Get all 9 Dan Whitehouse releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Ten Steps, Reflections On The Glass Age (acoustic), Voices From The Cones, The Glass Age, Raw State, Don’t Look Down By Ainsley Hamill, Ösp Eldjárn and Dan Whitehouse., Reaching Further For A State Of Mind, Reaching For A State Of Mind, and 1 more.
1. |
Ten Steps
03:30
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1. TEN STEPS
You must not fear these steps
let me hold your hand
one foot in front of the other
don’t count - don't look down
10 STEPS surround you
let the rhythm guide you
step into your power
you powerful man
let go of what doesn’t serve you
let go never doubt
your sweet feet
your hands
your strength
I’m with you every step
I could die and not feel a thing
your power
your love
your heart
there is no end
10 STEPS
we are the people standing here
those worshipping the sun
it was us all along
10 steps
we could hold hands, no need to look down
you’ve got eyes on the souls of your feet
you’ve got eyes on the souls of your feet
10 STEPS
I don’t remember the start
BRIDGE
I could die and not feel a thing x2
10 steps
10 steps
let go……..
You must not fear these steps
Let me hold your hand
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2. |
Bury One's Head
02:16
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2. BURY ONE’S HEAD
Departure procedure
we are departing Kabul
to remain in the traffic pattern
we will fly straight ahead
engaging auto pilot
once stable above 400 ft agm…altitude
Remove himself from it all
sat drinking coffee
as the world turned black
clinging to the moving aircraft
desperate crowds
bury one’s head in the long cold night
running alongside
as the engines whirr
I verify we are taking off from runway 27
Final and the runway is clear
Lights, strobes and landing lights on
I will now taxi into the runway
trapped in the landing gear
nothing further I can do
but whistle in the wind
falling
falling
falling
I need your hand upon my side
I need you dancing
I need your hand upon my side
I need you dancing
I need your hand
clinging to the moving aircraft
bury one’s head
clinging to the moving aircraft
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3. |
Shizuka
02:21
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3. SHIZUKA
The rustle of the leaves feels like a finger raised to sealed lips
the rounded edges of aging nylon strings
A gentle bow of the head
The ever growing list of things unsaid
The grey and brown canvas tones of this season’s fashion.
The soft whirl of the helicopter fans overhead
A gentle bow of the head
The ever growing list of things unsaid
A gentle bow of the head
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4. |
The Perfect Circle
02:13
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4. THE PERFECT CIRCLE
The perfect circle of the day marches up and around
the calm conductor points their baton and urges us to listen beyond the loud
the overture of time
the overture of time
dig beneath the surface
I spend time raking up the leaves
hear the hum
hear the hum
aware of the sound
where the magic lives and breathes
hear the hum
hear the hum
I know it when I see it
my pockets bursting with the stars
hear the hum
hear the hum
the perfect circle of the day gently spinning in my heart
hear the hum
hear the hum
the overture of time
the perfect circle of the day gently spinning in my heart
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5. |
Hammerhead
02:22
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5. HAMMERHEAD
I sit here and feel numb
I hear him speaking with his friend
through his mask
they’re in the communal lounge
and the soft furnishings dampen the sharp
edges of his tone
but it is his voice
In real life
stripped back and acoustic
what a treat to hear
I’m his audience of thousands
waiting expectantly
Flying away
What will he say next?
Flying away
Every breath holds such wonder
Every word such wisdom
Hammerhead thick and heavy
Weighing in damaging
I battle through days for these moments
Iron ore soldered raw
Binding us anchoring us
Here for ever more
I know all too well how brief they’ll be
Flying away
I won’t let you down
I won’t let you slip
I’ll be at your side
For now forever more
My tongue bitten to shreds
I sew what’s left of it together and say…
I’m a good parent
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6. |
How To Strike
06:06
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6. HOW TO STRIKE
Down at the bay
his tall frame casts a long shadow in the afternoon sun
he settles himself and prepares to play
A gentle brush on the ground
the leading edge starts to hit
rolling his shoulders back
he prepares to strike
swing to the back
move the triangle
square your clubface
back and forth over the shoulders
keep the width,
maintain balance.
How to
How to
How to
How to
Still as the water
a simple movement
a common, yet vital shot
will he pull it off?
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7. |
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7.THE MANY COLOURS OF MORNING
The sharp citrus fragrance of the apartment
The soft sheen of polished wooden flooring underfoot
sliding and slipping in socks
shoes left in a neat line at the door
silent door handles
gentle clicks not clunks
An orchestra of hums
From the air con, the road, the sea
The black of the morning isn't threatening
‘cos I know she’s only playing
I know what she’s hiding
I know how how thin her viel is
a whispery single piece of silk
through the street lamp I can see her lips
it won’t be long before this is lifted and I’m embraced by exactly all of this.
The amber nectar of sunrise
deep fade from red via orange, even green, then clear blue skies
The gentle unassuming morning, never not by your side
I invite the sun to drown me
and give dagger eyes to the clouds
I’m a baby asking for water
snuggle me up under your blouse
grey paste in the air hangs silent
Like the dull haze of a hangover
sugar should make the cut
through everything I miss
a lightning bolt
I’m allowed to create
yet discipline is the only thing
that still bleeds from this place
the precise cube of stone buildings
built on top of the marsh
sinking slowly back into the ground
as I float here on the fifth floor
up to 30 storeys above
all these compressed hearts
repressed emotions, silent arguments
please refrain from unnecessary speech
in fact, please don’t speak
The howl of adulthood is too much
she said part of you is not living
I slide into you
push you to the ground
it won’t be long before I’m wasted and complete
let me be bound by you in your freedom
did I express or spoil?
did I fall or release?
His words gently float from me as she pulls him away
I stand tall and strong await my queue
the audience patient
my worries are meaningless here,
in the moment of performance everything makes sense
you are absolutely, complete in a void
like being in outer space
there’s no God
no past, no future
just now and the next millisecond
total serenity
You are a FREE DIVER
So FREE DIVE
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Dan Whitehouse Birmingham
“Subtle and delicate melodies” The Sunday Times
“Nothing short of beautiful – **** ”
RnR Magazine
Singer-guitarist Dan Whitehouse renews, reinvents and reimagines - touching listeners with his observations and moving them with his sensitivity and impeccable songwriting.
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