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Autumn Eye

by Emily Jones

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Whereas the limited edition CD has a golden lyric sheet, and coloured CD, this standard CD is all shades of brown - imagine, if you will, a golden pigeon with jewelled eyes that has become despondent and faded to brown...it's sort of like that.

    It's still quite nice though.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Autumn Eye via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days

      £6 GBP or more 

     

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £5 GBP  or more

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 3 Emily Jones releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Autumn Eye, The Book of the Lost, and Miscellaneous Tracks. , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      £9.75 GBP or more (35% OFF)

     

  • Limited Edition Compact Disc
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Hand finished, in a sleeve made with mostly recycled materials - every one is slightly different.

    Contains a shiny gold lyric sheet.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Autumn Eye via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out

1.
Dark moss and cold heart, Autumn is here. Under the brambles, Water runs clear. And the pale moon's face watches over the reservoir, Frosty apple smile. Black eyes are shining, Deep in the leaves. Teeth are for tearing, Sunlight deceives. And the cold moon's face watches over the reservoir, Icy apple smile. Dark moss and cold heart, Shadows crisp and curled, Softly the evening, Closes round the world.
2.
Bed of Mud 03:35
Yellow reeds were bright along the creek, Where I once walked. Secret pools reflected light, I send that to your eyes. Just for your eyes, My skies. Dark brown earth, a bed of mud, The years are racing by. Nothing left to hold to, But the craving for the light. Just for your eyes, My sighs.
3.
Look at your wrists, are they dainty and small? Arms made of metal, that end in crab claws? Paperclips and moths make a graceful disguise, You snip and you snick, smile with beady green eyes. Qualify your wings, Tiny DNA, Crisp silver feathers, To shine, glide away, Away from the compound, And into empty air, The evening is cool blue, The desert is bare. Towards the mountains, Silent and bright, There's a slimy skinned globe, Trailing tendrils and lights. You flicker around it, And thousands of eyes, Follow your movements, So gentle and shy. A strange kind of friendship, Is born in two souls, It gathers up pollen, You slaughter small voles. Eerie shadows dancing, Below on the snow, Now stay with each other, These mountains are home.
4.
Light appearing now the rain has stopped, Breathing air and breathing ground, Shadows sharpen as the sun comes out, And turns the woods to gold.
5.
Pieces of people, floating around your house, Catching the light as they're passing the curtain mouth. Dust and dandruff left there in the room, where they've all shed their skin, Pieces of people, shimmering round your house. Pieces of Peter, he lived here a long time ago, He left on a train, it was heading for Walthamstow, He couldn't wait to get away, but bits of him are here to stay, Pieces of Peter, falling down like the snow. Get out your vacuum, try to suck up the past, It must be good to have this room to yourself at last, Take a long shower, wash out your clothes, No one likes to wear a ghost... Pieces of people, stuck to the side of the bath. Pieces of people, drifting around the world, Wherever the wind blows, sending them further afield, A farmer out in Kathmandu, he might be breathing bits of you, Pieces of people travelling round the world, Travelling round the world, Travelling round the world.
6.
Tethered 04:07
Mouse in its nest is rustling and turning, Inside the wall of the house in its dream, Despite all the years, stones are still standing, But windows have gone and the weather's let in. I stayed when the others had left you, Sleeping up here all alone, Tethered to you I protect you, Home. Here by the hearth, slates are still blackened, From fires that were made by people long gone, But the joy and the warmth, the fighting and anger, Feelings that fade with the slow drip of rain. I stayed when the others had left you, Sleeping up here all alone, Tethered to you I protect you, Home. The sun has gone down, no lights are lit here, Small in the dark, I creep up the stairs, And where the roof was now all of the stars I see, All of the stars that are all that I see. I stayed when the others had left you, Sleeping up here all alone, Tethered to you I protect you, Home.
7.
The sun is in your eyes, And all around are bright shadows. The sun is in your eyes, And all else is bright shadows...

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[UPDATE: The special limited edition CDs have now sold out - however there is now a new special non-special edition (a downright ordinary edition in fact).]



