Trapped in the skylines of florescent charms, Warm and timid
touches being forced into unnatural acts. Tears turning into
delicate muscles that caress the night wind telling it of the
truth, telling it of the pain. Aren't we all so very human.
Look, look here comes the baddest dude on the block. And I
turn around and see neatly dressed Death walking down the
street. Charming all the grownups with a terrified smile
while handing out chocolate-covered crack lollipops to the
children. Where have all the down studs gone? Long time
passing. Jive whispers from neon lips. Eldorado dreams in
stagnant colors. Rich men dancing with limp dolls in the
luxury of their shame. Their mouths foaming with dead
languages while democratic lies bay at the moon. Why must the
dark ages still play games with us? Blind sprinters lost in a
moment of a peaceful masquerade. Evil is an intruder but why
do we let it in? We have no one to blame but ourselves. We
listen to the rhythm, but we never hear the musicians. We
elevate and praise the wise men but get lost in their wisdom.
We feel the passion and truth of the poets but kill them with
thunderous applause. Is there anything not sacred anymore? Is
there not anything not sacred anymore? Honesty, justice,
freedom. Freedom, justice, honesty. All being devoured by
western imitations of life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness is drowning out the tears of deception. If I ... If
we ... had a power so tender as time maybe then we could wipe
this savage onslaught from our minds. The children dream from
the twilight of indecision. We must make their dreams come
true. Let us begin to talk to the brighter days with our
eyes. The night belongs. to the softness of our hearts. The
new circle is beginning. Will we be there when it ends? We
used to wonder why the ocean danced so childishly before the
eyes of expression. We used to understand why the grass
sighed so mysteriously from the days of winters gone by. Look
back fallen lovers. How far have we come? How much further do
we have to go? Life will never be the same. It may never
again be perfect. It may never again be beautiful. But we
must try at least to make it normal. To be poets and sing
out the joyous resurrection of our minds. To be poets and
charm the emptiness of this anticipation. To be poets and
comfort this gentle grief of our souls. To be poets and bring
sunshine to the mutiny of these meagre days. Peace will dance
with creation in the sadness of our beings and everyone's
uniqueness will fall like rain from the eyes of God is a
friend. The phoenix will come from the flames this time.
There will be no ashes to ashes. Love must be there when the
dust clears! Ally ally outs in free! Ally ally outs in Free!
Trapped in the skylines of florescent charms, Warm and timid
touches being forced into unnatural acts. Tears turning into
delicate muscles that caress the night wind telling it of the
truth, telling it of the pain. Aren't we all so very human.
Look, look here comes the baddest dude on the block. And I
turn around and see neatly dressed Death walking down the
street. Charming all the grownups with a terrified smile
while handing out chocolate-covered crack lollipops to the
children. Where have all the down studs gone? Long time
passing. Jive whispers from neon lips. Eldorado dreams in
stagnant colors. Rich men dancing with limp dolls in the
luxury of their shame. Their mouths foaming with dead
languages while democratic lies bay at the moon. Why must the
dark ages still play games with us? Blind sprinters lost in a
moment of a peaceful masquerade. Evil is an intruder but why
do we let it in? We have no one to blame but ourselves. We
listen to the rhythm, but we never hear the musicians. We
elevate and praise the wise men but get lost in their wisdom.
We feel the passion and truth of the poets but kill them with
thunderous applause. Is there anything not sacred anymore? Is
there not anything not sacred anymore? Honesty, justice,
freedom. Freedom, justice, honesty. All being devoured by
western imitations of life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness is drowning out the tears of deception. If I ... If
we ... had a power so tender as time maybe then we could wipe
this savage onslaught from our minds. The children dream from
the twilight of indecision. We must make their dreams come
true. Let us begin to talk to the brighter days with our
eyes. The night belongs. to the softness of our hearts. The
new circle is beginning. Will we be there when it ends? We
used to wonder why the ocean danced so childishly before the
eyes of expression. We used to understand why the grass
sighed so mysteriously from the days of winters gone by. Look
back fallen lovers. How far have we come? How much further do
we have to go? Life will never be the same. It may never
again be perfect. It may never again be beautiful. But we
must try at least to make it normal. To be poets and sing
out the joyous resurrection of our minds. To be poets and
charm the emptiness of this anticipation. To be poets and
comfort this gentle grief of our souls. To be poets and bring
sunshine to the mutiny of these meagre days. Peace will dance
with creation in the sadness of our beings and everyone's
uniqueness will fall like rain from the eyes of God is a
friend. The phoenix will come from the flames this time.
There will be no ashes to ashes. Love must be there when the
dust clears! Ally ally outs in free! Ally ally outs in Free!
Trapped in the skylines of florescent charms, Warm and timid
touches being forced into unnatural acts. Tears turning into
delicate muscles that caress the night wind telling it of the
truth, telling it of the pain. Aren't we all so very human.
