the night​-​time

by James Dey

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Beautiful folded recycled card sleeve, hand typed front cover, lyrics, inner card artwork by Chris Hooson.

    Includes unlimited streaming of the night-time via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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1.
04:01
2.
3.
4.
04:47
5.
02:47
6.
7.
02:37
8.
9.
04:22
10.
02:27
11.
06:49

about

This is an album about the night-time. It's about one last grasp at your share of the sheets, the rhythm of the waves on the beach in the dark, finding yourself locked out and back home with the same old squeaky floorboards, dancing in the aisles at midnight, leaving casinos with hands rammed in empty pockets, the park closing down as the toy train parks up, breath slowing as the world folds in again. It's about nothing and everything, staying the same and changing, still moments that add up to more than they seem. It's about the night-time.

credits

released July 16, 2016

All songs written and produced by James Dey.
Mixed by James Dey with additional mixing by John Dey.
Additional production and mixing on track 3 by Gav McGrath.
Mastered by Tom Woodhead at Hippocratic Mastering.
Photography and design by Chris Hooson.

Frances Jones – cello on tracks 4, 7, 8 and 11.
Fie Meneghello – vocals on tracks 1, 4, 6, 8 and 10.
John Dey – trumpet on tracks 3, 5 and 6, electric guitar on tracks 1 & 6.
Jim Muckelt – bass on tracks 1, 3 and 6.
Jack Beevers – bass on track 5.
Chris Moore – piano on track 5.
Rob Thomson – viola on track 2.

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about

James Dey Leeds, UK

James was born in Halifax, England in the summer of 1982. Growing up in a vicarage in Bradford with four brothers, the house was full of music. James released 'Landing Lights' in 2005, composed for theatre companies for several years before finally completing his second album 'the night-time' in 2016. He aims to write music of hushed beauty, telling small stories of seemingly unremarkable things. ... more

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Track Name: the yawn
The yawn of an ageing day,
blinking out the last few seconds of leaving light,
and a struggle it is to say whatever came before right now,
just this journey and these 6 people.
And a hope that it will end before the night-time starts, when the bat comes out,
and it’s darting through the covered café,
just enough candles to watch it blindly dance round pillars,

with a grace and direction I’ll always lack,
still the blackness wraps around us like my hand round this glass.

Then gladly, woozy, we stumble back,
collapse together as if we always have,
and with one last grasp at our share of the sheets,
then it’s over, complete, and sleep rolls over us.

Taking dreams underneath it just like the clouds,
creeping over the hills rising all around.
Track Name: everything is after
After all that, everything is after,
after all that, everything is after that, everything is after.
If I could take it all back, be happy ever after,
take it all back, be happy ever after that, happy ever after.

We’ll make a new pact, fill everything with laughter,
make a new pact, fill everything with laughter, that should make it all go faster.
Then nothing we’ll lack, we’ll paper over cracks,
nothing we’ll lack, we’ll paper over cracks, will that keep away disaster?
Keep away disaster.
Track Name: the gentle words you say
Drove down to the beach at night, got scared on the way,
Just to hear the rhythm of the waves.
The ocean before me sighs and rolls on again,
Watch my footprints be erased.

Keep my bible always by my bedside,
as if just it lying there will save me when I die,
or give me sight when I am blind or in two minds.

A tall house on the hill behind,
unknown it became a guide that kept my body safe.
The beam of my headlights, I’m driving again,
just to hear the gentle words you say.

“Keep your mind and thinking on your best side,
leave those lustful, lying days a million miles behind,
And you will find that in good time all fears subside”.
Track Name: only then
Only when all the books are in their colours
and only when the piano's tuned,
only when birds perch on the table
and flowers of every colour bloom.
Only when your old hymn board is hanging
and covered in chalk scrawled made up names,
we'll wait till the scrabble clock is ticking
and we've filled all the mismatched picture frames.
Only when your sure nimble fingers
have sewn up a patch on both on both my knees,
Only when all the walls are covered
with maps from the places we have been.

Only then, only then is a space created,
into which, into which, more can come?

Only when autumn prayers make patterns,
awaiting their moment to be read,
only when winter's snow starts melting
and windows are opened wide again.
Only when paint splashed clothes are packed up,
still covered in colours that we chose,
only when washing lines hang heavy,
as morning light streams through the clothes.

Only then, only then is a space created,
into which, into which more can come?
Only then, only then is a place we imagined,
happening, happening, until we are done?

And don't look too far ahead,
it's just out reach and packed with distractions,
yes there's no silver thread that we're waiting for,
cos life's already here.
Track Name: hedgehog
Find that I’ve come back home,
I still know the squeaks in all the floorboards.
Tonight I’ve been locked out and returned to where I’ll always go,
chasing spiders round the lilac room,
thinking about the ark and Samuel’s mum,
if this is real life then I’m sure that I want more.

