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Golden Mountain, Here I Come

by Savage Mansion

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1.
Golden mountain, here I come. Culture wars, Psychic defense, Yearning for a life more abundant Onwards! A new continent! One for Hampden’s Bolivar Two fingers to conquistadors Unsolved murders, unarmed victims And the lies agreed upon And I Won’t give up on it so easily Won’t give up on it at all Taken by the hand Unlearn everything on Golden Mountain Put shoulder to an idea And disturb those sleeping dogs Because silence it is violence That has never brought results Helicopter with a burning man Troubled by the experience After you get just what you want You don’t want it Not at all But I Won’t give up on it so easily Won’t give up on it at all Taken by the hand Unlearn everything and Golden Mountain, here I come And this is not how it’s supposed to work Sheltered under benign gaze Puts gold teeth in a mealy mouth This is not how it’s supposed to work This is not how it’s supposed to end Goliath in the printing press On your TV, in your head Life more abundant Dormant once and now awake We are out for all life has to give Not for all that we can take Yearning for the life more abundant Dormant once and now awake We are out for all life has to give Not for all that we can take Won’t give up on it so easily Won’t give up on it at all Taken by the hand Unlearn everything and Golden Mountain, here I come
2.
Patriot is a type the palatable kind what’s in the box? a thousand crooked nails I wasn’t sorry then and I’m not sorry now for football weather at the gates of hell You can’t go home you can’t go home again Over and over again i’m in the business of protection and i serve the ultras grazing by the riverbank the brave defenders of the queen and the kingdom but not of not of you and i The murder plots of MBS The Magpie spins and pirouettes Which side? It’s an interesting test You can’t go home, you can’t go home You can’t go home, you can’t go home again And now to test your loyalty! And now to test your loyalty! Are you looking back or are you here?
3.
The Crucible 02:29
What I believe to be be true I must preserve My stock-in-trade, fables sung in rounds And battle cries Battle cries of a generation The sculptor who declares “these bullets do complete my work” See the hip parade Hear the clap back roar like thunder The apple fall not so far from the tree Do you believe everything you are told? Schmidt the priest, do you take him at his word? Do you believe? There is a way There is a way I wonder what does it look like as a dance? I won't profess to understand But I only want to make it last There is a way There is a way And concerned not with eternity Untethered from the crucible of brutal self-reflection There is a way
4.
Plans 03:47
No plans It’s not the right time What is the right time? To do No chords And no kidding Four walls and the truth Lost a day And lost another Travelling back in time Afraid life is living me Afraid I’m right out of mind Where streams become destroyers When this is not your town These people They’re not me I don’t know where they came from I take a suplex from the king And I sell the finisher Hit refresh Hit repeat Stay cold, stay still Not me! Not by my own design The walls enclose What a sight to behold! I didn’t know his name Until it was too late I didn’t know his name And there must be another way Sport washing! Fridge hiding! Oh sit back and do nothing When warm rain trickles onto the back Oh sit back and do nothing And it’s a thin, thin line from organised crime Oh - sit back and do nothing Over the narrow water to another world! I won’t sit back and do nothing I have to ask the question I won’t sit back and do nothing I have to ask the question I won’t sit back and do nothing I have to ask the question I won’t sit back and do nothing
5.
Everyone just seems like god, In conversation with the clock Learned to bear this new afterlife Couldn’t beat them Joined the club But there’s no love in obligation There’s no love in perpetual motion There’s no love in a stampede There is no love, there is no love Stentorian white noise, And the gossip gravy like, Agency floored, a problem that you can’t ignore. Delete yourself Delete yourself Talking to a package Talking to Myself in the new solitude Spin through the back roads of the mind Endure the endless sleepless nights And there’s no love in this condition No love for a daydream nation The devil resting on a hammock There is no love, there is no love Strange arc, strange flowers Sarcastic kudos echoes, Paranoid soul, do not fear the open door Delete yourself! Delete yourself! From the dreams now gone forever Delete yourself! Delete yourself! From the erased as occurred! Delete yourself! Delete yourself! For you cannot land a glove on it anymore
6.
The Custom 03:03