Look, look here comes the baddest dude on the block. And I
turn around and see neatly dressed Death walking down the
street. Charming all the grownups with a terrified smile
while handing out chocolate-covered crack lollipops to the
children. Where have all the down studs gone? Long time
passing. Jive whispers from neon lips. Eldorado dreams in
stagnant colors. Rich men dancing with limp dolls in the
luxury of their shame. Their mouths foaming with dead
languages while democratic lies bay at the moon. Why must the
dark ages still play games with us? Blind sprinters lost in a
moment of a peaceful masquerade. Evil is an intruder but why
do we let it in? We have no one to blame but ourselves. We
listen to the rhythm, but we never hear the musicians. We
elevate and praise the wise men but get lost in their wisdom.
We feel the passion and truth of the poets but kill them with
thunderous applause. Is there anything not sacred anymore? Is
there not anything not sacred anymore? Honesty, justice,
freedom. Freedom, justice, honesty. All being devoured by
western imitations of life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness is drowning out the tears of deception. If I ... If
we ... had a power so tender as time maybe then we could wipe
this savage onslaught from our minds. The children dream from
the twilight of indecision. We must make their dreams come
true. Let us begin to talk to the brighter days with our
eyes. The night belongs. to the softness of our hearts. The
new circle is beginning. Will we be there when it ends? We
used to wonder why the ocean danced so childishly before the
eyes of expression. We used to understand why the grass
sighed so mysteriously from the days of winters gone by. Look
back fallen lovers. How far have we come? How much further do
we have to go? Life will never be the same. It may never
again be perfect. It may never again be beautiful. But we
must try at least to make it normal. To be poets and sing
out the joyous resurrection of our minds. To be poets and
charm the emptiness of this anticipation. To be poets and
comfort this gentle grief of our souls. To be poets and bring
sunshine to the mutiny of these meagre days. Peace will dance
with creation in the sadness of our beings and everyone's
uniqueness will fall like rain from the eyes of God is a
friend. The phoenix will come from the flames this time.
There will be no ashes to ashes. Love must be there when the
dust clears! Ally ally outs in free! Ally ally outs in Free!
about
Influential spoken word artists, poets and commentators The Last Poets released "Understand What Black Is", their first album in 20 years, in May this year to universal acclaim. The second in a series of EPs to follow the album, "We Must Be Sacred" comes with remixes by Mo Kolours and EVM 128 ft Marcel Lune.
Anglo-Mauritian producer, singer and percussionist Joseph Deenmamode aka Mo Kolours produces the lead remix, letting the Poets do their thing over laid back loops influenced by the traditional sega music of his father's Indian Ocean homeland and hip hop, dub and soul. Eclectic producer/DJ EVM 128 joins forces with Marcel Lune, drawing influences from garage, bass, house and broken beat to transport The Last Poets' message to the dancefloor and beyond.
It was 1970's "The Last Poets" under both Umar bin Hassan and Abiodun Oyewole that secured their legacy, becoming one of the most important influences in early hip hop. Throughout the last 20 years, The Last Poets have remained largely on hiatus but their influence could still be felt with their tracks being sampled by The Notorious B.I.G, NWA, A Tribe Called Quest, Dr.Dre and Snoop Dogg and Umar has recorded various solo albums and featured on Common and Kanye West's Grammy Nominated "The Corner". "Understand What Black Is" was produced by Ben Lamdin (Nostalgia 77) and Brighton legend Prince Fatty, whose specialty is traditional reggae and dub productions.
credits
released October 12, 2018
A Nostalgia 77 & Prince Fatty Production. Produced by Benedic Lamdin & Mike Pelanconi. Written by Umar Bin Hassan, Abiodun Oyowele, Benedic Lamdin, Mike Pelanconi, Dub Judah, Winston "Horseman" Williams & Riaan Vosloo.
Mike Pelanconi Published by Because Music. Umar Bin Hassan, Abiodun Oyowele, Benedic Lamdin, Dub Judah, Winston "Horseman" Williams & Riaan Vosloo Published by Copyright Control.
Rhythms recorded at The Ironworks, Brighton. Horns Recorded at the Fish Factory, London. Arrangements by Riaan Vosloo. Horns conducted by Riaan Vosloo. Vocals recorded in NYC at Moon Studios & at 68 Jay St. Engineers: Eber Pinheiro & Sean Amery. Mixed at Evergreen Studios, London.
A&R'd by Tony Thorpe.
Remix & Additional Production by 01 & 03. Mo Kolours, 02 & 04. EVM128 & Marcel Lune.
supported by 8 fans who also own “We Must Be Sacred”
Had everyone had warning of what to expect? "Opener" set the scene for those unsure newcomers. "Long Way Home" - an apt title: what a break. Idris wanders off leaving Leon, Emre and Satin to find the way... with a joyful reunion at the end.
The journeys continue through the rest of the show - Leon constantly providing that anchor around which the wonder this world - and, of course, Other Worlds - fly at their own pace.
You may know of Janek Gwizdala - if not Hidden Treasures gives hints. Peter Jones
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021