REVIEWS:

"...there is something sepia tinged about the music contained herein, it is from another time (or perhaps exists outside of time). It has a curiously English melancholy and haunted soul quite out of step with the modern world and pleasingly so; this album is an escape, a portal into a Cornish landscape that contains folklore, doomed and dark romance and a genuine sense of wonder. It is a delight that music of this type and calibre is being released today quite removed and distinct from the mass produced and homogeneous world of Spotify or iTunes. " Grey Malkin, The Active Listener (full review: active-listener.blogspot.co.nz/2014/11/album-review-emily-jones-autumn-eye.html )

"Her roots go...through that line of literary Englishness that reads and regards Radcliffe as breathlessly as it relives Daphne DuMaurier (whose mark is here, in all its coastal Cornish starkness), a sure-footed romanticism that knows the precise path through the marshes, and the most economical way between tor and tumulus, but understands, too, when to pause for breath. Or to freeze for dramatic effect." Dave Thompson, Goldmine Magazine (full review: www.goldminemag.com/features/emily-jones-opens-autumn-eye )

"Out of time in a fuzzy land both familiar and strange, gentle melodies enchant like Laudanum, cutting me free from these worldly chains. This is musick (with a ‘k’) of the earth, her roots sprawling under spiced soil, reaching deep into the nourishing moisture of creation and invisibly, through thick air, absorbed through flesh, saturating the organs, possessing the soul." Eliza Muddle, Collapse Board (full review: www.collapseboard.com/reviews/albums-reviews/emily-jones-autumn-eye-owltextures/ )

"...a terrific collection of seven songs. I'm a sucker for a good handmade CD package, and this is a beauty: metallic paper, recycled card, and a real leaf on the front. Very nice! The music is haunting...This is a really good album by somebody who could go far. Fans of alt-folk or English bucolica should check out this lovely music. Highly recommended!" Steve Palmer, Terrascope (full review: www.terrascope.co.uk/Reviews/Rumbles_March_15.htm )

"Emily Jones deals in a very personalized brand of (mostly) acoustic wyrd folk, painted with references to natural landscapes that hold a bewitching allure for her. Like a child full of wonder exploring the surroundings of a country house, she discovers what the cynical ‘grown-ups’ are unable to see or understand. Ghosts, fairies, sprites, stories and people from the past lingering on to the realm of the living. The sun reflecting on green leaves, the outlines of a forest seen through mist, moonlight piercing through a clearing. The sounds of small animals and insects hiding around you. The excitement of exploring a new environment all alone. A whole new world beneath the surface of the visible. Given in a magical way, full of context and background, with an efficiency that makes quick business of grasping your imagination, as well as your attention." MS, Santa Sangre Magazine (full review and interview here: santasangremagazine.wordpress.com/2015/03/01/the-secret-garden-i-staggered-blearily-outside-in-my-nightgown-for-a-cigarette-and-watched-the-sun-rise-emily-jones/ )

"...It starts off with the self-explanatory Dark Moss And Coldheart. From the title up, this is a thing of noir. Imagine, if your psyche can take it, Nico soundtracking The Wicker Man. Or a female take on the late Gravenhurst's eldritch folk. Its morass of sound is something to behold; like a fairground on fire...This is a wondrous collection of imaginative songs, completely out of step with what is going on musically right now. Which is why you should buy it." Lee Trewhela, West Briton (full review: www.westbriton.co.uk/Emily-play/story-25853503-detail/story.html )

"It's a beautiful, gold-cradled, hand-finished product, with glistening leaf attached to sleeve and full lyrics enclosed on insert; while the music within fairly glistens and glows too, with all the aura of autumn and its special seasonal colourings. The soundscape is for much of the time mightily dense and cluttered, although not unattractively so - the effect of listening to opening song Dark Moss And Coldheart is rather like wading through a thick ground-bed of fallen leaves amidst a woodland path walk." David Kidman, Fatea (full review: www.fatea-records.co.uk/magazine/2015/EmilyJones.html )

"...seven songs of wide-eyed, open-hearted avant-folk-pop, with a dreamlike feel, and some unsettling moments (‘Hermegant and Maladine’ in particular)...It’s music that lulls you, and then gives you a kick just as you’re settling into its dreamscape; a very pleasant and rewarding piece of contemporary psychedelia." Oliver Arditi (more here: oliverarditi.com/2015/03/01/various-artists-singles-and-eps-028/ )

credits

released November 23, 2014

CREDITS: All artwork and songs by Emily Jones, with small but kind musical additions on some tracks from Jake Ashworth-Jones (keyboards), Paolo Sala (bass), Shelley Trower (Flute) and Kemper Norton (harmonium and omnichord).

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Emily Jones Salisbury, UK

Here are some things to listen to. If you like that sort of thing. Listening to things like this, that is.

I hope you do like that.

They are no better than they ought to be.

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