I include here two album's-worth of material I have written and recorded, classified into "Rock" and "Folk Rock", the latter ranging from rock but on acoustic instruments to quite gentle and folky numbers.
​
This selection of pieces, which I wrote, arranged and produced, and in which I sing and perform almost all the instruments (save drums and percussion), I chose as the output of my most recent studio sessions, in late 2020. I have a good deal of earlier recordings too but they weren't in a pro studio environment.
​
My blog posts under this topic include random thoughts on music and my experiences of setting up a recording studio
LYRICS
​
Click on song title to scroll to lyrics
​
The fundamental paradox of the racist
​
​
Album credits
​
Words and music by Simon Pollack
Arranged and produced by Simon Pollack
Recording engineer Matty Moon
Mixing engineers Matty Moon (rock) and Simon Pollack (folk rock)
Mastered by Simon Pollack
​​
​
​​
Guitars, bass, keyboards, lead vox: Simon Pollack
Drums: Joe Taylor
Percussion: Hej Jones
Female vocals: SJ Mortimer
Trumpet: Pierre-Jean Ley
​
​
Recorded at The Mother Lode Recording Studio, Welney, Norfolk
Vaseline
​I, I’ve read the book
And I, I know where to look
I, I’m down on the scene
And I like to look and be seen
​
Twenty years old, I’m living the dream
Twenty years old, smooth as Vaseline
​
You, you stand alone
You dress with poise, you set the tone
And you, you’re giving me the eye
You flick your hair with your arm out wide
​​
We, we have the love of the crowd
And we, we play it loud
Under the spotlight, up on the stage
We live for the now, we stay on this page​
RockFolk
I’ve tried all kinds of friends
But in the end come back again
And find myself hanging out with RockFolk
There never seems to be
A moment of antipathy
We share a love of 4/4 beats and driven energy
​​
The power of distortion, the snare on 2 and 4
There’s something ’bout that guitar riff that makes you beg for more
The soaring vocal harmonies behind the screaming lead
The crunch of dampened power chords fulfils our basic need
​
The golden age went by before I even realised
That music meant much more than whispered lullabies
But timeless songs evolve like instinct in a newborn foal
Becoming lodged within our soul and shaping rock folk-lore
Some say it’s all derivative
But endless creativity
Is coursing through the veins of rock folk
Upon the shoulders of the giants stand new giants
This music that we’ve loved so long still keeps us going strong
Fighting
You offer your hand, they take your arm
You work the land and they take your farm
You give your all and take nothing back
You fight your war and the sky turns black
When all is lost, you start to find
A gust of wind, a turning tide
I’m gonna win, ’cause I’m fighting
Turn to the wind, and start riding
Storm’s rolling in, thunder and lightning
Let battle begin, ’cause I’m fighting
They speak the words that strike a chord
The cries you heard, a common cause
And in the fight we stand abreast
Side by side we face our test
Through clouds of dust, the shapes will form
Through those we trust, our land reborn
The cycle begins, but this time will end
When the foe within becomes a friend
Blowpipe
Looking outside, staring at the tree
The tree’s looking back, glaring at me
Oh the curse of an overactive mind
You close your eyes, never know what you’ll find
​
Sometimes you see things a man should never see
Like the tree’s evil eye, winking at me
​
A Pygmy army, with blowpipes at hand
Sweeping ’cross this green and pleasant land
“Dominate the white man” is their constant refrain:
Revenge for the years of colonial pain
​
Sometimes you see things a man should never see
Like the end of a blowpipe, pointing at me
​
Your imagination lives in vivid dreams
Where nothing in the world is as it seems
But who’s to say that none of this is true?
Perhaps a comfortable illusion just mollycoddles you
​
Sometimes you see things a man should never see
But sometimes what you see is reality
Oh sometimes what you see is reality
The muted millions
Do we want it, or did we choose it?
