English Electric (Part Two) CD quality audio

by Big Big Train

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  • Digital Album

    Immediate download of 7-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.

    The download includes a PDF copy of the album booklet including lyrics.

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1.
15:43
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2.
06:20
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3.
07:30
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4.
03:54
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5.
06:58
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6.
08:29
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7.
08:44
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credits

released 04 March 2013
Big Big Train is:

Nick D’Virgilio
Dave Gregory
David Longdon
Danny Manners
Andy Poole
Greg Spawton

Produced by Andy Poole

Recorded by Big Big Train at English Electric Studios
Drums, brass band and violin recorded by Rob Aubrey at Aubitt Studios
String section and double bass recorded by Ken Brake at Regal Lane Studios
Recorder on The Permanent Way recorded by Edo Spanninga at Studio Aurelia

Mixed and Mastered by Rob Aubrey at Aubitt Studios

Cover and booklet photography by Matt Sefton
Portrait photograph by Willem Klopper
Design by Andy Poole
Curator: Greg Spawton


Website:
www.bigbigtrain.com

Join our forum at:
www.facebook.com/groups/bigbigtrain

Big Big Train would like to thank: Rob Aubrey and Ken Brake for their extraordinary recording skills; Kathy Blatchford and Nellie Pitts for office management and merchandise; everyone at GEP; Chris Topham at Plane Groovy; Dave Desmond, Rachel Hall, Louis Philippe and Andy Tillison for their wonderful arrangements and musicianship; Willem Klopper and Matt Sefton for their photography.

tags

tags: rock prog rock progressive rock United Kingdom

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about

Big Big Train is an independent progressive rock band which has been described as 'one of the great, unsung bands of British prog' (Sonic Bond) and which 'continues to plough its own considerable furrow without the aid of label support' (Guitar and Bass). BBT have released 7 albums including the critically acclaimed The Underfall Yard (2009,) and an extended length EP Far Skies Deep Time (2010). ... more

discography

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Track Name: East Coast Racer
Shaped for speed
strong on the wing
the sketches and designs were made,
frames were laid
by hand-picked men.
Working every hour they had
to build the fire
to make the engine;
looking to the road ahead
blows are struck
to forge the steel
so she can fly.

The road is clear
and words remain unsaid.
He walks the high wire
with the engines and men
of the line.
He sees love,
he sees hope,
he sees everything that they are;
the need to fly far.
He sees love.

Men as giants,
hammers falling,
the works’ own heartbeat.
Furnace stacks with black smoke rising
steal the clean air.

(here she comes)

Joe and Tommy on the plate
their caps are worn in racing style,
elbows jutting from the cab.

Working every hour they had
to build the fire
to drive the engine;
looking to the road ahead.

There was a lonely voice
and it spoke these words:
‘run hard as you like
for the engines and men
of the line’.
He sees love.
he sees hope,
he sees everything that they are;
the need to fly far.
He sees love.

Men as giants
feed the engine
build the fire from cold.
Coal and water
fire and steam
to drive the pistons home.

He sees love.

They ran south
working up the bank
past the upturned faces
of the platelayers.
She starts to take her wing,
she jumps to it like a living thing,
made for speed and in full cry
they gave her the road
and she holds to the line.
Church bells call a beat along the track
she burns with the substance of the land.

Racing through the circling lines
a rocket in blue at two miles a minute,
embers stream along her sides;
from this far away now,
she flies with them
into sky
into history
into legend
she flies…
Track Name: Swan Hunter
As a kid I’d see the ships
Slowly taking shape
Nightshift riveters and caulkers
Keeping us awake

My dad worked at Swan
In the Neptune Yard
Worked the slipways in all weather
7.30 start

Call me up boy
Sit you down by the fireside spend some time
All the pride boy
And the tears
Tears enough to fill the Tyne

Gleaming vessels
Filling up the sky
Dwarfing rows of terraced houses
Larger than life

Tell me what do you do
When what you did is gone
No one throwing you a lifeline
How do you carry on?

Call me up boy
Sit you down by the fireside spend some time
All the pride boy
And the tears
Tears enough to fill the Tyne

So much larger than life
From father to son
We carry it on
It isn’t going change the world
It isn’t going to change the past
‘Cos some things are meant to last

So much larger than life
From father to son
We carry it on

Call me up boy
Sit you down by the fireside spend some time
All the pride boy
And the tears
Tears enough to fill the Tyne
Track Name: Worked Out
Come on lads, walk beside me
one more time into the darkness
further than we’ve ever been before.
Come on lads, walk in line
we work the coalface
work the longwall.

