Next door to the Jefferson Airplane: 341 Willard North

by Ernesto Diaz-Infante



released August 1, 2003

Ernesto Diaz-Infante: vocals, 4-track, guitars, violin, percussion-sampled collage, and lyrics.
Marjorie Sturm: flute, voice and lyrics.

Composed/mixed: March - June 2003, San Francisco, California USA.
Released by Imvated


all rights reserved



Ernesto Diaz-Infante San Francisco, California

Ernesto Diaz-Infante’s musical compositions span a broad perspective: transcendental piano, noise, free improvisation, avant- garde guitar, field recordings, lo-fi four-track manipulations, and experimental song. He received his MFA from CalArts in Music Composition. He lives in San Francisco with filmmaker Marjorie Sturm and their son and daughter. ... more

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Track Name: Revolutionize warriors and shamans (poema 240)
Smile at paintings and artifacts
Play tricks upon storytellers
Revolutionize warriors and shamans
Track Name: Journey through a lost America
The guardian spirits,
Companions on the journey
Through a "lost" America
Track Name: Dissolution (lyrics by Marjorie Sturm)
In my dream I screamed at you
While you buried your face in a pillow
From the darkly lit stale air
I dramatically departed
The suddenness and surprise
Felt great until I wanted to swim back
But I was at pool with a heavy knapsack

I walked with a broken sandal

In the fog this morning
With your hard cock at my hip
My anger lingered
And then dissolved

© by Marjorie Sturm
Track Name: San Francisco Cynicism (lyrics by Marjorie Sturm)
Surrounded in this city
By people with a lack of purpose
I'm sure most would cough back their cappuccinos
If you gave them a cause to die for

Stripped bare, we're all scared
What a long hike ahead of us
All of this investigation
An unstable, unsteady treacherously slow
Spiritual ascent towards...

Do you have the right sexy San Francisco style?
Sleek, slim, fast enough?
Are you oozing, alluding, deluding
That all you want to do is get naked in bed?
On the streets
The eyes meet.

We are unfolding like grand carpets
And who will march on top of us?
We are unravelling like balls of string
And who will play with us?
We are transcending our cultures,
Seeking the source
And simultaneously finding it difficult
To get to the post office
To buy stamps

Oh, the horror of it all!
That pragmatic paralysis that lets us
View our lives for what they really are
Sitting alone on icebergs with frozen fingertips
We begin again.
What will distract me from my discipline?
My unstable, unsteady treacherously slow
Spiritual ascent towards...

A joint. A beer. A cigarette.
A sleek, silk shirt for the seduction
Give me sexual distraction
I want some immediate satisfaction
I need some immediate satisfaction

We shop until we drop and
We're all in high school again
"There were lots of pretty people there
reading Rolling Stone, reading Vogue."
Ah, but at least now there is an edge.
We are saved from living lives as wind-up toys
Even if we too break down occasionally

All eyes on me
The energy-attention fills me
The sound of applause fills me
Clap Clap Clap
I pig out on this
Or walk away with self-degrading thoughts

I think I love you
I think I really do
But forever exhaust me
Turns me black, then brown, then yellow, then pale
I see no movement, no mania, just mothers

Don't tire me with your truths
I am delighted in my delusions
I will get to where I am going,
And I don't care if I arrive on time

©Marjorie Sturm
Track Name: Complacency (lyrics by Marjorie Sturm)
San Francisco is hot San Francisco is satiated
San Francisco now drinks fine wine with the scene
San Francisco has taken off the young woman's new soul
San Francisco awakes sleeping choked in the mar
Less joy suddenly is soaked from the rich
And the ignorance and the wisdom
Of happy San Francisco
Are the air and the dirty water
Are the ugliness and the evil
Of her satiated consumers
Laugh from frustration San Francisco
You who are dead with a ghost who is equal
And in front of the lushness
of your rosiness and your gluttony
Nothing that is animal is hidden from your aura
San Francisco, my beautiful village
Soft as a hair weak as a hand
Artful and ignorant
We do bear justice
For us it is so many simplicities
Will you strangle yourself San Francisco?
San Francisco dulled like trash
Their dying jadedness
We captured ourselves from sunshine and liveliness
Sisters let us not have complacency
They who are protected
With cell-phones and fashion and etiquette
A wave washes down out their skins
Their darkness returns forward to them
The worst of them have been born for them
And our breathe then lost their minds
And it is night, many more a San Francisco night
The eve of millennium tension
The object of autumn ancient dead
Purposeful debility has the best of you
These refugees, our friends
If we can't intuit
If we are unable of intuiting
Will fall down.

©Marjorie Sturm
Track Name: Zip French Modernism (poema 44)
Zip French modernism
Verify mannequins
Jilt Spanish landscapes
Quench idiosyncratic composers
Track Name: Vanish the patron saint of America (poema 434)
Vanish the patron saint of America
Vaporize composer-songwriters
Vary nude exotic landscpaes

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