Men With Day Jobs
Men with Day Jobs




10 TWO
14 REFUGEE (For Mercy’s Sake)

ROD CRUNDWELL: keyboards, bass, electric guitar, card embosser, vocals

PAUL FENTON: drums, electric guitar, harmonica, pool brushes, vocals

STAFFORD SANDERS: acoustic and electric guitars, djembe, stapler, vocals

Just as AFL finally won Sydney, so has Back Pocket Records – in the form of Men With Day Jobs. The Sin City trio’s first eponymous CD, five years in the making (well, that’s day jobs for you!) draws from diverse influences in pop, rock, blues, funk, folk, groove, country, surf music and more. Strong vocal harmonies and sharp lyrics range from the socially savvy to the personally passionate with detours via the queer and quirky. The group’s name is a reminder of long-gone days when the boys made the usual mistake – never again. See bonus nostalgic photo… hey, that’s not Back Pocket stalwart Ken S in bad 70s blond curls is it?

1 UPBEAT (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / S.Sanders)
On Bondi Beach one morning Paul was greeted by the spectacle of a statuesque woman doing yoga on the sand. His interest in physical health was much heightened - though he insists there was nothing sexual in it.

You are a revelation, stretching out on the sand / You set the dawn-pulse racing, to the reach of your hand

Livin’ life on the upbeat, just a pace off the main street

Makin’ moves to the new light, takin’ space on the in-sight, livin’... to the beat of your heart

You’re pure imagination, elegant, self-possessed / You make the moves look easy - must admit, I’m impressed

Livin’ life on the upbeat, just a pace off the mean, mean street

Takin’ breath to the wave-time, makin’ salutes to the sunshine, livin’… to the beat of your heart

Lookin’ for life on the upbeat, with you by my side / Lockin’ into the backbeat, keep you satisfied…

You are an inspiration, you work it out so strong / While on the treadmill daily, we all sleepwalk along

Livin’ life on the upbeat…

2 IN THE SHADOWS OF GIANTS (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / T.Latimore / S.Sanders)
Stafford in anthemic overdrive on environment and heritage. Might as well be a tree-hugger while there are still a few of them left. Thanks to legendary a capella -fella Tom Bridges for some vocal harmony ideas.

In the deepest lost valley, the trees stand untamed - mighty giants, unbridled by saw, axe or flame

Still unbent and unbroken through years without name - when the world was one forest, they stood here

Here the great clock ticks slowly, time under a spell - in a long morning here, Greece and Rome rose and fell

In the silence and shadow, the air seems to swell , with the echoes of eons resounding

Deep in the stillness, it’s clear where we stand: at the edge of a wisdom beyond our command

Feel the once and forever that grows in this land / In the shadows of giants we’re walking

Under layers of leaves on the dark forest floor, lie the footprints of those who have walked here before

Giant creatures that tramped with a thunderous roar - and the people who held this place holy

Deep in the stillness….

In a time bound to come when the last trees are down, Who will follow this path through a land cracked and brown? Will they stare at our footprints in wonder, and frown… and think "Oh, how the mighty are fallen"?

Deep in the stillness….

Feel the once and forever we hold in our hand / In the shadows of giants we’re walking

3 FRAGILE EYES (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / S.Sanders / M.White)
This Bird Has Flown (here literally) and Man Copes Badly in departure lounge. Rod’s power-pop crooning is boosted by some nice melody lines from our singer friend Michelle White.

My fragile eyes stare out to sea / Soft hazy skies took you away from me

Mixed emotions wash over me, as I wait in the gate lounge till it’s too dark to see

If I close my eyes, I feel I can reach out and touch you

I’m a ghost in disguise, and all I wanna be, is be there with you…

My fragile eyes stare at the moon / Restless hearts fly away too soon

You shrugged and smiled and you played with your hair / "Be strong", you said, "and I might still be there"

If I was a strongman, I’d stand up and fight this despair

But I’m not the Superman kind, and all I wanna be, is be there with you...

My fragile eyes can’t be concealed / Life goes on, but you feel what you feel

As I drift through a dream world, one thing I know must be real

When I look to the future, all I wanna see, is you in my eyes… my fragile eyes ....

4 EVEN BOWERBIRDS GET THE BLUES (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / T.Latimore / S.Sanders)
Tony’s treatise on the peculiar nesting habits of the male Satin Bowerbird, set to the bleedin’ obvious musical genre with mandatory blues harp and Dr John piano. Apologies to Tom Robbins for the title.

