Biography:
Electric President is the second of Ben Cooper's projects, this time with Alex Kane. The sound is a mix with folk, pop, electronic, with a sound that would be very much like if you threw The Postal Service, The Decemberists, The Flaming Lips, and George Orwell in a large blender.
They've recorded two albums and one EP under the Electric President moniker, all available under the German imprint Morr Music, with a third to be released in early 2010 on Fake Four Inc.
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Four years of hard work!This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
Bbm
Stand and move and walk across the water.
C#
Peel the cover from the city.
G# F#
Watch its insides twitch and smoke and rotate endlessly.
Bbm
Sinking. Moving deep beneath the water.
C#
Lots of other worlds exist.
G#
Soon enough we’ll tear them open.
F#
Soon enough we’ll break them too.
Bbm
Swimming. Watching concrete eat the ocean.
C#
Metal fingers scrape the skies.
G# F#
The windows look like Christmas lights from out here.
Bbm
Floating. Counting clouds. They’re slowly fading.
C#
Blending in with cardboard skies.
G#
Soon we’ll manufacture replicas.
F#
It’s all replaceable.
C#
From the sky, the train tracks look like stitches.
Bbm
Like they’re holding the world together; like it’ll blow any minute.
G#
And I’ve got another thought I’ll keep to myself.
F#
Until the skeletons walk free. Until the make-up all comes off.
C#
There’s nothing new to discover, there’s nothing new to invent.
Bbm
There’s nothing new to think that hasn’t been thought of before.
G#
And there’s nothing to believe we haven’t already forgotten.
F#
There’s nothing left, there’s nothing new, there’s nothing—
N.C.
No, no, no, no.
C#
And I’ve got another dream I’ll keep to myself.
Bbm
Until the tyrants are dead and the patriots are swallowed whole.
G#
And I’ve got a bottle I can aim at the center,
Full of letters, as a kid, I’d always meant to send.
F#
We’d speak our minds and change the world.
We’d fix the past and pave the way.
C#
But now we’re fresh out of heroes; now we’ve run dry on hope.
Bbm
There are no saviors in technology: just quick fixes.
G#
And holes, within holes, within holes, within you.
F#
And a place to hang my head, and convince myself there is no difference.
C# Bbm G# F#
Stand and move and walk across the water.
C#
Peel the cover from the city.
G# F#
Watch its insides twitch and smoke and rotate endlessly.
Bbm
Sinking. Moving deep beneath the water.
C#
Lots of other worlds exist.
G#
Soon enough we’ll tear them open.
F#
Soon enough we’ll break them too.
Bbm
Swimming. Watching concrete eat the ocean.
C#
Metal fingers scrape the skies.
G# F#
The windows look like Christmas lights from out here.
Bbm
Floating. Counting clouds. They’re slowly fading.
C#
Blending in with cardboard skies.
G#
Soon we’ll manufacture replicas.
F#
It’s all replaceable.
C#
From the sky, the train tracks look like stitches.
Bbm
Like they’re holding the world together; like it’ll blow any minute.
G#
And I’ve got another thought I’ll keep to myself.
F#
Until the skeletons walk free. Until the make-up all comes off.
C#
There’s nothing new to discover, there’s nothing new to invent.
Bbm
There’s nothing new to think that hasn’t been thought of before.
G#
And there’s nothing to believe we haven’t already forgotten.
F#
There’s nothing left, there’s nothing new, there’s nothing—
N.C.
No, no, no, no.
C#
And I’ve got another dream I’ll keep to myself.
Bbm
Until the tyrants are dead and the patriots are swallowed whole.
G#
And I’ve got a bottle I can aim at the center,
Full of letters, as a kid, I’d always meant to send.
F#
We’d speak our minds and change the world.
We’d fix the past and pave the way.
C#
But now we’re fresh out of heroes; now we’ve run dry on hope.
Bbm
There are no saviors in technology: just quick fixes.
G#
And holes, within holes, within holes, within you.
F#
And a place to hang my head, and convince myself there is no difference.
C# Bbm G# F#
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