We've updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

The Scale - 124CD (2021)

by Carla Diratz & the Archers of Sorrow

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Six panel card sleeve with artwork by Martin Archer

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Scale - 124CD (2021) via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 5 days

      £12.50 GBP or more 


  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £10 GBP  or more


The scale 09:03
The scale On a larger scale evidence has not yet been made we've endured all this for something to be learnt or, for the least, felt somehow concerned someone had to melt steel and another someone went on figuring chains to keep things our own all clean and safe someone had to tame horses at times locking them in at times furiously riding them on lands diverse battles had dried out or burnt someone had to declare gold was worth something and if you have it you are the king someone had to bury the shame in order to survive the pain, and that's how he became the master of the game no God no Adam no Eve no original sin the core of human kind is a disease that has got no cure until all disappears
Le sang et les larmes – etude 1 La mémoire au cœur mes veines des affluents des confluents d'oublis un doigt posé sur la jugulaire sur l'artère la mémoire au sang chaud sans-gêne renaît d'un cratère tout d'abord en dévalant à gros bouillons de flammes cruelles à glacer le sang puis lave et larmes, dans un sillon en pente douce descendent rejoindre la mer la douleur en cendres s'éloigne, s'aligne à cet horizon bien avant l'heure de la lumière
I am with you You pray for better times when all that's trash and grey turns into blue, into blue gold and blue, but not too blue O God please not too blue maybe it is today you turn thirteen while on a plastic cliff you sit still another orphan as big as a baby-doll is climbing on your leg, scratching your skin licking some ashes off your waxy hand you're silently imploring for better times any other life, any other land even a town covered up by cold skies spilling cold freezing rain spilling resentment and blame Sitting on the hill of poverty sediments you live on nothingness and God knows how but in your dark blue eyes some crumbs of dreams remain your skin is frying, your lips are glued but still I can hear a lullaby buzzing from your bones and my heart longs for you and my flesh longs for you all my organs and bones are there with you I am with you, I am with you, I am with you
Static cruise / (from Posilippo with love) my pen's cruising on a page as white as a sail no words will make a sign or a move until the winds approve and inflate my mind's eye inhaling a memorable aria heard through some shy wind in a place where, with no doubt, the soul of my shadow I found sitting on black sand by a black and yet blue sea facing a memorable volcano I was once dreaming to approach swimming words, thoughts, are ashes or stones until I stamp a technicoloured Ulysses on that white sail before I send this condensed missive to a you I wish existed
Mother 03:38
Mother she, who was born near the bridge that joins East to West she, who was raised in a time of sepia sunsets, in a mansion where on the walls you hang Persian carpets, a place made of rose gardens and of candid romance MOTHER MOTHER she, exiled, declassed, displaced, a soul meandering through a cosmopolitan life, a life she could recollect in seven different tongues beating up like drums inside her lungs MOTHER MOTHER she, who had preferred to lose most of her souvenirs, and bury them for good in a secret coffin under some orange tree MOTHER she, often in prayers, she, always anxious, so superstitious, she, elsewhere, never really here, never really there... MOTHER Ô MOTHER the taste of rose jelly or in the summer the colour of the sea in a bay she worshiped would recall her the Dardanelles she then would let a few tears run down her cheeks MOTHER
La digue – etude 2 les frémissements de tous les vents sur nos écailles de mer en vérité, un défi, en dépit, en rire, l'arme fatale de la vie qui nous tient debout, la digue, un phare sans far contre-avec vents et marées en notre âme de fond de coeur de souffle qui brasse qui se braque qui se brise qui embrasse un embrasement un brasier, un baiser fulgurant jeté sur la digue
The nature of a child Unknown fragile flowers thriving by a tiny river, a trickle of water. Pistils, petals, calyxes, arrow-like leaves, airstrips to butterflies some dressed in translucent purple, or in pale yellow or in some African totem disguises I am that young girl whose hands are floating in the stream of glass pearls I am that forever lonely child breathing into the microcosmos the endless, invisible time I am that young animal, not yet defined a fox, a wolf, a wild cat, fearless of seasons, of wars, of treasons. I am that ladybird, climbing the thick blade of green grass that same grass you cut with your teeth and it gives you a fluorescent white milk I am that offspring soul a hazardous incarnation, on an unframed miniature picture a red ant, a blue dragonfly, a green lizard, a brown snail... a lonely child, an unknown flower, shaded with some pigments engraved into Mother Nature
Dove mi hai lasciata sono dove mi hai lasciata dove il giorno è come la notte dove non c'è niente e nessuno sono dove mi hai lasciata solo pochi frammenti di parole scritti in un libro bruciato poche parole che non risuonano nel tempio all'aperto gli occhi vuoti di uno schiavo o di una dea, finestre aperte sul mare i miei occhi sono persi non riesco a trovarti penso di aver visto un po' della tua ombra intrufolarsi tra due colonne decapitate la tua ombra tra due colonne dacapitate
Merry –go – round the golden tooth appears through a short laughter like the quicksilver rolls on a white sheet of paper and as bullets whistle at night on a ghost river colored in a prematured amber at night on a ghost river no fate, no goal, no direction, no path, no soul, no heaven, no hell but the same old new life instead no fortune teller, no angel in sight but two arms and a heart instead the low, the sorrow, the lines he's crossed the sharp, the rotten, the raw, the medium rare, the strenght he's lost his life went by as fast as the quicksilver rolling at night on a ghost river at night on a ghost river the old and lonely man could not describe how he felt, so he sang instead "merry-go-round we go for the better and worse we go sings the bride on the chilling corpse, sings the child on the wooden horse"
Menhir et gémissements Mensonge d'une nuit couchés près d'un menhir c'est pourtant sans mentir qu'ils ont léché leurs plaies mots d'amour, mamifères, bouches entières et ronronnements Debouts sur le menhir en équilibre, sur un fil de roc, c'est pourtant sans sourire qu'ils ont parlé d'amour mots vautours bien plus grands bien plus forts et personne ne ment La voûte étoilée envoutante, envouteresse, envoutueuse aspire, angloutit les paroles, les soupirs Mots-miracle fabuleux, mystérieux à n'y voir que du feu Mensonge d'une nuit et fossiles sous roche c'est pourtant sans mentir qu'ils ont noyé le temps
Teen dance 06:47
Teen dance legs and feet bouncing your arms like bows hands high up above like they're fishing stars you do figures so fast no one can catch irresistible uncontrollable indomitable your body, mind and soul all they want to do is that dancing on rhythms beating so deep in you it is somewhat mystic your flesh, your blood are the move, the groove a kind of a contract you sealed that triples your life or even more You never get tired you can dance hours long and even in your sleep the beat goes on pacing your legs, your feet your immortality
Le chagrin – etude 3 le mot "chagrin" regorge d'eau douce, salée pourtant... On dirait bien ici que le mot "chagrin" perd les eaux, prend ses aises, s'étend sur les coeurs gros mais NON c'est une eau de barrage RETENUE profonde puissante alors OUI c'est bien dans "chagrin" qu'est la plus sûre et certaine noyade il faut donc bel et bien, le rayer de la carte ou et bien innocemment brouiller les cartes le noyer pour un temps.
Desert prayer I inhaled a desert of winds cruelly blowing dried memories and now, shall I hold my breath? or will the fragile flame resist If I am to whisper a wasted prayer by the candle I can't recall I lit the opaque, the salty drops, trapped in my weary eyes, are they molecules of an improbable oasis Am I the hostage of a mirage? as I stare at the candle I can't recall I lit. Nostalgia rang the bell I'm now walking in circles Is this really me crossing landscapes of regrets? holding a candle I can't recall I lit.


