Ligature is an unidentified noise rock song recorded off WFMU sometime between 1989 and 1993. The lyrics are a passage from Finnegans Wake by James Joyce.
Search History[]
The song was first posted to the New Wave Outpost forums by user Guglielm on August 23rd, 2012 along with multiple other unknown songs. He didn’t provide any information about the songs.
On April 13th, 2013, Guglielm commented on a WFMU.org page for a playlist made by radio DJ Terre T. He said all of the songs were recorded off of WFMU "ages ago".[1]
A week later, Guglielm commented on a WFMU playlist made by DJ Bob Brainen, specifying that the songs were recorded 20-30 years prior, specifically between 1981-1984 or 1991-1993, off of WFMU.[2]
Guglielm reposted the song to WatZatSong on February 17th, 2014. He said the song was tagged as Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments, but he said he couldn’t find the song.
On September 5th, 2022, user Bloost Media commented on the post, and asked if the song was recorded in the mid 1990s, and Guglielm said he recorded it between 1989-1993.
Eventually, it was discovered the band existed and played on WFMU, but their style isn’t similar and the song isn’t in the band’s discography. The possibility of the song being a demo was unlikely as record static was audible.
Over time, the song was reuploaded to YouTube by multiple users, such as Mike Worst, MistaEgg, Q, S2h, AlianTheObscure, and multiple others, amassing over 5k views.
On March 26th, 2023, Guglielm confirmed that he digitized all of his cassette tapes with the songs on them in the early 1990s, and no longer had any of them anymore.[3]
On August 24th, 2024, a member of Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments was contacted by an anonymous user, and they confirmed the band didn't make the song, but said it sounded like Jim Shepard from V-3.[4]
Lyrics[]
Petty constable Sistersen of the Kruis-Kroon-Kraal it was, the parochial watch, big the dog the dig the bog the bagger the dugger the begadag degabug, who had been detailed from pollute stoties to save him, this the quemquem, that the quum, from the ligatureliablous effects of foul clay in little clots and mobmauling on looks, that wrongcountered the tenderfoot an eveling near the livingsmeansuniumgetherum, Knockmaree, Comty Mea, reeling more to the right than he lurched to the left, on his way from a protoprostitute (he would always have a (stp!) little pigeoness somewhure with his arch girl, Arcoiris, smockname of Mergyt) just as he was butting in rand the coyner of bad times under a hideful between the rival doors of warm bethels of worship through his boardelhouse fongster, greeting for grazious oras as usual: Where ladies have they that a dog meansort herring?
Sergo, search me, the incapable reparteed with a selfevitant subtlety so obviously spurious and, raising his hair, after the grace, with the christmas under his clutcharm, for Portsymasser
and Purtsymessus and Pertsymiss and Partsymasters, like a prance of findingos, with a shillto shallto slipny stripny, in he skittled.
Swikey!
Gallery[]
