far.
Like nineteen eighty-eight –
the weather was great;
still feel its promise like a dawn star.
Still hear its echos in the guy accross the road
still playing his guitar.

Thinking of the summer behind –
the one that sowed the seeds of art.
Bought my first four-track
and I never looked back,
pushing tapes and miles
through Dad's car.

Now nothing's as it used to be.
Because it's not about you or me,
and in joy and in grief I can feel the relief;
played a part, made a start you won't see.
Now nothing's as it might have been;
it's not about being heard or being seen.
Say I'm right. Say I'm wrong.
Sing a revolution song;
won't deny it, in the quiet I feel clean.

I want to be with you tonight.
I'm sorry, I may be late.
All these years to find the revolution I fit right?
Well, on the road from eighty-eight,
I've been down, I've been great
but now I'm going to pandemonstrate.

Thinking of the way we were
and the lives held out to us.
Like the guy two doors away
barbequeing every day,
we felt free to ride the bus.
But who subsidises and pays the price
we never discussed.

Looking at the world around me,
we're living through little windows.
Nostalgia like crack –
addicted to looking back –
and where all our waste goes
we guess somebody knows.

Now nothing's as it used to be.
Because it's not about you or me,
and in joy and in grief I can feel the relief;
to let go and to know I am free.
Now nothing's as it might have been;
it's not about being heard or being seen.
Say I'm right. Say I'm wrong.
Sing a revolution song;
won't deny it, in the quiet I feel clean.

I want to be with you tonight.
I'm sorry I made you wait.
All these years to find the revolution I fit right?
Well, on the road from eighty-eight,
I've been slow, I've been late
but now I'm going to pandemonstrate.

Back when I had no fears,
I was dropping through the gears
dreaming of the futures I'd hum.
After all these years,
when your face reappears
I realise how much I've not done.
And that we're all simply waiting
for a summer that will never come.

Facing up to letting go
of the elders we've revered.
Because who we've looked to
are leaving and few old heroes
haven't disappeared.

Picturing the road ahead,
I see a star for the dawn to fill.
There's a time to occupy –
stop the traffic with a sign!
But the line has got to be cleared until
we can walk in the light of a light
still over the hill.

I'm hoping it'll demonstrate much
to live as though I know
that no one's left untouched.

credits

released May 15, 2020
Written performed and produced by Timo Peach. Featuring the guy across the road, Martin Rice, on dreamy 80s lead guitar, and the guy a little further up the road, Pete Whitfield, on violins.

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about

Momo:tempo Bournemouth, UK

Momo:tempo is independent creative, music maker and arty blighter, Timo Peach. Fusing influences from across electronic music, film and theatre, Momo’s terrifically eclectic music production outfit is a crafted riot of beats, tunes and carefully chosen words. ... more

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