"While we pray for better times, we can soothe our souls with this glorious Discus release featuring an amazing vocal performance by Carla Diratz with music by Martin Archer and Nick Robinson plus a lineup of great musicians including Charlotte Keefe on trumpet. Carla's vocal melodies and wonderfully poetic lyrics merge with the highly original music in such a seamless way that it feels as though this band has been playing together for years." - feedback from a Discus Music customer.

The extraordinary, powerful and characterful French singer Carla Diratz (described by none other than Robert Wyatt as "the soulful Ms Diratz") collaborates here with composers Martin Archer and Nick Robinson to deliver an extremely diverse set which runs from out and out prog through avant-rock to improv, electronic collage and modernist chanson - "Improg" is the name we've given to this mixed up school of music. Lyrics sung in English, French and Italian ultimately present a very personal view of the world, with some nostalgia for the past but ultimately hope in the unconquerable spirit of the next generation. The band is completed by upcoming trumpet star Charlotte Keeffe and the crack rhythm section who first came together onstage as part of Archer's Anthropology Band.


released September 28, 2021

Carla Diratz - vocal
Martin Archer - saxophones, keyboards, electronics
Nick Robinson - guitars
Dave Sturt - bass guitar
Adam Fairclough - drums
Charlotte Keeffe - trumpet
Jan Todd - backing vocals
Julie Archer - backing vocals


all rights reserved



Discus Music Sheffield, UK

Discus Music was founded in 1994 by Martin Archer. The label releases leftfield rock music, free jazz, extended songform, electronics, improvised music, and other sounds which defy categorisation.

EU customers! Your purchase will be shipped to you from within the EU. No unexpected import charges!
... more

contact / help

Contact Discus Music

Streaming and
Download help

Shipping and returns

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like The Scale - 124CD (2021), you may also like: