Since minting his Woe to the Septic Heart! imprint in 2010, Shackleton's output has become considerably more colourful, going through a resurrection of sorts. This is especially evident in his massive Music for the Quiet Hour / The Drawbar Organ triple LP, in which he infuses bright organ tones into his longstanding brand of mystical minimal techno, replete with incessant polyrhythms, cavernous sound design, and vocal manipulation reminiscent of the early phasing experiments of Steve Reich.
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Woe to the Septic Heart - Discogs
The Rope Tightens...
Shackleton Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Real-time bassline reality check up topside as the brotherhood of hawks push the new fascist line.
Dread times, and the people sleeping on their feet,
Breaking up in fragments, they explode in this heat.
Discrete endevours meet with the troglodytes beneath the street,
With the faceless, nameless menace of the Mastermind elite.
Subterranean, white-eyed mushroom types,
As centuries of water and light trickle through cocoon-strata of racing data,
And the cellular fleet ignite.
On the street, bright display, head down fossil straight lines in decay,
Urban regeneration complete.
And a nameless force regards each life as imperfection
And monitors the screen
Of red and green,
Money sucked up the flag in a corporate reality-dream.
And the last egg is crushed for planned extinction
And the reshaping of Earth for the hidden invasion.
* * *
New conquests, living-room beachheads
got the frontline broadcasting in thousands of watts,
In wires and cables,
In ceiling pipes, television, electric lights and kettles.
Somebody left a pot on the boil,
Somebody raped the soil,
Doused and drowned her life in sheets of oil.
Somebody profited from all this toil,
Pocketed the loot,
But when they scoot
Through their final escape-velocity
Violent hypocrisy won't have a parachute.
Somebody put the boot in.
Somebody got accused of sin.
Somebody dropped a lit fag in the bin.
Green flame explodes.
A man with a sign saying "repent" looks to the winter sky and invites the visitors in.
Winter sin got a grin like a billy-goat
Covered in a semen-stained overcoat
But the works of the good god essentialise the note
Dying in the back of his throat:
Unspoken Word of the Aeon to come,
Black as molasses, as nuclear bomb,
As the blood in the septic heart of the brave new world to come,
Unconditional love come with death to each and every one.
Transcend stasis with the viral basis of time and meaning
To wield your feelings and build reality,
Invent the word "free" and divide up the races.
Black-plumed bearers of the State will march solemnly
As you are deposited beneath the concrete slab,
Weighed down with apathy and faces.
"Don't mourn me, organise!", you say, text-message mirrored in reptile eyes,
In ultraterrestrial, illuminate eyes
Full of schemes and duplicities.
"So nothing is what is seems after all", you surmise.
No fucking surprise.
* * *
We sidle up to the screen of red, gold and green,
Subvert and turn the tables on the American dream.
Big down the red, white and blue, I got news for you,
The flag I wave is black when I come through, know what I mean?
Know what I mean, bruv?
No love
In what they're showing,
Talking about the static mein of a roving reporter
Shouting disorder
The media machine's the discorder.
Dammed up the dynamite
Locked up tight
It will ignite
I incite
The ne'er-do-well and freeloader.
With my autoloader, Shackleton bring the musical flavor,
Cutting through the bonds of death like a light sabre,
As they're carving up Africa at the whims of shareholders.
Unspoken Word of the Aeon to come,
Black as molasses, as nuclear bomb,
As the blood in the septic heart of the brave new world to come,
Unconditional love come with death to each and every one.
Transcend stasis with the viral basis of time and meaning
To wield your feelings and build reality,
Invent the word "free" and divide up the races.
Black-plumed bearers of the State will march solemnly
As you are deposited beneath the concrete slab,
Weighed down with apathy and faces.
"Don't mourn me, organise!", you say, text-message mirrored in reptile eyes,
In ultraterrestrial, illuminate eyes full of schemes and duplicities.
"So nothing is what is seems, after all", you surmise.
No fucking surprise.
* * *
Ghost train moving down the track, heading back
To a time before control was perfected;
I'll get collected
And composed
So when my people fight back
No one will be able to predict the mantis attack!