Just earlier today all the air was filled with storms,
And I imagined me and my country were at war,
chasing unknown threats in unknown towns,
and as the thunder rolled around,
if this is what’s in store I don’t know that I want more.

It could have been this morning,
I found a hedgehog lying dead,
all still and tangled, strangled in the cricket nets.
And I wasn’t sure what I should do,
but as I tried somewhere in me knew that when I leave I want you to be there too.
Yes when I leave I want you to be there too.
Track Name: when no one's talking
When no one’s talking,
I can hear the bells and picture women ringing.
All in a circle, timing very well and wondering who’s marrying.

Dum dum dum de dum.

When no one’s talking, a muffled radio as old as me still humming,
and though no one’s listening the shipping forecast tells of all the weather coming.

Dum dum dum de dum.

So let’s hush and listen,
let the silence fill the gaps in our conversations.
Track Name: another year
A thousand books open at once,
it’s like rain falling through spring leaves.
He makes a cross upon her head and then quickly rubs it away.

Walking home a train of babies we’re holding on to,
with no better place to go we’re still hoping for you.

Later on when midnight comes there are people dancing in the aisles,
happy that by chance they’re seeing another year.
Track Name: smokers in the corridor
The chlorine on my fingers takes my mind
racing back to a shabby hotel on a windswept coast.
The swimming pool was our meeting room,
with diving boards that were too high for the water’s depth.


And through the steamed up glass
the others watch us splash,
a human wave machine,
until they’re all asleep except us.

A broken lift, smokers in the corridor,
sneaking out for secret walks, hands touching hands.
Our friend’s dads, smoking in the snooker room,
sadly they’ll both be gone soon, a widow’s choir.

Arcade lights are flashing off and on,
casinos draw in those with nowhere else to go.
The coppers in my pockets weigh me down,
so I’ll chance my luck beside those stuck in a seaside town.

The slot machines will chime,
you’re welcome anytime,
we’re leaving happily,
our pockets empty, hands rammed in.

A broken lift, smokers in the corridor,
sneaking out for secret walks, hands touching hands.
Our friend’s dads, smoking in the snooker room,
sadly they’ll both be gone soon, a widow’s choir.
Track Name: the park
At night the park closes down and the toy train parks up,
the sun sets on it and all the barking dogs go quiet.
At night the park closes down and the toy train parks up,
empty of it’s bustle now the park has space to sleep in,
lines of tree shadows start to deepen.

And I’ll take the long way round,
not another sound but tyres through the rain.
The band stands without music now,
but the music is singing out to me.
And I see that everyone’s gone home,
see their TVs switch on.

At night the park darkens, roundabouts slow down then stop,
a motor starts and scattered boats are gathered safely up.
At night the park empties, benches fill with huddled shapes,
the air gets cold and nobody comes to gather them all up,
nobody comes to gather them all up.

And I’ll take the long way round,
not another sound but tyres through the rain.
The band stands without music now,
but the music is singing out to me.
And I see that everyone’s gone home,
see that everyone’s unknown,
see their TVs switch on.
Track Name: andrika
There’s a boat we keep in the garden,
leaf-filled and creaky,
with cracks that show it’s past it’s sailing days.
The grass grows up from underneath
and branches hang over,
the blue paint and the white paint peels away,
as here now for years it’s remained.

And she’s called Andrika,
but we don’t know who named her,
Andrika, but no one knows who named her.

What was once the scene of high adventure
has become a garden feature,
as creatures nest inside and underneath.
It’s mooring in this corner has lasted for so long,
it looks more at home than it ever did at sea.
The sails and oars are nowhere to be seen.
It’s anchored here indefinitely.

And she’s called Andrika,
but we don’t know who named her,
Andrika, but no one knows who named her.
We’d take it out on the estuary
and exaggerate the memories,
till all the things that happened seem like myths.
Like the time dad tied a rope around his waist
and towed into the harbour,
Track Name: every bit
You exist, you’re a gift I won’t refuse.
And even if all of this should disappear I’d still love you.
You never fit with what I think or thought I knew about you,
so every bit, I’m giving it to you,
anew.

Let my head drop and rest just next to you
and listen to your pencil move across the page,
scratching a prayer.
Then your breath warms my neck in little bursts,
soon it slows and so the world folds in again,
folds in again.

You exist, you’re a gift I won’t refuse.







It rained today for the first time in weeks,
I soaked it up and spat it out and splashed with my feet,
somehow I felt it watered my soul,
now I’m growing, I’m growing, I’m growing.

It rained the day we moved grandma out,
we packed her up and sent her on and sifted her house,
seems like it can’t be detached from her,
but she’s going, she’s going, she’s going.

It rained the day we sat by the sea,
from car to car passed sandwiches, passed flasks full of tea.
Climbed down and let the waves chase us back,
now we’re soaking, we’re soaking, we’re soaking.