Créditos del album
Lanzamiento: 16 de noviembre de 2018
Down The Road Wherever es el noveno álbum de estudio en solitario de Mark Knopfler.
Lanzado el 16 de noviembre de 2018, el álbum fue creado en el propio estudio de grabación de Knopfler en el oeste de Londres, British Grove Studios.
El legendario artista ha trabajado con el productor colaborador Guy Fletcher desde hace mucho tiempo en el seguimiento de su álbum de 2015 Tracker.
Filth and grease on his clothes and hands
From the outermost, the farthermost
Comes riding in to the trading post
Got a pack horse loaded up with hides
Steps in to see the man inside
‘I got furs, skins, a little meat too
Here, I got a good piece just for you’
‘You take this home to give the wife’
The trapper draws his skinning knife
Now the fat man’s desk is a butcher’s block
The trapper cuts the meat and talks
‘You’re gonna lose your shirt on a nowhere man
Lose your shirt in nowhere land
Back out there is my country
And you best let this trapper be the trapper
You need the trapper man
The trapper man
If you don’t want to be where lightning strikes
Better let me work the way I like
You don’t want to know how I fill my sacks
You go out there you don’t come back
You got nature red in tooth and claw
And you ain’t got no rule of law
And if you don’t know nature’s way
All that’s gonna stop you being the prey is the trapper
You need the trapper man
The trapper man
You wanna wear them gems and rings
You wanna show off them shiny things
Shake your money maker, bro
Where the movers and the shakers go
You wanna go do what you do
Let the gold and silver come to you
So leave the dirty work to me
Yeah, you best let this trapper be the trapper
You need the trapper man
The trapper man
When he’s done his thing and gone his way
The fat men light cigars and say
“Holy smokes did you see that?
We all made money on the trapper cat”
Sit back in their big ass chairs
Say, “Boys, that is the man right there”
I’m the lifeline for your big soft ass
It’s the trapper puts it in first class, the trapper
You need the trapper man
The trapper man
Hand me down my smokeless .41
We’re gonna look so sharp when we walk in
They’re gonna be jazzed we come
We’re going for the major comeback
For the motherlode, the mighty score
We’ll be the toast of every knocked out boogie shack
Now we’re back on the dancefloor
Going all the way is the only way to go
The only game in town
Shake your moneymaker closer to the floor
Shake ‘em on down, shake ‘em on down
Hand me down my two-tone wingtips
Hand me down my skull head walking cane
You all gotta wear them shantung gambler suits
They’re gonna be jazzed we came
We’re going for the major comeback
For the motherlode, the mighty score
We’ll be the toast of every knocked out boogie shack
Now we’re back on the dancefloor
Going all the way is the only way to go
The only game in town
Shake your moneymaker closer to the floor
Shake ‘em on down, shake ‘em on down
We’re going for the major comeback
For the motherlode, the mighty score
We’ll be the toast of every knocked out boogie shack
Now we’re back on the dancefloor
Left alone to ramble wild
Long ago he was abandoned
Nobody’s child
Never smiles and never chatters
Never quarrels or complains
Grown as hard as the Sierras
And the Western Plains
Come a’cow cow yicky yicky yea
A’come a’cow cow yicky yicky yea
Learned to swing a broken bottle
Learned to use his fists and knife
In the bar rooms and bordellos
Of his life
He drifted down towards the borders
The sky was dark but it did not rain
Came the meanest pistoleros
In the Western Plains
He fell in with these desperadoes
Thieves and killers every one
Prizes hanging from their saddles
With their guns
Come a’cow cow yicky yicky yea
A’come a’cow cow yicky yicky yea
The ragged kid nobody wanted
Left alone to ramble wild
Now he rides beside the Devil
Nobody’s child
Come a’cow cow yicky yicky yea
A’come a’cow cow yicky yicky yea
Take the short cut home through the loony bin
I never gave much thought to the souls in there
I was just a boy, too young to care
Well the years go by and you get to see
A dream’s not the same as reality
Well a dream or two is going to crash and burn
And that’s the way that you live and learn
Well it was late one night and I woke at two
And I lay there thinking the way you do
But it’s a long dark night of the soul
When those thoughts are turning sad and old
And then outside on the empty street
I heard the sound of walking feet
Well it was just a boy away from home
And he was singing the song ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’
There’s cordite in the air
A ringing in the stillness
Smoke drifting up the stair
When you leave
When you leave
My heart sounds in my ears
A beating in the darkness
A trace of you still here
When you leave
When you leave
Like it or not
How could I not have fallen for you?
And now that I’m caught
How could I not be blue?
When you leave
I’ll hear the smallest sound
And turn to look behind me
As though you’re still around
When you leave
When you leave
A darting, whirring thread
At the screen door by his lemon tree
Out here with the quick and the dead
Designer blinds above L.A.
