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Sleep Furiously

by Thumpermonkey

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Rod Sedgwick
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Rod Sedgwick Hot damn!
I’m smitten with this discovery and furiously devouring Thumpermonkey’s discography.
I’ve searched high and low for a copy of this masterwork on CD but no avail. Keep at it lads, you are a treasure! Favorite track: Defecit.
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Finbar 4/5 - Thumpermonkey manage to be innovative, dissonant, melodic and brilliant all at the same time, with some At the Drive-In, Oceansize and King Crimson thrown in there. An absolute hidden gem of a band, just listen to Wheezyboy for proof. Favorite track: Wheezyboy.
Jamie (Audio Antihero)
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Jamie (Audio Antihero) This makes me miss South London. I love this record, even more so than the amazing previous EP. "Wheezyboy" is the star of the show for me. Favorite track: Wheezyboy.
Adrian Mitchell
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Adrian Mitchell A cracking good album, love it! Favorite track: Wheezyboy.
Þorsteinn Jónsson
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Þorsteinn Jónsson Unique, intresting, powerful, moving. Favorite track: Wheezyboy.
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    Jewel case, w. artwork by Lee Mason (www.lee-mason.co.uk).

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If you are a synastheste, I glow. Hit you with a phantom limb, I'm your Otherkin, I'm indigo. Take me back to Amsterdam, I'll wait by the koi pond. Wait for the surgeons to fill up my eyes with their stars. Now they're digging, and they're digging, and they're digging til they find someone new. This is what happens when scouts go bad. I hit the slopes with those therianthrope ladies. Do the backside hand-plant for my babies. They all say that I should get a horn made of teflon implanted. Sounds rippin' to me, I'm going back to the Netherlands. Wait til the surgeons swab my body down with iodine.
Direct 06:55
I wake up, on the floor, by the crystallising meat. Try to stand but I fall, thrash about, knock the pretzels over. Blue-eyed children, (ablaze like Eugenics Endemol©), beam at me from the socks, and I start to cry out - "tell me what am I looking for?" Shopping list in my hand, but the products are occult. Maybe sweat, maybe tears, makes the writing indecipherable. But I did not black out, it's just my attention span. I'm appalled, I'm in slacks and I start to cry out "tell me what am I looking for?" So they take me outside. It feels like each one of us just breaks out to break in, and we never look back again. If it takes more effort to explain than it does to say then be quiet. Who'd have thought when you climbed to the top of the mountain that you'd find a swamp. If you want to know terror, take a holiday. It's on an empty stomach. I'm not responsible. I'm not responsible. Thank god i don't have the words for this, i cant tell you what colour it is. Can't pick out its shape out in a Rorschach so pass it on pass it on pass it on. Thank god i don't have the words for this, i cant tell you what colour it is cant pick out its shape out in a Rorschach again. Today i saw a sign on the regents canal, and it said 'if you see a man without a smile give him yours'; why would I wanna do that? If you see a man without a smile then give him yours. Are you havin' a bubble? This underwritten grin is the only thing that keeps my teeth apart; stops them clamping down on your fingers. I won't tell you what colour this is, I'll erode a smile right into the bone and as long as I live I'll never learn to say anything direct at all. You'll have to prise it from my cold dead face. Cos it's mine. I worked hard. I worked hard for this. If you want to know terror, take a holiday. It's on empty stomach. I'm not responsible. I'm not responsible.
Wheezyboy 04:34
Who borrowed you my fingers? Spit, mascara, knuckle – eye. You panda streak, I don't know what we talked about. Drop gather to cloudburst, your running pace won't help me fly, and all I'll have tomorrow is a broken mouth. Brought luck and good intentions, months curled in a sick bed; I'm sweating pure salbutamol, don't kiss my face. You want the piece I mentioned, hold my nose and cracked my head. Dig into my mouth, find chewed up love replaced. Put it right back where you found it, put it right back where you found it, put it away. Foxfire. This ain't no hullabullusion. High Wire; She hits the floor like original sin. Foxfire, oh lock and load, I hunt it down, before I know it I'm a P-Pariah chewing on a misfire. Just wait a, give me a, just wait a, I need a second. It's buried in my stomach, I'll fawn and patter round your feet, but if you think I'm worth the effort then I'll run a mile. Forgot thow to be Holy, I've long forgotten how to read, missing teeth in bad dreams, I should learn to dance. Tongue cut on my chin again, please put me in the bathtub. Feed me a banana, stop me, seeing stars.
Defecit 06:28
When I went back, everyone had shipped out. All of that energy and loss sealed up in a crate, filed away. Smudging a form no-one interrogates. Stolen ache. It’s meaningless to anyone apart from me. This is the wound that's ever so cruelly healed. I'm betting it all I'm betting it happens all again I mourn for something that is rendered down to evidence, evidence that doesn't mean a thing to anybody else. You said, the will of mammon is tipping us back, closing its fist. Evil nymphet-actuary; I’ll file you right here with me. When you explain, what I need to do to get in, to get what I want, I know that I’m already breakfast. Someone, like you to scatter the patolli beans. I’m betting it all, I’m betting it happens all again forever. I couldn't concentrate, your eyes were alight and your sacred geometrics mapped the sparks in the firmament’s dome. How likely is it that I’m going to get it now, if I am never sure about contributing? I always beg for what you need to disallow. Your body and your face are redistributing. Don’t look back again any more.
