Hasse Poulsen

The Langston Project

by Hasse Poulsen, Debbie Cameron, Luc Ex, Hasse Poulsen

Released 11/13/2015
Das Kapital Records
Released 11/13/2015
Das Kapital Records
Gros coup de cœur !
Sur des textes du poète Langston Hughes, Hasse Poulsen et ses complices vous balancent un disque de blues-rock à tomber par terre.
Denis Desassis


  • 04:18 Story Lyrics Ï Dream a World

    I Dream a World

    I dream a world where man

    No other man will scorn,

    Where love will bless the earth

    And peace its paths adorn.

    I dream a world where all

    Will know sweet freedom's way,

    Where greed no longer saps the soul

    Nor avarice blights our day.

    A world I dream where black or white,

    Whatever race you be,

    Will share the bounties of the earth

    And every man is free,

    Where wretchedness will hang its head

    And joy, like a pearl,

    Attends the needs of all mankind--

    Of such I dream, my world!

  • 03:11 Lyrics Request for Requiems

    Request For Requiems

     

    Play the St. Louis Blues

    For me when I die.

    I want some fine music

    Up there in the sky.

     

    Sing the St. James Infirmary

    When you let me down -

    Cause there ain't a good man

    Like me left around.

  • 02:56 Story Lyrics Midnight Raffle

     

    Midnight Raffle

    I put my nickel

    In the raffle of the night.

    Somehow that raffle

    Didn't turn out right.

     

    I lost my nickel

    I lost my time.

    I got right home

    Without a dime.

     

    When I dropped that nickel

    In a subway slot,

    I wouldn't have dropped it,

    Knowing what I got.

     

    I could just as well've

    been home inside:

    My bread wasn't buttered

    On neither side.

NOTES
Das Kapital Records CD15A8

Debbie Cameron voice , piano
Hasse Poulsen guitar, voice
Luc Ex bass guitar
Mark Sanders drums

Open Fist

by Hasse Poulsen / Tom Rainey

Released 11/28/2015
Becoq 17
Released 11/28/2015
Becoq 17
Free conversations in open music. Sometimes the voices are raised and sometimes arguments and anecdotes are just exchanged and elaborated in calm mutual harmony.
Hasse Poulsen: guitar
Tom Rainey: drums
NOTES
recorded in Paris in maj 2014 by Gilles Olivesi.

KIND OF RED

by DAS KAPITAL

Released 11/13/2015
LABEL BLEU
Released 11/13/2015
LABEL BLEU
Kind of Red is like a meeting of militant songs from the twenties with contemporary alternative rock on the timeless stage of jazz.
NOTES
Daniel Erdmann tenor and soprano saxophone
Hasse Poulsen electric and acoustic guitars
Edward Perraud drums

The Man They Cal Ass Sings Until Everything is Sold

by The Man They Cal Ass

Released 09/15/2014
Das Kapital Records
BUY ALBUM
Released 09/15/2014
Das Kapital Records
  • 05:00 Story Lyrics Until Everything is Sold

    Until Everything is Sold

    The beauty of a movie is the commercial breaks
    I’ll put in as many as I think it takes
    To get through with a message, to sell a way of life
    Something soothing, an inflatable wife
    If you ain’t got religion I will sell you one
    You want to find a girl, you can consider it done
    I’ll go from here to heaven and from there to hell
    By the slightest notion that there’s something to sell
     
    I’m a clean cut liberal, I’m a hustler by choice,
    I’m the sign of the times, I’m realistic, my boys.
    I’m a model for the youth, I’m a comfort for the old
    I’m the master of the world
    Until everything is sold
     
    I can smell my way to money, I rely on my nose
    You want to fell a little funny; I will find you the dose
    You want to build a house or have sex with a child
    I’ll make it happen, smoothly with a smile
    Nothing is too low, nothing is too mean
    No man too fat, no woman too leans
    No girl too young, no man too cruel
    I am callous and heartless, I’m slick and I’m cool.
     
    I sell dung to the rich and waste to the poor
    I sold the moon more than once and I’ll sell it once more
    I sell bombs to the tyrants and handguns to their men
    I sell prisons to democracies, Gas chambers, tell me when.
    I surround myself with fear, I will make you believe
    I’m the only solution, everything else is naïve
    I’m as rich as a country, a continent, a globe
    I will leave you only the slightest glimpse of hope.
     
    I sold stars to the commies, pasta to the mob
    I help the IRA doing their job
    I sold friends to Gestapo, jokes to the CIA
    The eleventh of September was a beautiful day
    I sell tanks to the armies and opinions to the press
    Selling chemical weapons had its time I guess
    Nothing is too big, nothing is too small
    I kiss my children before I sell them all.
     
  • 04:57 Story Lyrics I Told You

    I Told You

    Holding hands in the sunshine, making love in the sand

    holding your dreams in the palm of your hand.

    It's love forever, it'a as man and wife.

    He promised you sunshine for the rest of your life.

    But no summer did last forever,

    even the sweetest rose hides a thorn.

    I told you

    I told you

    I told you the day,

    the day you was born

     

    Lying in bed with his arm 'neath your head,

    and his voice building castles in the sand of your heart:

    It's now or never. He'll take it all

    He's strong and clever, you follow the call.

    But a kiss wont cast no shadow.

    Words become hollow and worn

    I told you

    I told you

    I told you the day,

    the day you was born

     

    The days grow colder and the man strong and tall

    with his manners and habits became a brick in the wall.

    You wanted your freedom, he was holding you down.

    You took long lonely walks on the outskirts of town.

    Summer has gone it is winter.

    Fate is blowing his horn

    I told you

    I told you

    I told you the day,

    the day you was born

     

    The snow on the mountain is silent and cold,

    you stand in the wind feeling lonesome and old.

    Well, call him, call him now.

    He waits for a sign. He waits for your vow

    Stay with him through the changing of season.

    Sleep with him into the morn.

    I told you

    I told you

    I told you the day,

    the day you was born.

     

     

  • 02:43 Story Lyrics The President of France is a Criminal

    The President of France is a Criminal

     

    The president of France is a criminal.

    Italy is governed by the mob.

    In Britain there’s a jerk,

    in Poland it’s a clerk

    not one of them can handle the job

     

    The earth around is getting dirty

    chemicals are filling the air.

    They’re cutting down the trees,

    they are emptying the seas

    in a final greedy battle for a share

     

    And then they throw some bombs on a wedding,

    a country is smashed in a week.

    Everyone is running,

    democracy is coming,

    the terror is spreading as we speak

     

    We know that our leaders are liars,

    professional pieces of shit.

    We know they are corrupt,

    we know that it should stop.

    The bottom line has taken a hit.

     

     

    The capital is directed by shadows,

    money has a life of its own.

    People die from hunger,

    firms are getting stronger.

    Who has the guts to throw the first stone?

     

    You shout that you want to see some justice,

    a president or two behind the bars,

    the big shots being nailed,

    investors being jailed.

    I’m afraid that you can shove it up your arse

     

    In Columbia the tanks are rolling.

    The Ivory coast swims in blood.

    Afghanistan is broken,

    Palestine awoken.

    In Sudan people crawl through the mud.

     

    The strong white men keep the power.

    You’ll never make them share the smallest crumb.

    Their laws are infernal,

    but far from eternal.

    Their only place is under our thumb.