Following on from our fathers and brothers
into the depths of the lower measures
light from a distant sun
plays across the shore
oceans rise and fall.

Wild untamed and unknown places
were nothing to us, fell before us.
We shaped the land
we changed the skyline
we had our day
our day is over.

Following on from our fathers and brothers
out of the depths of the lower measures
light from a distant sun
plays across the shore
oceans rise and fall.

We’re working men, we follow the seam
under the hills to the end of the lode.
We’re working men, we follow the seam
under the fields to the end of the lode,
it’s the end of the road.

So come on lads, walk beside me
one last time into the darkness.
Out across the open skyline
shafts are capped and wheels stop turning.

Following on from our fathers and brothers
out of the depths of the lower measures
light from a distant sun
plays across the shore
oceans rise and fall.

We’re working men...
Track Name: Leopards
When leopards
Say they can change
They don’t mean a single word
That they say
No...

Because leopards
Promise the earth
For all they’re worth
Swear blind
They feel the same

Making the same mistakes
As long as they realise
That’s all they can do
(Promise)
That they’re going to keep trying too

Join the spots
(Dot to dot)
Revealed the hidden picture
Now comes clearly into view
(Hey it’s you !)
Cross your heart
(Hope to die)
Should they ever tell a lie
Oh my
Oh my

Join the spots
(Dot to dot)
Revealed the hidden picture now
Comes clearly into view
(Hey it’s me too !)
Cross our hearts
(Hope to die)
Should we ever tell a lie
Oh my, Oh my

As long as we realise
That’s all we can do
(Promise)
That we’re going to keep on trying
(Be honest)
Yes, that’s the way that we’ll pull through
If you try
I promise I will keep trying too

Hey leopard
What do you say leopard?
Track Name: Keeper of Abbeys
Keeper of abbeys,
his name was carved in the grey stone,
it was the angel of the north.

Reaching for a last
remnant of the light;
it catches the high stones.
He came down from the moors,
he’d seen much better days,
he set himself to the rain.

Keeper of abbeys,
his name was carved in the grey stone,
it was the angel of the north.

Reaching for the light
rising like the cooling towers
of the edgelands.
Weathered like the stone,
long ago he set himself to the rain.

Keeper of abbeys,
his name was carved in the grey stone,
it was the angel of the north.

In his eyes,
the embers of love,
fading and failing,
if you look close
if you look hard,
you can see the traces.
He has become the stones;
weathered to fall
reaching for the last
dying ray of light
in a valley in the north
where a river runs its course.

(he had wanted to travel…)
Track Name: The Permanent Way
The farmer working in the fields
before the sunrise,
the inland navigators heading
for the far skies.

Up on the hills amid the silence
of the high moors,
down in the valleys, by the rivers
and the dry stone walls.

That is where you will find them
out there, working by the hedgerows.
In the rain and the snowfall
you’ll find them
out there, high against the skyline.
In the mines and the headings
you’ll find them, down there
dreaming of the daylight.

The line will hold;
the mark of man
upon the land;
the inland navigators
reaching for the far skies.
Track Name: Curator of Butterflies
She likes to walk
down the lanes to the fields.
In the woods, she finds a stream,
the water feels cold
in the cup of her hands.

Down among the trees
she spies butterflies
against the leaves.
With one brush of her hand
they are captured and taken.

From the top of the hill,
looking over the edge,
so far out of reach
further and further away.

She likes to see
all the colours of the wings
beneath the glass.
Then she turns down the light
to keep them from fading away.

She likes to walk
by the stream down to the shore,
from the source
to the sea.

Looking over the edge
where the sky meets the waves,
so far out of reach;
with just one step,
she’d be free,
with one bound,
with one leap.
A part we all play,
the end is the start,
is the place
where we came from.

Looking over the edge
counting the waves
follow the faultlines
up the side of the hill
the marks of an ancient sea
you can see the traces.

At the end of the hedgerow
out of the field,
looking over the edge
as far as you can see
under the ordinary light.

She loved the colours of the wings
against the green
the first thing she saw
the last she hopes to see
the parts we play,
the start the end,
and everything,
everything in-between.

She likes to walk
by the stream down to the shore,
from the source
to the sea.

Looking over the edge
where the sky meets the waves,
so far out of reach;
with just one step,
she’d be free.