Frame the perfect view
It’s going to be another day
Of sun and shameless blue
By his cutting block the time has come
For the fruit there by the juicer
He grinds fresh coffee for himself
He’s meeting a producer
The L.A.Times lies on the stone
Warming there like bread
Hey, what’s not to like out here
With the quick and the dead?
Good on you, son, good on you
The Camden Shuffle and the old one-two
Good on you, son, good on you
Uh-huh, oh yeah
Good on you, son, good on you
The Camden Shuffle and the old one-two, yeah
Well, you want to know what happiness is?
In his eye there’s a hunter’s gleam
Something to look forward to
This cat’s gonna get the cream
The skin of a mango is so smooth
Smoother than the devil
Cut it, slice it, chop it up
To the rhythm of a Cockney rebel
Back in Blighty there’s a flat
On a grimy sink estate
That’s why he walked out of that
And went to the Golden State
Left the baccy and the beer
Where he was born and bred
Now he’s cutting it out here
With the quick and the dead
Good on you, son, good on you
The Camden Shuffle and the old one-two
Good on you, son, good on you
Uh-huh, oh yeah
What would you’d have had him do?
The Camden Shuffle and the old one-two
Yeah good on you son, good on you
The Camden Shuffle and the old one-two
Good on you, son, good on you
Uh-huh, oh yeah
Good on you, son, good on you
The Camden Shuffle and the old one-two, yeah
Just telling you
Before you go
Only telling you
Just so you know
I never got the elbow
I slung it in
Had it up to here
I just pulled the pin
Went and had a beer
I used to love a bit of folding
Just for getting by
A wad of cash
Now that’s out of date
And so am I
As pie and mash
S’cuse me, s’cuse me
Have you got my roll?
My roll? My bacon roll?
The time they took us bowling
What was that about?
I thought what a joke
I just went out
And had a smoke
Then the white water rafting
Just some know-it-all
With the new regime
There to show us all
How to build a team
He says what do you think we’re doing?
I said don’t ask me
I’ve no idea
They all laughed at that
That was pretty funny actually
S’cuse me, s’cuse me
Have you got my roll?
My roll? My bacon roll?
Have you got my roll?
My roll? My bacon roll?
I could order you a toastie
Just like that one there
Or the same in plain white bread
When you’re dealing with a toastie
What do you prefer
Brown or red?
I never got the elbow
Just telling you
Before you go
Only telling you
Just so you know
Nobody does that quite the way you do
I like the way you put yourself together
Nobody does that quite like you
Nobody does that
Nobody does that
Nobody does that
I like the way you’re holding my attention
Nobody does that quite the way you do
That stuff too hot for me to mention
Nobody does that quite like you
Nobody does that
Nobody does that
I like the way you work the opposition
Nobody does that quite the way you do
When you want to smoke the competition
Nobody does that quite like you
Nobody does that
Nobody does that
Nobody does that
I like the way you put yourself together
Nobody does that quite the way you do
I like the way you put yourself together
Nobody does that quite like you
Nobody does that
Nobody does that
Nobody does that
Still echoes down the street
All the way back to Deptford days
Nights down by The Creek
Notes as big as river boats
Still echoing through the clubs
With the horns of the trains
Down the old back lanes
And the lights of the corner pubs
In a taproom lined with mirrors
There’s a man there at the bar
Reminds you of somebody
He says I know who you are
He’s right, I know I could be him
But anyway who is who?
You could be looking at
What he’s looking at
And he’s looking at you
And I’ll be out of this place
And down the road wherever
There but for the grace, etcetera
I’ll see you later but it’s 1979
And I’m picking my way out of here
One song at a time
The slaving ports of plunder
Used to stink to heaven on high
Companions of honour
Always were in short supply
The Bristol ships and Liverpool’s
On every tide they came
The times they may have changed, my friend
Some people stay the same
And I’ll be out of this place
And down the road wherever
There but for the grace, etcetera
I’ll see you later but it’s 1879
And I’m picking my way out of here
One song at a time
A grinning mogul greets the crowd
At Execution Dock
All come to see three mutineers
Turned off at twelve o’clock
The shyster takes a ringside seat
As they’re bringing them from the jail
And twenty thousand tickets
Sold online on premium sale
So if you need to reach me
You can leave word at The Pig
I have no wish to stay around
To watch that Newgate jig
Or any more poor old fakers
Trying to dance in my old shoes
I’ll be gone over the ocean
With the transatlantic blues
And I’ll be out of this place
And down the road wherever
There but for the grace, etcetera
I’ll see you later somewhere down the line
I’ll be picking my way out of here
One song at a timea
To get inside the frame
I’ve been painting a fat man
He’s big and fat and heavy
As a man can be
But he’s been floating away, floating away
He’s been floating away from me
In the mirror my withering skin
Is a thorny pleasure
I stand unflinching
And I mark each crease and sting
My brush my wooden flail
My ancient thresher
As unforgiving time flays everything
It’s the truth I’m trying
To get inside the frame
Now I’m painting myself naked
But I need a pair of boots
About as heavy as boots can be
Or I’d be floating away, floating away
I’d be floating away from me
And every thorn sends thistledown
Drifting all around
And floating away, floating away
Floating away from me
Or ‘Where did you go?’