Arms full o' pinchbeck. Sunburned in the reeds. I don't dislike you as the Seneschal says I should. You tell me I'm the strangest seed that you've ever seen sprouting up from the maternal cave mouth. And you laugh at me, and I laugh at you. Nobody thought such a pair as us would ever drain the blue blood out of the sky. Only comforted by gripping the things we hide up our sleeves like they were our souls. Nobody thought that such a pair as us could render our bones to chalk, become lovers riddled with holes. Cos you were just as brittle as me. Wait for either me or you to cut the brakes and embody our ambition. All that we have left to do with our mistakes; each to play the rhetorician. Even if we shared a single body, you in the left, and me in the right, I'd pull back your sleeve - find another sleeve.
Pigheart 03:40
Sleeve 05:26
I know that you can see me standing in the pitch dark, you know my aim is always true. Although, while we wait for our moment, there's always something starts to shine; something stuck in the road. I see the way you're checking out the things that I loot when I create my distractions. Maybe it's just the angles, babe. Maybe it's gravity, not our small infractions. There's no mystical remedy, and no comfort when, we both say, "If you watch my back, I'll watch your yours, until the torches fizzle out." Did we get so encumbered that we forgot that we can't move? Why you always joke about my armour class. You level up in the village. I see how much experience you steal from me. This - it wasn't in the prenup. Wait for either me or you to cut the brakes. Cos you and I know statistics are the only things that keep us alone, while we're sitting here side by side. So take a razor to the spine. Cut the faces out all day, 'til it feels like you are waking. You'll never make your face or mine from the paper scraps. We - we are not there for the making. I KNOW YOU CAN SEE ME STANDING IN THE PITCH DARK YOU KNOW MY AIM IS ALWAYS TRUE. Did we get so encumbered that we forgot that we can't move? I know that you can see me standing in the pitch dark you know my aim is always true. All that we have left to do with our mistakes; each to play the rhetorician.
Own 03:57
Back in that life when I heard you wish it fall. Gravid sky filling the parish with fear - God has butterfingers. Umbrella skeletons litter the street as the rain-hammer empties the town. Told me not to write songs about you - this is me on my own. There's no other way. Little tooth, giving up on the first floor stairs. You and me had a good thing, but I guess, its just what you ate. Take you outside and I'll give you the speech and ill finish you off with my shoe. shampoo the carpet. Remember you told me I shouldn't write songs about you. This is me on my own. The neighbour I don't know kicks off now every night. Tomorrow she will not remember a thing of our ugly hour. I can still call it home. Just somewhere we can love the way that you toy with us all...(no) Songs and no witnesses. Stars in an airtight container, a skeleton shaving the bars. This is me on my own. If I see you again - out in the flood that nobody but me seems to feel. Watch from a distance, I'll smile and I'll gasp as I pinhole your beautiful magnetic storms. No songs about you.
Toxcatl 04:40
Falling in spears; your light is marking the tombs out for your mice and your insects. People you know. You say, "You have your festival, Just leave their hearts..." - El que acomete vence. Leave them inside. Fingerprints smeared in eclipses. Black crescent moons smothering our Virgin Mary's face in the church. Couldn't tear her down; they couldn't work the nails from the walls. You're heating embers for their stomachs. Open and drain out your youth. But he says, come on and throw me off of my palace roof. All you flowers,open and drain out. Even in, in the dream, you're still dreaming of. Even in, in the dream, you're still dreaming of somewhere else, and...so they cut new Mary with their nettles and skulls. Blood and their seed dough and feathers. You say "Is this war", while you heat embers Collect your harvest of dead. But they still know what you're thinking; they're gonna be right. Cos they get right behind. They get right behind and ahead. Everything rings out with gentle loss nothing to hold, hanging below. Still I can't shake the idea, it's why they're so, so, afraid of the horses now the stable's is on fire. All of us spread out for miles - nothing to hold, hanging below. Nothing but new clouds arms outstretched like you'd reach for your mother to carry you home.
Blackout 05:25
Our 4.00am date, sinking polish lager. No tizer for you. They want me to think someone else bought those Gauloises for you. Of course. I doubt that, though the suggestion of illegality adds some kind of loping frisson. I DON’T CARE. Tell me what you like. I'm too limp to like on your behalf. I wish someone had bought a bag to put all yesterdays leftover fun into. You look at me i look at you again. Like i did yesterday. Our tiny date is done now, i'm feeling used, but hungry. When you walk in on yourself you can't pretend you were watching Monk, Scrubs, House, Chips...Yesterday's fun is no fun at all I know respect is not erotic. I've got to say I admire your working ethic. But when we meet I know you're somewhere else; eating Panini, claiming back the tax on, your shoes, your laundry, and your anti bacterial spray. You tell me that isn't exploitation? I truly do not know what is. I do not know what is. Keep on meeting in the dark, meeting in the dark, meeting in the dark. If the meat is cheap, well you should question your purchase before you question the butcher in his shop.
Quiet Earth 02:02