Everybody knows that the bowerbird (the male of the species, that is)

Labours hour by hour to prettify his bower, making very certain that the grandest in the biz… is his

The bowerbird’s a keen decorator, single-minded in what he’ll pursue

And though it sounds bizarre, all his objects d’art

They have this thing in common when it gets down to their hue: they’re all blue

What a mixed-up bird is the bowerbird, his behaviour is bound to confuse

He thinks nothing is duller than any other colour - and the only time he’s happy is when he’s got the blues

The bowerbird has no time for purple - or crimson or scarlet, it’s true

He’s not the kind of fellow to ornament with yellow

Or black or green - only aquamarine to navy, and all points through… the spectrum of blue

The bowerbird’s a blues collector - and you could say he’s paid his dues

‘Cause he’ll decry as B-Grade what isn’t sky-or-sea-shade, and he’s only really happy

When he’s up to his neck in the blues… the Bowerbird Blues

5 SHOULDA BEEN HERE YESTERDAY (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / S.Sanders)
Line from the 60s surfpic Endless Summer - this old surfie missing more than just the waves. A small tribute to Brian Wilson et al. Rod can’t actually surf to save his life, but we have seen him Wiped Out more than once.

I went down to the sandy shore / Back to the beach that I knew before

Out the back where the big sets roar / But it’s not the same, it’s a different game

The beach party is a brand name ball / They paved paradise, and put up a fast food hall / They just took it all

We never knew the sky was wearing thin / We didn’t see the sharks closing in

We felt the undertow drag us down / Ah, we shoulda been here yesterday

Crazy paving on the boulevarde / But every crooked step is way too hard

Every twist and turn a mystery / To a blonde like me

We never thought the sun would slip away / Wiped out by a Brave New Day

We saw the tidal wave way too late / Ah, we shoulda been here yesterday

Surf’s down, now we turn the page / Endless Summer of a Greenhouse Age

Burning slow / Ah, why did we let it go? / Ah, we shoulda been here yesterday….

6 OASIS (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / T.Latimore / S.Sanders)
Boy seeks-finds-loses-seeks girl in sandy setting. It dropped neatly into a moody marimba and djembe groove which was also seeking a home. The result is definitely not a tribute to Liam Gallagher.

I chanced on her in dry and lonely climes

I thought she was mirage, as she had been the other times / She was.... Oasis

She soothed me with her milk and honeyed balm

And brought the gift of peace, an echo of her calm / Her secret places / Oh, oh, Oasis

Though lost again, with desert round me still

I stumble on alone, for over some next hill / She waits.... Oasis

7 MOTHER ENGLAND (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / T.Latimore / S.Sanders)
We started this "lament" for the Old Country in the 80s and revived it with more modern misdeeds. Along the way it pays musical homage to Brit pop –XTC, Who, Squeeze and a bit of wotever yer fancy.

It’s a sad sad story, Mother England / But I fear you stayed abroad too long

It’s a sad sad story, Mother England – things have all gone wrong

They all bowed low before Your Highness / But we know that empires rise and fall

It’s a sad sad story, Mother England – now you’ve lost it all

Once half the world was in your hands / You sucked the life from foreign lands

You ruled the waves and waived the rules

Then all at once your sun went down / They plucked the jewel back from your crown

And left you standing there like fools, fools, fools…

And now there’s a whole new generation / Who don’t respect the Union Jack

It’s a sad sad story, Mother England – now you can’t turn back

Whatever happened to the Land of Hope and Glory? / Still rattling your sabre near and far

You were born to rule, now you can’t even fool… Britannia / Fool Britannia…

8 THE GREAT DIVIDE (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / T.Latimore / S.Sanders)
Tony would call this a touching topographical metaphor – being one of them erudite bastards. We set his wistful words to a melody which floats in, lingers for a bit, then drifts away again out of reach (sigh!).

The things I should have said to you, I kept inside / They were not things for shouting, across the Great Divide

I thought I gave some truth to you; you think I lied / My truth was lost in emptiness, across the Great Divide

I felt my love flow out to you / I sent my heart to be my guide

Hoped it would find a path towards you, across the Great Divide

But we are all so far apart, the gap is wide / Lonely strangers in the distance, across the Great Divide

9 DROP ME A LINE (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / S.Sanders)
The modern office goes to some lengths to make the computers talk to each other - so the people don’t have to. This guy carries the principle well into his personal life. Paul is so laid back here, he’s barely breathing.

I got your last communication / Re our most recent conversation

I understand your consternation / But think about mine

It might be my imagination (but I fear) / Could be a messy complication (we’ve got here)

Can’t really break my concentration (this time of year) / So drop me a line

Why don’t you… drop me a line / And I could get back to you sometime

Maybe your people could talk to mine / And we could work something out

Don’t mean to cause a confrontation (but you see) / I have this minor reservation (re you and me)

Your immature infatuation (won’t let me be) / Wasting my time / Why don’t you… drop me a line…

So let’s get past this altercation (such a shame) / Help find a win/win situation (play my game)

Just tell the kids I’m no relation (change your name) / And drop me a line

Why don’t you… drop me a line…

10 TWO (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / S.Sanders)
Stafford’s celebration of chalk and cheese in funk mode. A.A.Milne’s Piglet said it best: "It’s much more fun with two." We like to think of this one as catchy – though it’s been pointed out that so is cholera.

