Exposure

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Exposure.jpg

Originally released: 1979

Personnel

  • Robert Fripp (guitar, frippertronics)
  • Daryl Hall (vocals)
  • Peter Hammill (vocals)
  • Terre Roche (vocals)
  • Peter Gabriel (vocals, piano)
  • Jerry Marotta (drums)
  • Narada Michael Walden (drums)
  • Phil Collins (drums)
  • Tony Levin (bass, bass guitar)
  • Brian Eno (synthesizer, voice)
  • Barry Andrews (organ)
  • Sid McGinniss (pedal steel, rhythm guitar)
  • Joanna Walton (words)

And the voices of (among others):

  • Shivapuri Baba
  • J.G. Bennett
  • Mrs Edith Fripp
  • Mrs Evelyn Harris

For details about which performer performed on which track see Claas Kazzer's Exposure Pages.

Contents

Tracks

(Note: click on title for lyrics)

Details courtesy of Claas Kazzer's Exposure Pages.

Lyrics

You Burn Me Up I'm A Cigarette

Words by Robert Fripp.

You burn me up I'm a cigarette
You hold my hand I begin to sweat
You make me nervous
Ooh I'm nervous
It must be real bad karma
For this to be my dharma
With you 

You burn me up I'm a cigarette
Life with you is a loser's bet
You make me crazy
Ooh I'm going crazy
Your therapeutic antics
Well they really make me frantic
With you 

Strategic interaction irreducible fraction
Terminal inaction and a bitter hostile faction
I'm getting anxious
I'm franxious
Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases
We 

You burn me up I'm a cigarette
Demanding my attention which you're not gonna get
What did the sage mean?
What had the sage seen?
Musical elation is my only consolation
Oh yeah 

You burn me up I'm about to ignite
When you tell me you love me I give up this fight
I'm feeling put down my feelings shut down
I want rejuvenation from male emancipation 

[note: some releases omit printing this verse] 

Strategic interaction terminal inaction
A bitter hostile faction irreducible fraction
Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases
We

Disengage

Words by Joanna Walton.

Mrs Marion is strict with her servant
Behind locked doors over coffee they speak
They speak to my sister my parents
And I'm trying hard not to shriek
Disengage
Disengage
Disengage 

She decodes my secrets my fragments
I'd create any betrayal for their sake
She asks me to wait in the hallway
Where I'm doing my best not to shake
Disengage
Disengage
Disengage 

Muttering words to her for convenience
I start to head for the door
Mrs Marion screams over my shoulder
Walking out's just another metaphor 

North Star

Words by Joanna Walton.

North Star
We stare
How far
How clear 

Now touch
Touch here
Now warm
Now near
Now near 

Within
With you
With love
With love
How sweet
How filled
Now time
Now time
Now touch
How sweet
How near
How filled
Now time
Times still
I'm still
Tonight 

North star
We stare
How far
How clear
How far
How clear
How far
How clear
Now touch
Touch here
Now warm
Now near
Within you
With you
With love
With love
With love 

I stand in the hallway
She stands in the hall
I stand at the doorway
She stands at the door
I lean in the window
She leans on the wind
I wait for beginnings
She waits for the end 

North star
North star
How far
How clear
Now touch
Touch here
Now warm
Now near
Now near
How far
How clear
Now touch
Touch here
Now warm
Now near
Now near 

Chicago

Words by Joanna Walton.

I smile like Chicago
She laughs like the breeze
I try so hard to charm her
With minor mysteries
I collide with her softness
With whispers and pleas
Echoes of the movements
Delicate obscenties 

It's a one quarter rain dance
Half of it's prayer
It's a simplest romance
Rattles high in the air
She's the gentlest pretender
I'm a clown on a spree
Still it's sweet to remember
The way it might be 

I smile like Chicago 

NY3

Father:
      Your house
Daughter: 
      My house
Father: 
      Your house
Daughter:
      My house
Father: 
      Your house
Daughter:
      My house
      Well get out there's the door
      Well get out there's the door
      Well get out there's the door
      Well get out there's the door
Father: 
      It is not your house
      It is not your house
      It is not your house
      It is not your house
      It is not your house
Mother: 
      And you're a cocaine sniffer
      And you're a cocaine sniffer
      And you're a cocaine sniffer
      And you're a cocaine sniffer
      Don't you call me a slut
Father:
      No
Mother:
      You're carrying a baby
      You don't know whether it's a nigger a spic or a white baby 
      Don't you call me a slut
Father:
      No
Mother:
      You're carrying a baby
      You don't know whether it's a nigger a spic or a white baby
      You've got to go for an abortion baby
      I never had to
Father:
      No way never
Mother:
      You've got to go for an abortion baby
      I never had to
Father:
      No way never
Mother: 
      You're carrying a baby 
      You don't know whether it's a nigger a spic or a white baby 
      You've got to go for an abortion baby
      I never had to
Father:
      No way never
Father:
      Your house
Daughter:
      My house
Father:
      Your house
Daughter:
      My house
Father:
      Your house
      Your house
Daughter:
      My house
Father:
      Your house
Daughter:
      My house
      Well get out there's the door

Mary

Words by Joanna Walton.

That a creature could be so lonely
It became my deepest wish 
To give her my love 
To embrace her forever 
And to have her find some peace 
She who was so lonely 
Came with volumes of feeling I have never known 
Except perhaps for Mary 
And she was always my sister 
And she was always my sister 

That a creature could be so lonely 
It became my deepest wish 
To give her my love 
To embrace her forever 
And to have her find some peace 
She who was so lonely 
Came with volumes 
Volumes of feeling 
I have never known 
Except perhaps for Mary 
And she was always my sister 

I May Not Have Had Enough Of Me But I've Had Enough Of You

Words by Joanna Walton.