“…their often bewildering mastery of everything – King Crimson like angularity and dissonance, the blissful pop dynamics of the Cardiacs, and the esoteric post-hardcore audacity of Shudder to Think – amount to a sustained victory for intuitive cross-pollination…most importantly, Thumpermonkey’s music is ridiculously exciting; the blazing light of punk rock filtered skilfully through the cerebral prog prism…”

“…deliciously, fiendishly inventive rhythms, big-boots guitar noise, and a mellifluous tenor, redolent of a young Peter Gabriel…”

“It’s hard to see past how good the music is, to how hard it was to make, which is just as it should be, because it never really matters how technically demanding an artwork is to conceive or execute. What matters is the effect it has on its audience; for this small particle thereof, truth is beauty, beauty is truth, and Thumpermonkey’s latest album is amply provided with both.”

“Thumpermonkey are not a normal band. In fact, listening to their new record, “Sleep Furiously”, I’m not entirely sure if they’re in any way normal people….a mighty impressive job, and no mistake. (8/10)”

“With each passing release they’ve matured and sophisticated their song craft to a point where the comparable doffing of musical caps can be made with the heavyweights new and old of the progressive rock fraternity.”


released October 31, 2012

Michael Woodman, Ben Wren, Sam Warren and Rael Jones


all rights reserved



Thumpermonkey London, UK

A person in space, walking, or adrift, but safe, exploring, freedom, discovery.

A clockwork piano contraption, like a giant ballerina box, but turning a big totem pole, around which smart office dressed people slowly dance with dead glazed eyes as a slightly out of tune slow Satie-like Lydian melody loops round.

White men in pith helmets hunting large animals to extinction.
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