I’m a slow learner
I do everything slow
It’s my way, has to be true
The world goes by me fast
But where you’re concerned
I like good things to last
Where’s the point in worrying
If we should start a little late
Where’s the point in hurrying
When waiting feels so great?
I’m a slow burner
My last train left a while ago
I’m a slow learner
I do everything slow
So where’s the point in worrying
If we should start a little late
And where’s the point in hurrying
When waiting feels so great?
I’m a slow burner
My last train left a while ago
I’m a slow learner
I do everything slow
Yeah, I’m a slow burner
My last train left a while ago
I’m a slow learner
I do everything slow
Condemns us to your point of view
Who could give a flying toss
What you like to chill out to?
And why should I lighten up for you
If you can’t heavy up for me?
Why should I? Why should I?
You grunt and root your patch of earth
Adrift from shame and deaf to sound
How much is your praise really worth?
About the same as your thumbs down
And why should I lighten up for you
If you can’t heavy up for me?
Why should I? Why should I?
So heavy up, heavy up for me
Heavy up, heavy up for me
You can give it up
Give it up with me
Or heavy up, heavy up for me
What would it take
To get you to shut it?
I’d so love it
And why should I lighten up for you
If you can’t heavy up for me?
Why should I? Why should I?
So heavy up, heavy up for me
Heavy up, heavy up for me
You can give it up
Give it up with me
Or heavy up, heavy up for me
You won’t of course, you will be heard
Ah, but at least a man can dream
I’m afraid, alas, the turd
Who thinks he’s an ice cream
And why should I lighten up for you
If you can’t heavy up for me?
Why should I? Why should I?
So heavy up, heavy up for me
Heavy up, heavy up for me
You can give it up
Give it up with me
Or heavy up, heavy up for me
Yeah, heavy up, heavy up for me
Heavy up, heavy up for me
You can give it up
Give it up with me
Or heavy up, heavy up for me
Christmas Eve in a nowhere band
Now early morning Christmas Day
He’s hitching home to Geordieland
Last night the snow came, just my luck
And who the hell do you think you are
Climbing up into that truck
With your old bag and your guitar
And you, you would-be vagabond
No-one invited you, you know
Matchstick man, up in the dawn
You’ve got five hundred miles to go
The driver now must drop off his load
The snow still laying thick on the ground
Leaves him on a high crossroads
Where he can see for miles around
The sun is shining, sky is blue
And everything is white and bare
Not a car comes into view
There’s nothing moving anywhere
And you, you would-be vagabond
No-one invited you, you know
Matchstick man, you speck upon
These vast and silent plains of snow
That rear view mirror of mine
Last I saw of you was in the rear view mirror
Getting so much smaller all the time
And when I think of you you’re in the rear view
That rear view mirror of mine
When I think of you you’re in the rear view mirror
Getting so much smaller all the time
Do I owe you for letting me know
Do I? I guess so
Do I owe you for letting me know
So I’m thanking you for letting me go
Do I owe you for letting me know
Do I? I guess so
Do I owe you for letting me know
So I’m thanking you for letting me go
Do I owe you for letting me know
Do I? I guess so
Do I owe you for letting me know
So I’m thanking you for letting me go
So when I think of you you’re in the rear view
That rear view mirror of mine
Oh, when I think of you you’re in the rear view mirror
Getting so much smaller all the time
Getting so much smaller all the time
Getting so much smaller all the time
Getting so much smaller, baby
So long, baby
Where I used to live
Got up in the morning
Put on my boots and I crossed the road
Stood in front of our house
And went back to my tricycle times
At the end of the terrace I looked up the alley
And there he was
A little blonde boy
With a stick in his hands looking straight at me
And if he wasn’t me
Then my god, he was just like I used to be
We stared at each other
But he stared me down and I looked away
After a moment
When I turned again he was gone
I don’t think I ever became half the man
That I used to be
The warrior captain
The bold pirate king of the sea
Nobody does me like I do
Or that’s what they say to me
But I’m a pale imitation
I’ve been keeping my secret safe with me
They don’t know any better
It doesn’t matter
You’re hanging on to a dream
To your own dream
They’re laughing and talking
One or two are clapping
But nobody’s walking
And you’re hanging on to a dream
To your own dream
Let them do what they do
Say what they say
It doesn’t matter anyway
Every heart in the room
Will belong to you one day
Let them do what they do
Say what they say
It doesn’t matter anyway
Every heart in the room
Will belong to you one day
A beer glass shatters
The bar staff clatters
It doesn’t matter
You’re hanging on to a dream
To your sweet dream
You don’t hurry, don’t worry
They’re going to know your story
It doesn’t matter
You’re hanging on to a dream
To your sweet dream
Let them do what they do
Say what they say
It doesn’t matter anyway
Every heart in the room
Will belong to you one day
Then she was at The Flame
Then she went to the Red Rooster
But the story was the same
Had a boyfriend name of Buddy
Then she had a guy called Slim
Married a cat played bebop drums
Whatever happened to him?