You shoot straight, I dance round / We get up, and down / You stay young, I’m born old / We blow hot, and cold

But we know... Two hearts can beat together / Two minds can shake it down

Two lives can be so much better / Than life all alone with the mad world raging round

I want still, you want loud / We need space, and crowd / You move fast, I go slow / We get high, and so low

But we know... Two dreams can linger longer / Two flames can be twice as bright

Two hands can hold on stronger / Here with a touch and a spark on a cold dark night

You think this, I know that / We live lean, we grow fat / I get dark... you want light / We go wrong, and so right

But we know... Two hearts can beat together…

11 FRIENDLY FIRE (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / T.Latimore / S.Sanders)
Passion goes critical as we lurch deep into country tearjerk terrain. Casting for rhymes, we found "inferno" rhymed with "Kernot" – but couldn’t find a rhyme for "Gareth", so that was best left alone.

On a cold night in a slow street, by the flicker of a broken neon light

Caught your glance of invitation, softly smould’ring like an ember in the night

I was drawn to the fire in your eyes… blazing bright

From a discontented winter, I took shelter in your welcoming glow

Striking flint above your tinder, sending sparks against the darkness and the snow

Breathing life on the heat of a fire… burning slow

Friendly fire / drew me in from the frost

Between the darkness and desire / I found your flame… and I was lost

Barely mindful of the danger, never heeding all love’s lessons we had learned

Fanning flame into inferno, in the heat of wild abandon we burned

We ignored every warning in sight / As we poured on the petrol full-flight

Till it seemed all the world was alight… no return

Friendly fire / Raging out of control

Lost in our all-consuming pyre / Destroyed by a flame… too hot to hold

Friendly fire / Back in this No Man’s Land

Between the wasteland and the wire / Trying my best to understand… friendly fire

12 CRUISING IN FULL COLOUR (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / S.Sanders)
A motor magazine cover inspired this cheerful ditty of coming to terms and getting a (new) life. Kind of Oh Darling in glitter. Just for the record, Rod isn’t - but some of his best friends are.

I was wasting my time / The weight of the world on my mind

Now I’m out of the darkness, and into the light / Gonna be different this time

I was waiting to be / Looking for love to set me free

Now I’m out of the backroom, and onto the street / No more disasters for me

Now I’m cruising in full colour / Wishing the night would never end

Cruising in full colour / Back in the bright lights again / Again and again

I was living under a cloud / Now I’m dancing and singing out loud

No more deception, I am what I am / Open and carefree and proud

‘Cause I’m cruising… in full colour / Wishing the night would never end

Cruising in full colour / Back in the nightlife again

13 GET INTO THE CAR AND GO (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / S.Sanders)
Paul’s enigmatic tale of turbulent tourist romance among the historic and tide-swept Normandy cliffs. Mind you, he thinks Victor Hugo was that hunchback who founded the Huguenots.

I’ll keep a weather eye out for you / I’ll seem to know just what to do

Up on Saint Michel, to the battlements we flew

The walls were calling out to me / In voices of antiquity

That all the love we’d make, would set us free to start anew

We shouldn’t have to try so hard, easier to go with the flow

Before we are stranded here, we could get into the car and go

Racing on before the tide / As sun and moon kiss and collide

Crescents on our path, flanked by conquest overgrown

Where Hugo dreamed of ageless beauty / You go dreaming aimless need

Every mad mistake, a pointless contest of our own

We shouldn’t have to run so fast, easier to stand where we know

Before we are swept away, we could get into the car and go / Get into the car and go with you…

14 REFUGEE (For Mercy’s Sake) (R.Crundwell / P.Fenton / S.Sanders)
If they’re seeking "asylum" here, they’ve obviously come to the right place. Sing along with Stafford against the xenophobic madness. Thanks to our mate (and guitar legend) Colin Watson for a nice pre-mastering job.

Knock, knock! Is there anybody home? / I’m waiting on your doorstep, so tired and alone

I have run through the fire, and braved the stormy sea

Lost home and friends and family, to change my destiny

Now I stand at the shore of a new world / Put your hand to the door, turn the key

I am one in your millions / I have come so far to be free

I am the voice in every wilderness / Crying, For mercy’s sake help me… Refugee

You have a green and golden land / The sun of boundless fortune lights up your shining sand

and they say that your people are quick to understand

and when someone’s in trouble, you’ll lend a friendly hand

So what’s this I hear about "security"? / What could you have to fear from me?

I am one in your millions… / For mercy’s sake help me, a lonely refugee…