No, we’re just victims of systemic avarice
The politicians abuse the system
One law for the poor, another for the rich
You give a polished presentation
Ask for patience from the nation
But you don’t listen to the muted millions
If you ask us our opinion
We’d be shouting “leave us all alone, leave us all alone”
Did we know this, and do we owe this?
No, we’re just victims of systemic credit risk
Somehow the rising tide seemed to pass us by
Now we share the cost incurred by the rich
Grace
I dodged a bullet: I heard it whistle past my ear
Your instincts save you, or maybe you’re just frozen with fear
The field is littered with those lost to the gun
They say I’m lucky that I know how to run
It’s my saving grace, it’s my saving grace
There but for the grace of God go I
Somehow, she knew that it was right to say no to that man
Great riches promised, just reach out and take his hand
White powder money somehow didn’t seem right
And now that man is doing twenty-to-life
It’s her saving grace, it’s her saving grace
There but for the grace of God goes she
Admit it you were tempted, just a victimless crime
They set up traps with wiretaps, surveillance all the time
And now you see the victim could have been you
Your conscience told you what you had to do
It’s your saving grace, it’s your saving grace
There but for the grace of God go you
There but for the grace of God go you
Anonymity
Walker in the park
Stalker in the dark
The things that you don’t see
A hidden tragedy
Now I know you
But you don’t know me
All the things you can do
In anonymity
Shadow on the wall
Footsteps in the hall
At night you’re nearly blind
But you see them in your mind
Standing in the sunshine, there’s bliss in ignorance
Your world it turns around you, but you only live it once
The sunset draws a line under all that you will know
And then it’s time to go…
The fundamental paradox of the racist
Hey you, get off of my land
The likes of you, you should be banned
I know what’s mine, I’ll protect it with my life
I’ve got my shotgun, I’ve got my knife
I dream of England as she used to be
In a time when everybody looked and thought like me
Get out of my country get off of my land
Get out of my country get off of my land
Come to my country and work on my land
Come to my country and work with your hands
Hey you, can’t you speak my tongue?
Well sign these forms and we’ll get along
Twenty pounds a day and room between ten
You need to stay just to pay your rent
The Daily Mail says we’re full of immigrants
The Daily Mail pumps my head full of ignorance
Hey you, where’re you going now?
What’ll I do if you let me down?
Who’ll pick these crops, who’ll work on this line?
What happened to the contract I made you sign?
I can’t tell if I need you or hate you more
I’m so confused, I don’t know what to think any more
Rhythm bridge
Marching on the rhythm bridge
The cadence of our pounding feet
With victor’s spoils we feel replete
When fate provides our last defeat
The rhythm cause fatal cracks
Snapping cables whipping back
Disintegrates our marching track:
We’re falling into black
Pushing against the hand of fate, hoping we’re not too late
Always breaking pottery
Always lose the lottery
Ignored by the polity
The state has got in in for me
My life is lived as silhouette, the man you never see
Every game’s a losing bet, the blighted destiny
Hoping that the winds are changing, that I’m coming back
The lines of fate are rearranging and I’m coming back
And in the dark I see a glow
The shifting sands, they start to hold
A harness holds us from below
I feel the times a-change
Reaching for the hand of fate to feel her warm embrace
Reaching for the hand of fate to feel her warm embrace
Feeling that the winds are changing, that I’m coming back
The lines of fate are rearranging, and I’m coming back
The glow becomes a shining light
And in the light the pure delight
Of casting off the burden blight
The albatross in flight
Reaching for the hand of fate to feel her warm embrace
Reaching for the hand of fate to feel her warm embrace
Feeling that the winds are changing, that I’m coming back
The lines of fate are rearranging, and I’m coming back
Feeling that the winds are changing, that I’m coming back
The lines of fate are rearranging, and I’m coming back
The reckoning of sins
The only one alive who looked the killer in the eye
Can tell us nothing of how it feels to die
The creasing of his face belies the empty space
Where once his soul lived, before absence took its place
And in the night, he turns his head to cry
Bedsheets damp with sweat and tears, but his heart remains so dry
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Why did she die? Why did she die?
