Lying On a Beach - Joel Plaskett

Viewed 2 times


Print this lyrics Print it!

     
Page format: Left Center Right
Direct link:
BB code:
Embed:

Lying On a Beach Lyrics

Somebody introduced me
To a member of the club
I think that they confused me
With some other rub-a-dub-a-dub
Now, I work on the fifth floor
And nothing is my fault
I take advice like margueritas
With a heavy grain of salt
I always wake up in the night
Wondering if I'm doing it right
And if I had my way
I'd be getting on this flight tonight
And in the morning I'd be
Lying on a beach in the sun
Lying to my family and friends
Telling them that I have begun
Trying to find the means to an end
Lying on a beach in the sun
Lying just to cover my ass
Lying in the sun on the beach
Burning like the girls in the grass

I should be working on my manners
But I'm working on my website
All you star-spangled scanners
Trying to photocopy moonlight
Staring at the computer screen
Feeling so alone and obscene
Getting restless
Getting randy
Getting mean
Lying on a beach in the sun
Looking for a little romance
The temperature's a hundred and one
Everybody take off your pants
Lying on a beach in the sun
Trying to figure out what to do
Lying in the sun on the beach
I realized I did not have a clue

I'm full of hocus pocus
And I'm slower than molasses
I'm coming in and out of focus
Like a magic pair of glasses
I go down to the staff room at lunchtime
I'm like a joke but there's never a punch line
And if you step on my toes I'll blow up just like a landmine
Give me a reason I'll be
Lying on a beach in the sun
Nobody but my money and me
Is this your definition of fun
I'm bored it's only twenty past three (You should go for a swim)
I'll still be clinging to the company line
There's sharks out there I think I saw a fin
Or maybe I'm just losing my mind

Somebody take a memo
We're all on automatic
When I get it back together
We're gonna need a little static
Somebody check my pulse
Slap me in the face
Show me what I'm made of
Get me out of this place
It's like a weird technological dream
Watching buddies turn into machines
We never get our hands dirty
But paradise is never this clean
Come on
Lying on a beach in the sun
Don't want to get burned to a crisp
You want something to remember me by
You can save it on a floppy disk
So long
Farewell
You can kiss my ass goodbye
If I don't jump ship right now
I'll never figure out how to fly

Lyrics provided by LyricsEver.com
Joel Plaskett returns with one of the most diverse and fan-pleasing albums of his career. Proving that he can be all things to everybody, the rock veteran offers up a wide mix of styles on Joel Plaskett and the Park Avenue Sobriety Test. It touches on his solo acoustic side, his guitar rock work with the Emergency, his happy-go-lucky rhyming talents, carefree memories of growing up in Nova Scotia, and a little bit of anger at the forces making life tougher these days. There are many moments that draw on previous classic Plaskett, from beloved albums such as Three and Ashtray Rock, right back to his Thrush Hermit days. And there are new sides to his sounds as well – Joel like you’ve never heard him.

There are plenty of hints as to where his head is at these days – 39 and holding, looking back at how he got there, and ahead past that milestone birthday. Even the title holds a clue in its anagram: Joel Plaskett and the P.A.S.T. You’ll find references to his salad days, like “On A Dime,” which starts with a blast of downhome Celtic fiddle from Cape Breton great J.P. Cormier. Then there’s Plaskett riffing on memories of playing road hockey in the liquor store parking lot, and later, traveling to Memphis with his band Thrush Hermit to make their first album. It’s not truly autobiographical though. These are more observations that have piled up over the last twenty-plus years of being a touring musician, traveling and meeting folks coast to coast to coast, mixing it in with his own life. If anything, it’s the teenager from Ashtray Rock, all grown up.

The P.A.S.T. also refers to the cast of characters that helped make the album. With its wide-ranging sound it’s not a pure Joel Plaskett Emergency effort, although the band appears on more than half the tracks. It’s more like the Emergency-Plus, as lots of familiar faces from previous Plaskett discs are aboard. Longtime Emergency cohorts Dave Marsh – drums and Chris Pennell – bass anchor the rhythm section. Previous group members Tim Brennan and Peter Elkas play on several songs. From Plaskett’s former band Thrush Hermit is old pal Ian McGettigan. Then there are guests, friends and neighbours, such as Cormier, Halifax singer-songwriter Mo Kenney, singer Erin Costelo, and pedal steel player Dale Murray (Christina Martin, Cuff the Duke).

In an era when most albums have the best tracks at the start and then a bunch of also-rans to fill up the quota, Plaskett stubbornly remains a throwback. The consummate music fan, even the album cover is a dead give-away, where he reclines on top of his massive collection of vinyl, no doubt filled with personal treasures and rare gems. Each cut stands alone as a winner, but together, they flow and create a full story. They are as catchy and melodic as his best work, but on Joel Plaskett and the Park Avenue Sobriety Test he’s gone one step further. The sequence is carefully planned, there are little linking bits, connections from one song to the next, one ending planned to segue into the next beginning. There’s a story arc about getting through life’s struggles and blue periods, and dramatic pacing, like a movie script. It starts with the rock, gets a little quieter, more serious and acoustic, then breaks the tension with some classy goofy lyrics (“Song for Jersey”) before wrapping up with the electric big band.

In other words, this is a start-to-finish, must-listen album. You can pick out favourite lines (“When you’re one of a kind, you can’t get on the Ark”), new anthems (the title cut) and take a moment to reflect (“For Your Consideration”). You can marvel at new sides to Plaskett’s work, from the finger-pointing anger of “Captains of Industry,” where he takes on the one percent, ruining lives through trickle-down greed, to the cover of Stephen Foster’s “Hard Times,” a 160-year old protest song that shows times really haven’t changed much at all. It’s a rare album where an artist can lean so much on his P.A.S.T., yet still show a great deal of growth. But after twenty years of music-making mischief, Joel Plaskett never, ever lets you down, and seems to always find ways to get better. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.

View All

Joel Plaskett