The Greek observed the modern man who runs around in circles and knows enough to feel senseless, not enough to know why The barrel, a joke in the right context a local anaesthetic for the humdrum state of mind Everywhere, you can find those who live for empty desires alone and have no interest in the good life Everywhere, lament what they don’t have they’re are never, never, never ever satisfied Exist forever on the verge of song Clandestine plays when we pass the group stage and still fail — some things never change Pastoral, no more watching the clock It’s only air and space that matters these days A nation from the same hymn sheet sung or serenaded? The national anthem Heard out on the frontline By the openly disrespected Exist forever on the verge of song Blue is the azure of the Hebridean waters, the shifting tones of the Ishtar gate And the view from the window seat on a flight that costs less than the rent Blue is the colour of Steve McQueen’s jeans, Sonic the hedgehog, the first and last day of France 98 The custom, a fear and reverence for the colour of addiction and of obsession The custom is reverse engineered from an endgame palatable to a handful Exist forever on the verge of song
7.
Tricks 02:25
Who will survive in the upside down, glass protected imitation of what once was? Who will survive? Not the seabirds that scavenge or the red headed wonder that moves between dozens of doorsteps who will survive? who will survive? I have such strange eyes and i know many tricks and i know the bad magic I have such strange eyes and i know many tricks Then dressing up for halloween I dare not speak its name, and I wonder Who will survive? A on the way to the party I ask myself “is this insensitive” Who will survive? Who will survive? I have such strange eyes and i know many tricks and i know the bad magic I have such strange eyes and i know many tricks Who will survive when objectives are internalised, case by case, brick by brick Who will survive? Build a museum that speaks of suffering at a site of unspeakable wealth Who will survive? Who will survive? When we take a good hard look at what we gone and did who will survive?
8.
Candidate breathes a forest The words he ate are tasteless The poetry of fakers There’s nothing here for sale And my Jesus, Jesus is Pale Feast your eyes on the harvest, The dog dirt on the pavement Any man in a carriage Did earn that solid ground The threatening surround There’s nothing here for sale And my Jesus, Jesus is Pale Returning once again To the problem of the present The nowhere of tomorrow A coastal town that’s swallowed Now climbing Golden Mountain There’s nothing here for sale And my Jesus, Jesus is Pale And my Jesus, Jesus is Pale
9.
Where is the black cat who came to town? held the mirror to your thorny crown “you can hustle into virtue what they do not know can’t hurt you” oh oh oh i remember him well and as far as i could tell he wanted everything dead and wanted the sound of silence (or an older world) but with one hand in my slacks i’m sure that nostalgia’s a luxury that I know i can’t afford no no no no no no no no no no no no no no it was lonely on lithium road There was nothing much for company ‘cept the truth that you don’t want to hear everything gets old if you dream of it too long (before it gets cold, move on before it gets cold) so i picked up a hitchhiking man with a face just like a whisky cask and some sugar coated memories And the distance of a folk tale in his eyes But they’re not coming back those days Aren't coming back no no no no no no no no no no no no no no it’s an impenetrable mystery In the purgatory of uncertainty hard to ape a strong sycamore stance when you’re stuck to the same phantom ground that you’ve always been out of time like you’ve always been but today i ain’t complaining i’ve got that outlaw feeling of the hunter turned the hunted now crossing the only frontier that i’ve ever known Sorry black cat I’m going on
10.
Good morning from the physical works Disoriented, still in the physical world, can’t pack up and go The pilgrimage does not exist Only in a dream Only as a myth To remember as we stumble through another day Tangier, shine on the nothing new No unexpected gifts Wait for a confidence man Hear out his false promises I remember desire, a hard left hook that shook and dazed The same hands that were gifted it lost it all And Donald warm with god, strange as it sounds I see the back of him in dreams where teeth fall out Saudade, the slow winding hours, hard scrabble days Too long spent awake in one face But it's hard to shake the feeling I was sold a lie And I’m not in for the money, not at all I wouldn’t want that life The pageant forever, whatever that means The saddest love that blasts through the plaster and brick I’m all out for life and all life has to give Soft hot fur you give far more than you receive I don’t deserve you, and you don’t deserve me Play it again! The sombrero Then play it for me one last time Then pass the torch onto stubborn hands Altamira can we every repay that debt? Who owns the paradise when there’s no paradise left Midas the evangelist for a green gold rush He is a thief He is trouble Is he one of us? Play a trick of the mind - it’s not enough Stand in an ivory tower - it’s not enough Behold a rich man’s drive Renounce the glamour of evil - it’s not enough Invent a temple and fine words - it’s not enough Amphetamine pastor - It’s not enough Thieves, grifters and rascals - it’s not enough Golden mountain here I come

