Title In Limbo(1983)OverviewTracksLyrics
Renaldo & the Loaf is a British band from Portsmouth who are great Residents fans. They wrote into the contest W.E.I.R.D. put on to decide on an expansion of their acronym, but instead of simply submitting a phrase they wrote songs. They came to the attention of The Residents when Renaldo (Brian Poole) was on a vacation in San Francisco. He stopped by The Residents headquarters at 444 Grove St. and dropped off a sampler tape. The Residents were so impressed that they sent Jay Clem off to the UK to sign them for Ralph Records, for whom they made Songs for Swinging Larvae.
The two of them visited Ralph Records in person in March of 1981, shortly after they were signed, to film their Songs for Swinging Larvae video, for which The Residents acted as executive producers. After the video was completed, they jammed with The Residents to see if they could produce an album together in the four days they had left. It wasn't enough time, but they did get about 45 minutes of music onto a master tape. The Residents did some post-production on the recording and stuck it on a shelf for the time being.
Renaldo & the Loaf met The Residents again backstage after the Hammersmith Odeon performance of the Mole Show and the idea of doing an album together was revived. Brian Poole flew over to San Francisco for three weeks in September, 1983, to pick up where things had been left off (Dave Janssen (the Loaf) couldn't make it and sent tapes of his contributions instead). The album was completed during Poole's stay and was released the following November.
Title in Limbo did fairly well for Ralph Records, selling enough copies that Renaldo & the Loaf bought an 8-track recording studio with their share of the royalties. Reviews were favorable, though everyone agreed that the finished product sounded nothing like either Renaldo & the Loaf or The Residents.
Intro: Version
The Shoe Salesman
Crashing
Monkey & Bunny
Mahogany Wood
Sitting on the Sand
Africa Tree
Woman's Weapon
Horizontal Logic
The Sailor Song
Extra: Version
Expand allIntro: Version
Instrumental
The Shoe Salesman
Sometimes I feel her feet
When I am fast asleep
I know that I am dreaming
But the touch is soft and sweet
I know that I am dreaming
I went to see my mother
She told me of a lover
She had a long long time ago
She'll never have another
He put her on his bed
And looked at her instead
Of making love
He laughed a lot
And this is what he said
"Truth comes out of fiction
Love comes our of friction
Purity is interesting
But so is superstition"
And so I go to work
I'm just a short shoe clerk
And open up the store and say
"Hello, my name is Bert"
While I look at feet
My thoughts are bitter-sweet
I sure did love her black high heels
They were so indiscreet
But I am not bitter
Nor am I out to get her
I care so very much for her
I just want her shoes to fit her
Crashing
The weather vane was pointing eastward
When we heard the sound
Of rolling thunder underneath
The shed above the ground
The gentle breezes long ago
Had given way to rain
When moving in between the clouds
We saw a snaking plane
As we looked up and stood upon
The field that we had plowed
It seemed to stop and strangulate
Upon the darkest cloud
It made a graceful arching dive
Into a field of grass
Yesterday we found a purse
Today we found some glass
Monkey & Bunny
There was a little man
Who ran a shoe shine stand
Everyday the man would sweep
Clutter from the busy street
He seldom said a word
That anybody heard
There was something in his face
That could never be erased
Like a broken pup
He looked up from the cup
He drank his morning coffee in
And wiped the dribbles from his chin
And when his eyes met mine,
He made a little whine
He came within an inch or two
And then he whispered "I hate you"
"How did he know?"
"Once I had some pets
And let them starve to death
It was a funny little monkey
And a big white Easter Bunny
They lived in little cages
And sometimes in rages
I would turn them upside down
And drag the monkey all around"
Mahogany Wood
I wish I was something
I wish I was good
I wish I was made
Of mahogany wood
I wish I were bigger
I wish I was tall
I wish I had houses
Instead of this hall
That somebody put me
Inside of one day
I know who he was
But he won't let me say
He looks at me sometimes
And sometimes he knocks
On doorways beside me
And sometimes he rocks me
To sleep in a chair
For he knows that I need
Affection as much
As a cut needs to bleed
Sitting on the Sand
Sitting on the sand
Sitting on the sand
Winga wonga bim bom man
Eat a piece of Pongo's hand
It will sit upon your neck
Like it was a narcotic
Sitting on the sand
Sitting on the sand
Africa Tree
Instrumental
Woman's Weapon
Cylinders were silhouetted
Up against the sky
The sunset makes
The maple Leaves
Look lavender
She sighed
I guess she's right,
I barely thought
And then I turned and said
Was it murder
That had hurt her
Or something that I said?
They said it was a woman's weapon
Small enough to hide
Inside a simple pocketbook
Or underneath a bride
Could it be, my son, that she
Slipped into suicide?
I do not think her thoughtlessness
Was always a bona fide.
I guess she's right,
I thought again
And then I heard her say
'She was never on your side
But simply in the way.
Let it go, for it is over
I will take your hand
And we will watch our
Willows wave
And wait for wonderland.'
Horizontal Logic
Once I arose from a small
Wooden chair
Opened the window and
Started to stare
At roses that grow
In a vertical way
Because there is sunshine
Above them each day
I smiled at the roses
And started to think
Of the beauty that lay
In this logical link
If life was as simple
As just growing flowers
Think of the minutes
And seconds and hours
We never would wait
On our feelings of trust
Loyalty, honesty, love
Or disgust.
The Sailor Song
I went to see the silent sailor
And the sailor said
"Do not forget my face, my friend,
For if you do I'm dead"
"Well I don't see how that could be"
I said to him as well
As peeling off a piece of paper
Stuck to my lapel
The sailor fell upon his knees
And then he fell beside
The cedar chest that he had carved
And then I think he died
Well this was curious, I thought
And so I wandered in
And saw that there was something written
On his wrinkled skin
"I thought the thoughts of little children
And the thoughts of men
I thought the thoughts of stupid people
Who have never been
So much in love as they should be
And got confused too easily
To fall in love again
To fall in love again
And so I say goodbye to you
And hope that maybe someday soon
We will meet again up there
For death is fair
And friends are few
Extra: Version
Instrumental