The clouds have nothing to hide
The truth is wrapped up in lies
No need to turn your eyes to the sky
The clouds have nothing to hide
And in the dark, sometimes we see
And from our fate, sometimes we break free
Despite our pain, we still believe
It’s not ordained: our will is free
The reckoning of sins: payments out for payments in
We search our souls and find no God within
The only life we have is the life we have today
The final breath we draw: the final price we pay
The only ones who stand in judgment now:
Our conscience and our fellow men account for all somehow
There is no comfort, we could always choose
We determined who should win and who should lose
I’ll tell you why, I’ll tell you why
The squirrel song
Standing on the outside, looking in
Existential questioning about to begin
If you refuse to play the game, how can you win?
If nobody came, would we still be listening?
If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound
Even if there was nobody around?
Well ask the baffled squirrel as he hits the ground
Who cares about the noise when you’re heaven-bound
Don’t care for metaphysical sophistry
The Ontological Argument’s too much for me
What is touch, what is thought, what is sight or sound?
Sound is what the squirrel heard before he hit the ground
And sight is sixteen tons of wood crashing all around
And thought is ‘how am I gonna jump from a tree that’s falling down?’
And touch is the last thing you feel when you’re heaven-bound
Oh anybody can prove that one and one is three
Epistemological reasoning means nothing to me
I just think of Mr Squirrel lying under that tree
The victim of a branch of philosophy
Ordinary man
And after all is said and done
You know you’re not the only one
You wish you were but you’re not strong
Think of all the things you keep on getting wrong
Oh you try the best you can, but oh God knows you’re just an ordinary man
​
Unseen force pins you down on the floor
Your broken spirit can’t absorb any more
And when the scribes take up the pen to write the age
All you’ve been and all you’ve seen won’t make the page
Oh you try the best you can, but oh God knows you’re just an ordinary man
Deep insight your heart you keep a love that won’t fade
Your world surrounds you and provides a keeper at the gate
Faster-flowing streams pass you by as you’re standing on the other side
And now there’s no need to hide
And after all is said and done
You know you are the only one
Your world exists within your mind
And those who love you know how to read the signs
Oh you try the best you can: lord only knows the power of an ordinary man
Attraction
The attraction is magnetic, you walk left but you veer right
A blur of red, in a second it’s all over
Maybe you’ll see another night
Voices hissing, never ending
No rest for the wicked, no peace for the mind
Do you think about it often?
Think what you’ll leave behind
They talk in whispers, dissect, discuss,
Analyse, therapise: unbearably detached
Half an hour of silence, eyes burning down on shoes
Now where’s the good in that?
