Trash Palace has released one album, "Positions", which is a catalogue of electro-rock in various different shades, from Sneaker Pimps-stealthy to Prodigy-pulsating.
Alison Shaw of Cranes lends her unmistakeable voice to "Your Sweet Love". John Cale opts for a spoken- word approach on "The Insult", narrating a piece of erotic fiction in his wonderful Welsh accent. The biggest selling point, however, is Placebo's Brian Molko who, on "The Metric System", tells the tale of a well-endowed rock god who markets his sperm like drugs. "Bad Girl" has been picked up by Sprite for one of their saucy TV commercials in Argentina.
The Insult
Trash Palace Lyrics
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There were mirrors two metres tall, with frames that seemed to have spent a century under the sea (I watched the two of us, shadows moving past the glass).
We decided not to go to bed, not yet.
We crept back to the drawing-room instead and poured ourselves some drinks.
She told me what she thought when she first saw me. She said I was like ice, the way my eyes just kind of slid over the top of everything. Her included.
'I didn't notice you,' I said, 'I mean, not right away.'
'And then you did?'
'Your elbow. It was touching mine.'
I heard a siren in the distance. The sudden urgency seemed exaggerated, lonely, even pitiful, in the deep silence that surrounded it. Later, as we climbed the stairs, she told me it excited her, knowing that I couldn't see. She said it was better.
'Better?' I didn't understand.
'Men can be so brutal,' she said. 'Looking at your tits or your ankles, telling you what's wrong with them.'
'They wouldn't say that to you,' I said, 'not the way you look.'
'I'm not good-looking, I never was.'
'You must be joking,' I said. And then, 'You are to me.'
She laughed softly.
It was dark in the bedroom. I watched her lift her blouse over her head.
Her face was hidden temporarily; her stomach muscles hollowed, stretched.
I undressed quickly.
My clothes fell to the floor.
Then she was pushing me gently back on to the bed.
I watched her lower her body on to mine, her nipples touching me first - my thighs, my hips, my ribs.
I ran my tongue down the centre of her, through the sudden growth of hair, to where the skin delicately parted, to where it started tasting different. I saw the damp trail that I had left behind on her, and thought for a moment of my father. It was a strange time to be thinking of him.
'What is it?' she murmured.
'Nothing.'
She was looking at me over her breasts, her eyes half-closed.
She had a triumphant expression on her face, almost greedy, as if we were playing a game and she was winning. Her breathing shortened and accelerated. 'I think I'm turning into a man,' she said.
I looked up at her again.
'My clitoris,' she said. 'I get erections.'
It wasn't an exaggeration. There was such wetness when she came, the sheet beneath that part of her was soaked.
All night I lay beside her while she slept.
I watched her turn over, brush her face with the back of her hand. I saw how she gathered the corner of a blanket in one fist, and brought it up below her chin. I listened to her murmur, lick her lips. Sometimes I thought I was imagining it all.
When I heard the clock downstairs strike five I left the bed.
After I'd dressed I wrote the name of my hotel and the number of my room on a piece of paper. I thought for a moment, then, underneath, I wrote, 'Ice melts'.
Outside, it was almost light. I was in the north of the city, out near the woods
The song "The Insult" by Trash Palace tells the story of a sexual encounter between two people, Nina and the singer. The setting is a large, old house that smells of oil. The singer and Nina decide not to go to bed yet, but instead return to the drawing-room to pour themselves some drinks. As they talk, Nina tells the singer that she was initially intimidated by him, describing him as "like ice" because of his cold demeanor. The two eventually end up in bed together, with the singer watching as Nina undresses and they have sex. The singer reflects on his father while performing oral sex on Nina, and as the night wears on, they eventually fall asleep together.
The lyrics are rich in sensory detail, painting a vivid picture of the setting and the emotions of the characters. The mention of the mirrors in the house, which have frames that appear to have spent a century underwater, suggests a sense of timelessness and of being trapped in the past. Meanwhile, the references to scent (the smell of oil, the taste of Nina's skin) add a layer of sensuality to the story.
Overall, the song explores themes of desire, intimacy, and vulnerability. The singer's cold exterior masks a deep well of emotion, while Nina's willingness to share her own insecurities and desires creates a sense of intimacy between them. The act of sex itself is portrayed as a deeply intimate, almost spiritual experience, with the singer reflecting on his father and Nina describing her own physical responses.
Line by Line Meaning
Nina took my hand and led me through the house, a huge old place that smelled of the oil they used for heating it.
Nina guided me through a large, old mansion that had a scent of oil used to warm the structure.
There were mirrors two metres tall, with frames that seemed to have spent a century under the sea (I watched the two of us, shadows moving past the glass).
