JAZMINA CININAS

The gremlins are lurking, can't get anything working
On the printmaking presses tonight
There’s a cut in my paper and a tear in the blanket
Think the pressure might be over-tight
My ink is looking spare,
Is that another hair?
Still searching for the backing sheets
I’m down on my tarlatan, running outta rags
Oh, I swear I’m like a hot plate, turned up to eleven
Starting to overheat
 
(Ooo..) Goin’ crazy tryin’a make a print where every little thing
(Ooo..) Is pure and good and right Ooo Ooo Ooo 
(Ooo..)Still a ton of revisions, before I edition,
(Ooo..) None of them are black and white
(Ooo..)Without any doubt, registration is out,
(Ooo..)The image could be better drawn,  Ooo-oo-oo-oo-ooo
So I gotta keep proofing, it can only get better
If I’m counting the flaws
I’ve barely just begun
 
Like a B.A.T. out of hell
Every print I’ve been pulling is wrong
I’m making micro-adjustments but whatever I’m doing is
Wrong, wrong, wrong
Like a B.A.T. out of hell
Every print I’ve been pulling is wrong
(Aah..) When the blanket’s down
(Aah..) And the wheel’s gone round
(Aah..)  And I’m holding my last proof oo-oo-oo
Like a beginner before the worst print ever
I’ll be ripping up this one too
 
I’m cranking up the presses just as hard as I can
I’m determined, gonna get one right
Trying every plate in every orientation
And bumping up the opaque white
But nothing here to show, still no good to go
And every proof has bitten the dust
And nothing’s printing up and nothing’s lining up
And nothing’s looking worth the fuss
 
(Ooo..)I’ve added in a little smidge of ultramarine,
(Ooo..)Tried a little cobalt too.
(Ooo..)But I’d rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned Ooo-oo-oo-oo
(Ooo..)If I’m adding in the Prussian blue
Well, I’d rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned,
If I’m adding in the Prussian blue
Well, I’d rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned,
Rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned,
Rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned,
If I’m adding in the Prussian,
Adding in the Prussian,
Adding in the Prussian blue
 
Goin’ crazy tryin’a make a print where every little thing
Is pure and good and right
Still a ton of revisions, before I edition,
None of them are black and white
Still not any doubt, registration is out, 
Still looking like a pile of dung,
So I gotta keep proofing, it can only get better
Gotta sort out the flaws
Before I see the sun
 
Like a B.A.T. out of hell
Every print I’ve been pulling is wrong
I’m making micro-adjustments but whatever I’m doing is
Wrong, wrong, wrong
Like a B.A.T. out of hell
Every print I’ve been pulling is wrong
(Aah..) When the blanket’s down
(Aah..) And the wheel’s gone round
(Aah..) And I’m holding my last proof oo-oo-oo
Like a beginner before the worst print ever
I’ll be ripping up this one too

Like a beginner before the worst print ever
I’ll be ripping up this one too
 
Well, I can see myself, tearing out my hair
After
Peeling back to find another dud
And I’ve under-etched and I’ve over-wiped
And tried fifty-seven different ways to ink up my plates
But I still can't pull a good proof
Every time I lift the blanket, damn! there's another mistake.
 
Every time I lift the blanket, damn! yet another mistake.
 
(Ooo..) And I’m down to the bottom of my 55981 
(Ooo..) Torn my paper, every single last sheet is gone
(Aah... )But I think somebody somewhere must have cast a spell
Cause the last proof I pull is a thing
Of beauty
It’s a print of perfection, in every way
It’s a hellava B.A.T.
 
And I’m scraping the bottom of my 55981
Torn my paper, every single last sheet is gone
(Ooo..) But I think somebody somewhere must have cast a spell
Cause the last proof I pull is a thing
Of beauty, of beauty
It’s a print of perfection, in every way
It’s a hellava B.A.T.
Oh, it’s a hellava B.A.T.
Oh, it’s a hellava B.A.T.
Oh, like a B.A.T. out of hell (As a new day dawns I can finally print my run)
Oh, like a B.A.T. out of hell (Only just begun, yeah I still gotta print my run)
Oh, like a B.A.T. out of hell
Ooo...

Meatloaf & Jim Steinman, Bat Out of Hell, 1977

E Am C7

Sometimes, there’s a voice in your head
Says you gotta get out, somewhere better instead
It’s time to print, you’re just not able
You need more space, you need more tables
In a workshop in a mud brick town
With gums and wallabies all around
Roller on ink the only sound
In a studio in a mud brick town
 
Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line
I’m heading out to Baldessin
Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line
I’m heading out to
 
F.                      Bb  C7   F
Baldessin, oh Baldessin,
F                        F7              Bb        Gm7 
I can hear Tess Edwards calling
C7    F.                           Bb.      Bb Am Gm
Silvi sets the presses rolling
C.           Dm
Get my printing done
Here at
 
Baldessin
 
Saturday market, chattering voices
So many chais so many choices
Classic? Spice? Mug? Pot?
Which one have you got?
Have you had it, do you drink it
If so, how often
Which do you choose
The cow or soy option?
(The powder or tea?)
 
Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line
I’m heading out to Baldessin
Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line
I’m heading out to
 
Baldessin, oh Baldessin,
Got a workshop to be doing
Silvi gets the coffee brewin’
Crank up the Albion
Here at
 
Baldessin
Baldessin
 
Aaaaa…
Aaaaa…
Aaaaa…
Aaaaa…
 A.                                       B.      A.         B
And it’s always been my fantasy
C#m                                         B.             A
Win a fellowship from the State Library
A                                B             E
Saving money with my own sheets
                    B.       A
In a garret in the sun
Here at
​D Eb E
Baldessin
 
Barbie Kjar is bringing it home
Mokulito on wood not stone
Photogravure’s
Not just a fad
Check out Lloyd’s bromilliads
Holy Moses! A kangaroo!
Drop my pizza from a Boy Named Sue
(with double vegan cheese!)
 
Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line
I’m heading out to Baldessin
Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line
I’m heading out to
 
Baldessin, oh Baldessin,
Where I feel the Enjay sighing
Where my latest prints are drying
                    Dm             C.                Bb.          Am.       Gm
Where the ghost of George still walks among the gums
​Gm A D
At Baldessin
 
At Baldessin

 

Neil Tennant & Chris Lowe (Pet Shop Boys), West End Girls, 1986
Jimmy Webb (for Glen Campbell), Galveston, 1969