Hangman's Daughter

by Matthew B Everett

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Matt decided to try for a stripped down sound on this, his second full-length recording and only true "solo" album. Like the first album (Little Epiphany), this one features a Yeats poem set to music, in this case "First Love," a simple, wistful, somewhat bitter number. The influence of forays into the "weird folk" genre with the bands Iditarod and Fern Knight can be discerned on some tracks here, although Richard Thompson, Nick Drake and other more obscure folkisms had got their hooks in long before. Instrumentation includes vocals either solitary or layered, lots of acoustic guitars, some electrics, violin, viola, accordion, and mandolin. This album bears no particular relation to "The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter" by the Incredible String Band, though a Robin Williamson tune-book did figure in the artist's early music education.


released February 2, 2002

This album was engineered in 2002 by Jed Marshall initially, and then later additionally by Joe Auger. Matt Everett sang all the songs and played all the instruments. Cover photo by Julie Parsons.



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Matthew B Everett Providence, Rhode Island

Rhode Island-based musician/composer Matt Everett has recorded about five albums. He performs solo and as MG with drummer Greg Motta. He has also done various music for films, dance pieces, circuses, etc. His most recent record White Sugar is put out by 75orLess and can be purchased on their website, and also from iTunes and Amazon! ... more

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Track Name: First Love
Though nurtured like the sailing moon
In beauty's murderous brood,
She walked awhile and blushed awhile
And on my pathway stood
Until I thought her body bore
A heart of flesh and blood.

But since I laid a hand thereon
And found a heart of stone
I have attempted many things
And not a thing is done,
For every hand is lunatic
That travels on the moon.

She smiled and that transfigured me
And left me but a lout,
Maundering here, and maundering there,
Emptier of thought
Than the heavenly circuit of its stars
When the moon sails out.
Track Name: World War 3
In September's sun, everything's been done and everything's the same. In the pissing rain, you can wait all day, beside a window, for the day to go away. The sound of cars, the fear of bombs, it's enough to keep you in between the pillows sinking.
I stayed in bed till everything was read and nothing had been said on the television screen. I'll watch the plants grow -- wandering Jew, oregano -- as the bodies pile up and the cold winds blow.
There's a smell of death, a lingering unease, here in the kingdom, under a covenant of greed. We can make believe that we're underground, we can look within and talk about what we've found -- how we are not moved, as the bodies pile up in mounds.
Track Name: Barbed Wire
You're a building collapsing, I'm an old freight train, where you hang out your washing, just in time for rain.