about

When 2020 ground to a halt, it could have been the end for Savage Mansion. With an album release (the critically acclaimed Weird Country) overshadowed by a state of collective panic, a litany of cancelled tour dates, and plans not so much put on the backburner as thrown out the window of a van, somewhere between Glasgow and Birmingham.

Instead, with the excellent Golden Mountain, Here I Come, Savage Mansion have doubled down, solidifying their reputation as one of Scotland’s (and the UK’s) most prolific emerging guitar bands and as a hardworking collective drawing from a diverse palette of musical and literary influences. Re-emerging as a five-piece with Craig Angus (vocals, guitar), Andrew Macpherson (guitar), Beth Chalmers (keys), Jamie Dubber (bass) and Lewis Orr (drums), Golden Mountain, Here I Come is a record that’s hook-laden, poignant, and cryptic. It’s indie rock that’s both an instant feast for the senses and a rich tapestry of sounds and words to pore over and savour.

‘It could be our first record as a band,’ says Angus. ‘In many ways it is, to the extent that we toyed with changing the name of the band. But you forget it's a fucking pain naming a band in the first place, so we stuck with it.

Recorded with the band’s live engineer Ross McGowan (Kaputt, Dananananaykroyd) at Chime Studio in Glasgow, the more collaborative of the band’s third album is palpable. ‘It was the first record we made with Beth on keys,’ Angus says, ‘so there were five people actively having a say about musical direction, whereas in the past the songs were 80 to 90% fully formed before they got to rehearsal rooms. We reworked a lot of the songs beyond recognition this time. I had to let go of a lot of the expectations I had, and it’s a stronger body of work as a consequence, more adventurous.’

It’s that spirit that’s interwoven throughout the record, starting with the album title. Taken from a line in the first completed song ‘Jesus Is Pale’, Angus comments on the idea behind the name. ‘It was something that came to me at work one day, I used to scrawl ideas on bits of paper as I went about my business, and the idea of ‘now climbing golden mountain’ appealed to me looking back through notes. It felt a little bit like something you’d find in sci-fi or fantasy fiction maybe. And I like the idea of a destination or landmark being the centrepiece of a work. Like the way Dylan used Highway 61 as a frame to explore a specific time.’

The album began life as a fictional travelogue, still evident on the ‘The Black Cat’ where a surreal hitchhiking narrative is weaved over a musical soundscape that’s influenced by krautrock grooves as much as country sensibilities. ‘Over time golden mountain became a placeholder for something else,’ Angus says, ‘a looser destination, sometimes a physical place, sometimes a mental state. I think a lot of that was to do with being confined to one room, more or less, for months on end. You’re living in this stasis, with no real grasp on how long it’ll last, so a lot of living becomes imagined.’

The themes are apparent from the off. Opening track and lead single ‘Life More Abundant’ rolls like a runaway train, all chugging guitars and rapid vocal delivery, as an energised narrator thrillingly rejects tired conventions and seeks a new way of life. In the funk inspired standout ‘The Crucible’, which feels as much indebted to James Brown as it is garage rock, the central character rediscovers their own agency in real time. By the rousing climax of ‘Plans’, a full on revolt is brewing.

It’s a fresh musical direction for the group too, a new wave sound inspired by The B52s and Elvis Costello as much as the garage rock Parquet Courts and The Replacements. Saxophone and clarinet are supplied courtesy of Stephen ‘Sweet Baboo’ Black (Cate Le Bon, Aldous Harding). ‘We worked on the arrangements together over zoom, back when leaving the house was still a rare thing,’ says Angus. ‘I’m not sure we’d have tried working remotely like that in normal times, so I’m oddly grateful for the strange circumstances. His playing really lifts everything, and it’s hard to imagine the album without those contributions, now.’

Golden Mountain, Here I Come is a triumphant comeback from Savage Mansion. While the new material features the same razor-sharp songwriting, melodic intertwining guitars and close harmonies, it's the artistic focus that elevates the band to a whole new level. The DIY, lo-fi ethos remains but the ambition is undimmed, the output infectious.


1. Life More Abundant
2. Football Weather
3. The Crucible
4. Plans
5. There’s No Love (Delete Yourself)
6. The Custom
7. Tricks
8. Jesus Is Pale
9. Black Cat
10. On Golden Mountain

credits

released February 25, 2022

Engineered by Ross McGowan at Chime Studio, Glasgow
Produced by Ross McGowan and Savage Mansion
Mixed by Ross McGowan
Mastered by Steven Ward

Craig Angus - Lead Vocals, Guitars
Beth Chalmers - Keys, Vocals
Jamie Dubber, Bass, Vocals
Andrew Macpherson - Guitars, Lap Steel
Lewis Orr - Drums, Percussion

Stephen Black - Saxophone, Clarinet
Taylor Stewart - Vocals on 'Life More Abundant' and 'On Golden Mountain'

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Savage Mansion Glasgow, UK

A band from Glasgow.

The Shakes, released February 2024 via Lost Map Records

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