Hyperspace Sound Lab is an extremely rare and important record. The tracks … Read Full Bio ↴Hyperspace Sound Lab is an extremely rare and important record. The tracks found on this release are the first works ever committed to vinyl by James 'Drexciya' Stinson.
James Stinson chose the alias, 'Clarence G' as a reference to an author 'Clarence G. Hamilton' who wrote books regarding music theory and music history. Some of the titles of the books are:
- Epochs in Musical Progress
- Outlines of Music History
- Sound: And Its Relation To Music
- Touch and Expression in Piano Playing
Drexciya, James Stinson, were very secretive in their production techniques and influences, but this is one of many Drexciyan mysteries solved.
James Stinson chose the alias, 'Clarence G' as a reference to an author 'Clarence G. Hamilton' who wrote books regarding music theory and music history. Some of the titles of the books are:
- Epochs in Musical Progress
- Outlines of Music History
- Sound: And Its Relation To Music
- Touch and Expression in Piano Playing
Drexciya, James Stinson, were very secretive in their production techniques and influences, but this is one of many Drexciyan mysteries solved.
sun
Clarence Lyrics
There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of a many poor boy
And me, oh God, for one
Then fill the glasses to the brim
Let the drinks go merrily around
And we'll drink to the health of a rounder poor boy
Who goes from town to town
The only thing that a rounder needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
Now boys, don't believe what a girl tells you
Though her eyes be blue or brown
Unless she's on some scaffold high
Saying, "Boys, I can't come down"
Go tell my youngest brother
Not to do the things I've done
But to shun that house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
I'm going back, back to New Orleans
For my race is nearly run
Gonna spend the rest of my wicked life
Beneath that Rising Sun
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of a many poor boy
And me, oh God, for one
Then fill the glasses to the brim
Let the drinks go merrily around
And we'll drink to the health of a rounder poor boy
Who goes from town to town
The only thing that a rounder needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
Now boys, don't believe what a girl tells you
Though her eyes be blue or brown
Unless she's on some scaffold high
Saying, "Boys, I can't come down"
Go tell my youngest brother
Not to do the things I've done
But to shun that house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
I'm going back, back to New Orleans
For my race is nearly run
Gonna spend the rest of my wicked life
Beneath that Rising Sun
Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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