Salvation comes in milligrammes, the Trojan pills prescribed
The busy city finds its freedom, but the inhabitants have died
The busy city finds its freedom, but the inhabitants have died
The truth within
So much I wish I could tell you
With words like those of Jacque Brel, who
Built dreams that were real as the feelings we feel when our hearts overspill with emotion;
When we see the old films, with the flickering reels, of love, life and devotion
But he lived with no great devotion
To life, or his wife, and although some
Feel the themes of his dreams weren’t as real as the scenes on the screens of the old films
I will always believe Jacques was bequeathed a vision revealed
Of troublesome charmings, and Amsterdam harmings,
Nonsensical words somehow real
Of kings broken-hearted, volcanoes restarted
Of realms where you will be queen
[Tempestuous lovers, who rise from the covers, to find their love pure and clean]
And always you will find
The truth within
So how can I say that I love you
Without poetry nothing seems true
The words of Jacques Brel could gush like a well, cast sorcerous spells that evoke earthly hell
He could summon the bells to chime the song in his mind he’d dressed on his lines
Now the words of my dreams are an eloquent stream
But by day they’re nothing but dry dusty hay
So please just listen to Brel he knew how to tell what I wanted to say
Covered photograph
It’s sunny, let’s play outside, oh honey straight from the hive
It’s funny that you’re only alive when it’s sunny
On sunny days like these it’s easy to forget what sometimes brings us to our knees
But I remember the photograph covered with a sheet
But there’s this thing that you won’t talk about
You won’t let me in, you just shut me out
There’s a secret place where you can hide when the darkness falls
And it’s always there like a covered photograph hanging on the wall
And then the moment passes, our hands are locked together I’m yours and you’re mine
We’re living in the here and now, we’re making hay while the sun shines
You’re happy, I can see it in your face
Your eyes are shining brightly, and your smile is real
But then I can trace the contours of your heart, the way that you feel
When it’s sunny we have a moment’s grace
We relish every second of the time we can steal
But we’re running our own private race
When the darkness descends, I’m scared of what it reveals
Has to be a better way
It was still dark as my feet hit the ground
Outside, a carpet of mist
Trying to move without making a sound
Trying to remember the last time we kissed
And I think to myself, ooh, I think to myself
There has to be a better way, has to be a better way
Already dark as I take the home-bound train
Inside a crowd of empty eyes
The urban landscape dullens as it starts to rain
And I’m trying to distinguish the truth from the lies
Waterloo
Some of the time life is fine, like sharing from a goblet of the sweetest wine
And when you gaze into the blue-green haze you know you’ve found your soul-mate for the rest of your days
And speaking from your soul you say, voice filled with joy:
“Woman, be my girl, I wanna be your boy”
But other days see the lifting of the haze
Those blue-green eyes turn to darkest black
Standing in the kitchen as she reads the riot act:
“Look at me when I talk to you, don’t turn your back”
You know the things you say are never gonna make me wanna go away
And you know the things you do are never gonna make me stop loving you
And all the things you try to test my faith can never turn my love for you into hate
Every day I tell myself: come what may
You can push me away but I’m here to stay
Sometimes you think the fault lies with you, and you look at the situation from her point of view
No matter what you say, no matter what you do, she’s gonna try to turn you into someone new
And standing square in front of you, hands on hips,
Come battalions of words, the moral battleship
But in the end, you can’t change how you feel
The roller-coaster ride’s all part of the deal
The arguments are fiction, and the good times are real
There’s more to the questions than the answers reveal
And after all is said and done, you know that it’s true
You’re just like Napoleon and she’s your Waterloo, Ha!
Love's philosophy
​​The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion
Nothing in the world is single
All things by a law divine
In one another’s being mingle
Why not I with thine?
See the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moon-beams kiss the sea
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?
​
​Words by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Inspiration
Do the ideas come from vivid pastoral dreams?
A purple Fenland sunset, a bulging salmon stream
What stirs creative feelings, and causes us to sing?
The source of inspiration, such a fleeting thing
Maybe it’s imagined lovers with perfect, ideal lives
Maybe we remember losses: how we had to dry our eyes
What stirs creative feelings, and causes us to sing?
The source of inspiration, such a fleeting thing
Such a fleeting thing, such a fleeting thing, such a fleeting thing
Wherever we find inspiration, however we sing our song
Whoever’s voice we’re using sometimes may not be our own
What stirs creative feelings, and causes us to sing?