Where is the marvel we're waiting for? States at war.
Got to subvert, open up a back door.
Lockdown coming in this prison that we paid for;
Now we find we're on the wrong side of the door.
Do what you like, the prole
Can be a rich man;
Bring the general strike
And penetrate to where the mind sees through wrong and right, like skiagraphia,
Just a shadow-play,
So waking up means more than Indy(a)media can say,
So viral control of the way
We perceive the everyday;
New revelation of the soul when you hear me say
Got no time in my life for brainwash today.
I clean out my perceptions just like Rinse fm,
I got to penetrate reality and see myself,
My friend.
Shackleton's song, "The Rope Tightens," is a complex piece that speaks to many issues plaguing society, including the rise of fascism, control by the elite, and the degradation of the environment. Throughout the song, he paints a picture of a world in which people are sleepwalking through their lives, being controlled by faceless, nameless forces that only seek to profit at their expense. The opening lines of the song describe an Orchid chorus that glides through the streets as electric beams criss-cross seams of the slipstream. This image speaks to the way that society is being manipulated by unseen forces and cut off from nature.
The song moves on to describe the spread of fascism, with the brotherhood of hawks pushing a new fascist line. Shackleton describes the people sleeping on their feet, breaking up in fragments, and exploding in the heat. Discrete endeavours meet with the troglodytes beneath the street, with the faceless, nameless menace of the Mastermind elite. This section of the song highlights how people are being divided and conquered by those in power.
The final part of the song turns to a call to arms, urging people to resist the powers that be and fight for their own freedom. Shackleton speaks of transcendence, of wielding your feelings and building your own reality, and of dividing up the races. He calls on us to wake up and see through the lies, to fight for a better world and to reject the brainwashing of the media. Overall, "The Rope Tightens" is a powerful and thought-provoking song that calls on us to take action and stand up for what we believe in.
Line by Line Meaning
Orchid chorus glides blithely through the streets as electric beams criss-cross seams of the slipstream
Nature flourishes around us as technology permeates our world.
Real-time bassline reality check up topside as the brotherhood of hawks push the new fascist line.
We must confront the oppressive forces of ideology and power at play.
Dread times, and the people sleeping on their feet,
We are living in a time of fear and complacency.
Breaking up in fragments, they explode in this heat.
Under pressure, society fractures and erupts.
Discrete endevours meet with the troglodytes beneath the street,
Individual efforts combine with underground resistance.
With the faceless, nameless menace of the Mastermind elite.
We fight against an anonymous, powerful enemy.
Subterranean, white-eyed mushroom types,
Those who resist the system are unseen, like mushrooms in the dark.
Human fungus clings to wires and pipes,
Nonconformists cling to the infrastructure of society in unseen ways.
As centuries of water and light trickle through cocoon-strata of racing data,
Centuries of information flow through the layers of our technology.
And the cellular fleet ignite.
This information fuels a digital revolution.
On the street, bright display, head down fossil straight lines in decay,
The brightness of technology contrasts with the stagnation and decay of society.
Urban regeneration complete.
The city has undergone a change, but has it improved?
And a nameless force regards each life as imperfection
There is a force that sees individuality as a flaw.
And monitors the screen
This force watches our every move through our technology.
Of red and green,
It sees the world as a binary of control and chaos.
Money sucked up the flag in a corporate reality-dream.
The pursuit of profit has overtaken the values of our society.
And the last egg is crushed for planned extinction
The destruction of our environment is orchestrated for profit.
And the reshaping of Earth for the hidden invasion.
The powerful elite seek to control and dominate the planet.
New conquests, living-room beachheads
Our technological advancements have allowed us to conquer new frontiers.
got the frontline broadcasting in thousands of watts,
Our media has become a powerful tool for controlling information.
In wires and cables,
These messages are carried through our technological infrastructure.
In ceiling pipes, television, electric lights and kettles.
Our everyday objects are all connected to the digital web.
Somebody left a pot on the boil,
Amidst this chaos, someone forgot about the world around them.