I observed shadows move past the reflections of Nina and me in old, sea-worn, two-meter tall mirrors.
We decided not to go to bed, not yet.
Instead of sleeping, we opted to remain awake.
We crept back to the drawing-room instead and poured ourselves some drinks.
Quietly, we returned to the drawing-room to make drinks.
She told me what she thought when she first saw me. She said I was like ice, the way my eyes just kind of slid over the top of everything. Her included.
Nina conveyed her initial thoughts upon encountering me - that I was akin to ice, with my eyes appearing to sweep over everything, including her.
'I didn't notice you,' I said, 'I mean, not right away.'
I shared with Nina that I didn't notice her presence immediately.
'And then you did?'
She inquired further if I eventually noticed her.
'Your elbow. It was touching mine.'
I informed her that I noticed her only when our elbows touched.
'I had to do something.'
Nina explained to me that she had purposely touched my elbow to get my attention.
I heard a siren in the distance. The sudden urgency seemed exaggerated, lonely, even pitiful, in the deep silence that surrounded it. Later, as we climbed the stairs, she told me it excited her, knowing that I couldn't see. She said it was better.
As a siren blared off in the distance, Nina confided that she found it stimulating that I was unable to see, and that the sound of the siren was intensified due to the silence.
'Better?' I didn't understand.
I was unsure what Nina meant by 'better.'
'Men can be so brutal,' she said. 'Looking at your tits or your ankles, telling you what's wrong with them.'
Nina expressed her distaste for men who objectify women's body parts and critique them
'They wouldn't say that to you,' I said, 'not the way you look.'
I assured Nina that such remarks would not be made towards her due to her appearance.
'I'm not good-looking, I never was.'
Nina disagreed with my belief in her physical attraction.
'You must be joking,' I said. And then, 'You are to me.'
I told Nina my honest belief that she was indeed attractive.
She laughed softly.
Nina chuckled with a gentle tone.
It was dark in the bedroom. I watched her lift her blouse over her head.
Her face was hidden temporarily; her stomach muscles hollowed, stretched.
I undressed quickly.
My clothes fell to the floor.
As we went into the bedroom, Nina removed her blouse, hiding her face, while I swiftly undressed and dropped my clothes to the floor.
Then she was pushing me gently back on to the bed.
I watched her lower her body on to mine, her nipples touching me first - my thighs, my hips, my ribs.
Nina gently pushed me onto the bed and lowered her physique onto mines, with her nipples touching various parts of me first, such as my ribs or hips.
I ran my tongue down the centre of her, through the sudden growth of hair, to where the skin delicately parted, to where it started tasting different. I saw the damp trail that I had left behind on her, and thought for a moment of my father. It was a strange time to be thinking of him.
I remember tracing my tongue from the center downwards of Nina's body, where a sudden growth of hair appeared along with a change in skin flavor. An odd remembrance of my father occurred as I observed the damp remnants of my actions on her body.
'What is it?' she murmured.
'Nothing.'
She was looking at me over her breasts, her eyes half-closed.
She had a triumphant expression on her face, almost greedy, as if we were playing a game and she was winning. Her breathing shortened and accelerated. 'I think I'm turning into a man,' she said.
Nina inquired if there was anything wrong with me, but I denied any worries. With her eyes half-open and greedy expression on her face, Nina mentioned feeling like she was turning into a man as her breathing grew heavier.
I looked up at her again.
'My clitoris,' she said. 'I get erections.'
It wasn't an exaggeration. There was such wetness when she came, the sheet beneath that part of her was soaked.
Nina revealed that she gets erections in her clitoris, which was not an exaggeration. The intense arousal made that area of the sheet soaking wet.
All night I lay beside her while she slept.
I watched her turn over, brush her face with the back of her hand. I saw how she gathered the corner of a blanket in one fist, and brought it up below her chin. I listened to her murmur, lick her lips. Sometimes I thought I was imagining it all.
Throughout the night, I remained adjacent to Nina, and observed her tossing and turning, brushing her face and murmuring, scrunching the blanket in her fist and bringing it up to her chin. I wondered if any of it was my imagination.
When I heard the clock downstairs strike five I left the bed.
After I'd dressed I wrote the name of my hotel and the number of my room on a piece of paper. I thought for a moment, then, underneath, I wrote, 'Ice melts'.
Outside, it was almost light. I was in the north of the city, out near the woods
Upon hearing the clock at five, I left the bed and swiftly dressed before writing my hotel name and room number on paper. After reflection, I added 'Ice melts' at the bottom. It was almost dawn outside, and I was in a northerly part of the woods.
Contributed by Dylan F. Suggest a correction in the comments below.