Who knows what kind of a dive
She’s currently working in
Don’t know, don’t care
Don’t suck me in
Remember that jack of all trades
And a master of none
Played rock or pop, they’d tell him what
He was just another gun
Teenybop in Tokyo
Bubblegum in France
A mister glass half-empty
A pessimist in advance
Now it’s looking like free fall
The work’s not coming in
Don’t even ask, my friend
Don’t suck me in
Don’t suck me in
And your so-called business partner
Was another fair weather friend
All he really cared about
Was what was due his end
He liked to check his bank account
Hang with the pimps and liars
Come creeping by to sniff the wind
Show up to kick the tyres
Now he’s in some kind of a dive
Maybe it’s a tailspin
I don’t want to know, my friend
Don’t suck me in
Your second cousin’s Uncle Frank
Is coming into town
With crap for all the family
And to see what’s going down
He’ll eat you out of house and home
Disappear your wine
Says he could have been a concert pianist
If he’d only had the time
You pulled the pin on that grenade
Now you’re stuck with him
Don’t even ask, my friend
Don’t suck me in
Don’t suck me in
As far as we can see
You came in a dream last night
Dear heart, you spoke to me
There’s only sky and water
And never so alone
When we cut the captain loose
We cut all ties with home
Lord, we cut all ties with home
We let the tyrant drift away
In one of his own boats
I don’t know why I stopped the hands
From going for his throat
Every man did curse the day
He signed up for the trip
And every man did know
This was no way to run a ship
Lord, no way to run a ship
Good riddance to his bitter soul
And now we have the brig
It’s sure we’ll not be sailing home
To dance the hempen jig
There’s only sky and water
We sleep and dream of land
But free of chains of iron
And the captain’s iron hand
Lord, the captain’s iron hand
He lashed me to a grating
For the nine claws of the cat
And now I have a fever
But I give no thought to that
I am high over the water
I sleep and dream of land
Free of chains of iron
And the captain’s iron hand
Lord, the captain’s iron hand
Up on the band
Nobody lining up
To come give you a hand
No way could you fake it
At 18th and Vine
And we could really put the sauce on it
We’d do it all the time
We was hot as smokin’ pistols
Chopping everybody down
Swinging like dogs, man
Kings of the town
There’d be a cutting contest
You had to do your research
I’d pull out a lick or two
From Saturday night church
Yeah, you’d maybe get to try
A couple things you learned
But you had to do your homework
‘Cause a gig was earned
When swing turned into bebop
It was all going on
Blowing all night
On past the dawn
I might play all day
I might play all night
Whatever made you stronger, baby
That was alright
Yeah, you’d maybe get to try
A couple things you’d learned
But you had to know your business
‘Cause everybody burned
Well a beer was a nickel
A whiskey was a dime
They’d come to Kansas City
See the girls on Vine
Might get a hot shot
Wanna bring along his horn
We liked to clean ‘em up
And head ‘em back where they belong
So long
But it’s just the old malarkey
That’ll wear you down
Some people are the pits, man
There’s always some around
Some will take advantage
If they can
It’s the old baloney sandwich
You dig me, man?
I’m talking about a time
When every man could play
But that’s the way it was
Back in the day
High up where ravens fly
And soon I’ll lose my way
And I won’t know
It’s a drover’s road
From days so long gone by
When we knew who we were
And where to go
It’s a drover’s road
It winds a hundred miles
You’d sleep out in the open
Calm and still
You could trust a friend
To keep a watch awhile
Your cattle grazing
Quiet on the hill
Walk with me
And you can leave that old dog be
He does much better on his own
Leave him be
He’s a better man than me
He likes to find his own way home
On a drover’s road
With the moon and misty stars
We walked these hills
Before this all began
Before we gazed at screens
Went shopping in our cars
And a million houses
Sprawled across the land
Walk with me
And you can leave that old dog be
He does much better on his own
Leave him be
He’s a better man than me
He likes to find his own way home