Somebody raped the soil,
And someone else exploited the environment for their own gain.
Doused and drowned her life in sheets of oil.
These actions have suffocated the natural world.
Somebody profited from all this toil,
Those in power profited from this exploitation.
Pocketed the loot,
They took the profits for themselves.
But when they scoot
But when the going gets tough,
Through their final escape-velocity
At the moment of their escape,
Violent hypocrisy won't have a parachute.
Their actions will catch up with them.
Somebody put the boot in.
People fight back against this system.
Somebody got accused of sin.
Others are falsely accused of being the problem.
Somebody dropped a lit fag in the bin.
And some make mistakes that have disastrous consequences.
Green flame explodes.
This mistake leads to chaos and destruction.
A man with a sign saying "repent" looks to the winter sky and invites the visitors in.
Amidst this chaos, some look to religion for guidance.
Winter sin got a grin like a billy-goat
Evil revels in the chaos.
Covered in a semen-stained overcoat
Its corruption is apparent.
But the works of the good god essentialise the note
But hope still exists.
Dying in the back of his throat:
But it is a small beacon in a sea of darkness.
Unspoken Word of the Aeon to come,
The future holds an unknown truth.
Black as molasses, as nuclear bomb,
But it may not be a good one.
As the blood in the septic heart of the brave new world to come,
The corruption of humanity will continue.
Unconditional love come with death to each and every one.
But there is a hope for redemption, even in death.
Transcend stasis with the viral basis of time and meaning
We must move beyond our stagnant reality to find true meaning.
To wield your feelings and build reality,
Our emotions and experiences shape our world.
Invent the word "free" and divide up the races.
We must embrace freedom and reject the divisions of society.
Black-plumed bearers of the State will march solemnly
But those in power will fight to maintain the status quo of oppression.
As you are deposited beneath the concrete slab,
And those who resist may be silenced.
Weighed down with apathy and faces.
Trapped in the cycle of oppression.
"Don't mourn me, organise!", you say, text-message mirrored in reptile eyes,
But even in the face of this oppression, we must continue to resist.
In ultraterrestrial, illuminate eyes
We must look beyond our current reality.
Full of schemes and duplicities.
Even in the resistance, there are dangers of corruption and duplicity.
"So nothing is what is seems after all", you surmise.
We must question everything, even our own beliefs.
No fucking surprise.
For the truth is often darker than we expect.
Ghost train moving down the track, heading back
But even as we move forward, we are haunted by the past.
To a time before control was perfected;
Before those in power had perfected their methods of oppression.
I'll get collected
But even in the face of these challenges, I will remain resilient.
And composed
And I will remain in control of my emotions.
So when my people fight back
So that I may be ready to resist.
No one will be able to predict the mantis attack!
No one can predict the power of our resistance.
Where is the marvel we're waiting for? States at war.
But we must ask ourselves, what are we fighting for?
Got to subvert, open up a back door.
We must find a way to resist and undermine the oppressive systems.
Lockdown coming in this prison that we paid for;
But the system is building its own prisons.
Now we find we're on the wrong side of the door.
And we are the ones trapped inside.
Do what you like, the prole
But even in the face of this oppression,
Can be a rich man;
We can still find happiness and fulfillment in our own lives.
Bring the general strike
And we must band together in resistance.
And penetrate to where the mind sees through wrong and right, like skiagraphia,
And we must change the way we see the world.
Just a shadow-play,
For our reality is a mere shadow of the true world.
So waking up means more than Indy(a)media can say,
And coming to this realization means more than any media can express.
So viral control of the way
And we must take control of our own destiny.
We perceive the everyday;
To see the world in a new light.
New revelation of the soul when you hear me say
And in this, we can find a new hope for the human soul.
Got no time in my life for brainwash today.
For we must reject the brainwashing of the oppressive system.
I clean out my perceptions just like Rinse fm,
We must clean out our minds like we would clean out a radio.
I got to penetrate reality and see myself,
To see beyond the illusions created by the system and see the truth.
My friend.
And to build connections with others who share in this realization.
Contributed by Colin H. Suggest a correction in the comments below.