The source of inspiration, such a fleeting thing
The ideas float around us
Of love, and life, and fear
Some we grasp and hold onto
Some slip our grasp, so near
My heart is in your hand
The sun is setting low and leaving hints of red and gold
The embers of the day are dying, I shut my eyes
Then your unexpected touch brings me round again
You hold my heart in your hand
And at the break of day, you turn your head to me and say:
“The wind is breathing softly through the willow trees today”
And your unexpected words drift slowly through my mind
You hold my heart in your hand
I close my eyes and feel an absence growing near
What games the mind can play, the images so clear
When you’re not here sometimes I visit my deepest fear
What games the mind can play, the images so clear
An empty room, a footstep on the stair
And through the gloom a parting glimpse of flowing hair
Please don’t ever leave, you have to understand
You’re all I’ll ever need, my heart is in your hand
We’re sitting side-by-side discussing those we’ve known who’ve died
The conversation touches on the fickleness of life
Then your unexpected touch brings happiness again
You hold my heart in your hand
I close my eyes and feel an absence growing near
What games the mind can play, the images so clear
Older - wiser
It’s too easy just to say you’re so much better
But you know you’re just deceiving yourself
The benefits of wisdom seem to leave you standing lonely
Your life is standing still, your dreams a distant bell
Whatever happened to those youthful ambitions?
The endless treadmill seemed to carry you away
While teenage millionaires build websites for the lonely
You make your monthly payments from your weekly wage
It’s not too late, it’s not too late
Are you growing wiser as you’re getting older?
Your frustration showing that you never told her
That you loved her in the days when you were younger, fitter
Now your memories just leave you sitting feeling bitter
Now it’s time to leave these feelings in the past
Life is fleeting, bodies frail, but love lasts
All your life has been to reach this beginning
At the starting line your spirit starts to wake
The runners and the riders are under starter’s orders
You wear your colours proud and look towards the tape
It’s not too late, it’s not too late
The desolate tree
The tangled web where you’ve made your bed
You rest on lies to clear your head
How can it feel where nothing’s real
You went down to the crossroads to make a deal
It would still the pain not to have to listen or to speak again
So you fashioned a mask that you wear to respond when questions are asked
You met the man by a desolate tree
You couldn’t see his face, but you followed his lead
He called you over to say “tell me what you want I’ll tell you what you must pay”
‘What’ll I pay if you let me bury my pain
What’ll I pay if I don’t wanna feel again
What do I give you to follow this plan
What’ll it cost me’, he said to the man
“I want your soul when you leave here today:
that’s the price for me to take your suffering away”
But in the end the tangled web you wove is not your only friend
The time has come to make amends
And deep inside your truth can’t hide
You did these things just to stay alive
And standing in the shade of the desolate tree you resolve to lift the mask and try to be free
You turn to the man to say ‘I’ll tell you what I think before I leave here today’
‘How can I pay what you ask of me
Why should I pay just to be free
What if I said I wanna face my pain
What if I said I wanna feel again
You say my soul is the price I must pay but my heart will be whole when I leave here today
Please release me, oh please release me’
Two wars
Through the night in distant dreams
The distant fight remains unseen
And when you wake you haven’t been
In distant fields of bloodied green
And the sight of stooping women reaching down to see the faces of the fallen to find the one they love
No, this was just a dream
And while you wait in the morning for the train
A sniper’s sights are searching through a distant window-pane
And the trace of the bullet from the gun can be seen in the noon-day sun
As it reaches for your neighbour’s son
No, this is not a dream
This is not a dream, it’s not a memory of a movie scene
The cycle carries on as history repeats, repeats
Repeating themes bringing to life what should remain dreams
We never learn
How banal that your life goes on like this
You leave at seven, you’re always home by six
You glance next door at the curtains always drawn
In the theatre of war, they face another dawn
With the whip-crack of gunfire always present while you’re looking at your laptop screen
These lives exist together but they cannot touch
No, only in a dream
The things you say
Oh no, your words rebound, come back at you again
The unintended hurt cuts deepest to the vein
And as she lights a cigarette you’re left alone with your regrets
The things you say, the games you play, the price you pay
The things you say
The things you say
The things you say
Why do we cause the greatest pain to those we love?
You cannot stop though you’ve already said enough
She leaves at midnight, a flashlight, an overnight
And any day she’ll call and say “I’ve gone away”
You never meant for it to finish up this way
You’re burning up inside, but you can’t ask her to stay
And sitting in your room you’re staring into empty gloom, and
All because you had to say those fucking stupid things you say