That is the way it is because it is that way 
It is that way in that it is the way it is 
In the way that it is that way that is the way it is 
In the way that that is the way that is the way it is that isit is the way 
Or, that it is that way is the way it is 
The way it is that is the way it is 
In that it is the way it is is because it is that way 
Or that it is the way that it is is the way that it is that 
That is the way that it is the way that it is is the way thatit is that way 

I may not have enough of me but I've had enough of you 

Here Comes The Flood

Words by Peter Gabriel.

When the night shows the signals grow on radios 
All the strange things they come and go as early warnings 
Stranded starfish have no place to hide 
Still waiting for the swollen easter tide 
There's no point in direction 
We cannot even choose a side 
Crowd 

Lord here comes the flood 
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood 
If again the seas are silent in any still alive 
It'll be those who gave their island to survive 
Drink up dreamers you're running dry 

I took the old track 
The hollow shoulder, across the waters 
On the tall cliffs 
They were getting older; sons and daughters 
The jaded underworld was riding high 
Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky 
And as the nails sunk in the cloud 
The rain was warm and soaked the crowd 

When the flood calls 
You have no home, you have no walls 
In the thunder crash 
You're a thousand minds, within a flash 
Don't be afraid to cry at what you see 
The actors gone, there's only you and me 
And if we break before the dawn 
They'll use up what we used to be 

© 1978 EG Music Ltd. except
"Here Comes The Flood" © 1978 Peter Gabriel Ltd. / Hit & Run Music Publishing Inc.

Reviews

Reviews are listed in chronological order within each section. Please retain a chronological order when adding new reviews.

Entire Release

Date Submitted: 27-Jan-98
By: Sandy Starr (alexander.starr at mansfield dot oxford dot ac dot uk)

"'Exposure' is a stunning album, and one of my favourite to come out of the Fripp/Crimson stable. Its fragmented sequence of short pieces, interspersed with typically Frippian snatches of conversation and dialogue, lends itself well to repeated listening. The incredible intensity of the album probably stems from the complete change of Fripp's mental and spiritual outlook in the late seventies, his first involvement with the IACE Sherbourne House, his first development of the degree of discipline that governs his life and music to this day, and the beginning of his 'Drive to 1981'.

"'Breathless' is an impeccable Fripp instrumental, up there with 'Red' and 'Lark's Tongues II' - it sounds like 'Fracture' from 'Starless And Bible Black' with all the careful build-up discarded to leave a concise piece of sinister, guitar-driven music. Hammill's voice lends itself perfectly to the agression of 'Disengage' and ' I May Not Have Had Enough Of Me But I've Had Enough Of You'. NY3 brings out the same agression, which I love so much, by setting it to the endlessly looped sounds of domestic altercation. And as a bonus, 'Exposure' is much funkier than the version on Peter Gabriel's second album, and the beauty of 'Here Comes The Flood' much more apparent in its quieter, more atmospheric setting than it is on Gabriel's first album. The intermittent Frippertronics are good too. A masterpiece."


Date Submitted: 16-Jul-98
By: Xavier Fabriano (huckcherry at hotmail dot com)

"I was really disappointed by this album. I know Fripp intended it to be "MOR" or "pop" or whatever, but it isn't even that interesting. Despite what people may say, K.C. definately had a pop streak in them. I mean, in the perfect world, songs like "Cat Food," "Book of Saturday," and "Heartbeat" would have been Number One hits, and should anyone doubt the fact that Fripp and company often had a pop sensibility, I direct you to "The Cheerful Insanity of Giles, Giles, and Fripp." But anyhow, I was disappointed because with the exception of "Here Comes The Flood," (which is a Peter Gabriel song) none of the songs boasted a memorable melody. They just seemed like empty genre exercises, and there was very little of that brainiac aura that makes most of K.C.'s material so good. For example, "NY3" sounds like the requisite Fripp instrumental; it's even duller than "Larks Tongue Part 2" and "Fracture" combined! If there is one good thing can be said about this album, that is, along with the Bowie albums, it makes the transition from "Red" to "Discipline" seem more logical, in turn, making the legacy of K.C. more coherent. That says it; a "transitional" album. If you want to hear Fripp and companies best shots at music resembling anything remotely like pop or pop melodies, do your self a favour and pick up a copy of "Sleepless -- The Concise King Crimson.""


Date Submitted: 1-Mar-99
By: Phil Davis (pdavis at lincoln dot ac dot uk)

"I am impelled to write a few words in celebration of this awesome album which is one of my all time favourites. Its a real rollercoaster ride encompassing soothing soundscapes and brainaching chord progressions. Exposure is notable for its great sense of humour and irony which Fripp executes with precision timing; check out the "vinyl massacre" at the termination of "I may not have had enough of me..." or any of the sampled quotes thrown in at just the right moment ("dismal, pathetic chord sequence!"). That's not to say Exposure doesn't have a darker side: "Breathless","Disengage" and "NY3" are truly disturbing in a peculiarly Frippish way, but these bouts of madness are offset by the more reflective "North Star" and "Mary", not to mention Fripp's soundscaping (but he still keeps an edge to these, he doesn't let you relax!). I can't go without praising the words of Joanna Walton, presented above. These lyrics add to the album's vitality and contribute to its staying "fresh". Exposure has a certain quirkiness (the idea that its a phone call for a start!!) but that's not to say the quality of musicianship and songwriting is compromised. It really is quality entertainment from start to finish and even has the feel of a precursor of Thrak when you consider the different styles the album presents. Oh I could go on and on. If you've not heard it, do so!!"
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