Koch Records

Record Details

Elliott Murphy - Beauregard

Elliott’s first recording with Olivier Durand.


  1. Bells Of Beauregard -:-- / 0:19
  2. Somebodies Anniversary -:-- / 5:18
  3. Made In Freud -:-- / 3:42
  4. O Wyoming -:-- / 3:18
  5. Hard Core -:-- / 3:45
  6. Moving Sky -:-- / 3:24
  7. Well Intentioned Pedestrians -:-- / 4:29
  8. Small Room -:-- / 3:44
  9. Sonny -:-- / 4:34
  10. Last Train To Memphis -:-- / 2:57
  11. St Elmo’s Motel -:-- / 4:33
  12. You Can’t Go Home -:-- / 3:02
  13. All These Days -:-- / 3:41
  14. Glorious Feeling -:-- / 4:21
  15. As Bad As It Gets -:-- / 3:59


It would have been sixteen years today
You’re asking whose counting anyway
The world can be cruel for a while
And play you for a fool if you smile
That’s the way

See the little houses in a row
Which one was ours I don’t know
I keep waiting for a sign
From a guardian angel I left behind

And we will fly above this city into the night
Swooping down with the pigeons on the occasional light
Until we stop…

Hey baby is it raining outside
Should I grab an umbrella or can we just hide
Is there a reason that I feel this way
Everyday’s somebodies anniversary
You know why

She draw me a card from Community Chest
A long day of monopoly that would be best
While some build houses on Marvin Gardens
Boardwalk hotels you can pour your heart in


Well I can get down in the afternoon
I feel my blood sugar dropping like a needle in a spoon
But come the twilight I’ll be recharging
And I’ll be howling when the moon is rising


back to top


Down by the harbor – they don’t know your name
See the girl with the soda – sucking on a candy cane
She says what you looking at boy
You say I’m looking for someone to blame

Fashion rules Iceland – said the Irish monk
Preaching to a room full of dissidents – drowning in the grunge and the funk
And Kiki of Montparnasse
She’s buck naked in the captain’s bunk

Can’t control it now my feet are getting weak
From sleeping on my tiptoes every time I speak
From the bottomless ocean – to the endless space
Every mirror’s got a memory
Of a distinctly human face

Picasso’s boomerang – it came back today
The luggage tag said Atlantis – TWA
I was washing my face – with the holy grail
Every guitar player was changing his strings
Or doing time in jail
I was stuck inside a photo machine
Signs flashing all over the place
This machine does not give change
Except the color of your face
And when the train pulled out of the station
I picked up a Fender bass

back to top


She said I get outta work about quarter past five – You can pick me up you can gimme a ride – Meet me on the corner where nobody can see
I got a husband who loves me but he don’t like me – Take me for a drink at the Medicine Bow – I got a pair of new boots that I’m dying to show – Pop in a cassette – head out for Rock Springs
Somebody [Richard Ford] wrote a book – you believe that thing

O Wyoming O Wyoming

You can take me out for dinner if you got it in ya – There’s a truck stop I love Little America – When the traffic thins out we’ll hit the high desert air – Pull over to the side you won’t believe you’re anywhere
If you got the balls you can strip off your clothes – Roll in the bauxite like an Eskimo – Eskimo no that wasn’t right
I meant like some Indian whose not afraid to turn white

O Wyoming O Wyoming

Promise me by Salt Lake we can turn around – Too much religion for me in that town – Lotta people go south spend the weekend in Denver
Come back with a bumper sticker right on their fender – Born in Cheyenne under the Capitol dome – I got an air stream trailer that I call home – I wear a lot of makeup and I got two cats – That husband of mine never know where I’m at

O Wyoming O Wyoming

Now if you were the one I’d say screw em all – Can you spare me one of your ol’ Pall Malls? – The store opens at nine and I gotta be there
Can I borrow your rearview to comb my hair? – If you need a shirt you know where to come – Around Rodeo time it ain’t a lotta fun
The tourists ride around shooting fake six shooters
And the city cowgirls with their pushed up hooters

O Wyoming O Wyoming

What I’d really like to do is do nothing at all – Watch the Price is Right and old Lucille Ball – Six o’clock news I go and fix me a drink
Starving babies make my heart starts to sink – Bosnia and Somalia that’s a long way long way off – I know a girl in Jackson Hole who died of a cough – I knew you was wild when you walked in the door
And dancing the two step all over the floor

O Wyoming O Wyoming

Now I like a man who dances nothing wrong with that
And long as he’s not wearing no cowboy hat
My husband and I we got an agreement
If he don’t catch me he don’t throw me on the cement
Believe it or not I get so tired of talking
I better stop smoking or I won’t stop hawking
Come on save your money for when you in bad luck
Here’s my number – now keep it handy in your truck

O Wyoming O Wyoming

back to top


There was some kinda party going down in Paradise
When everybody got hungry – doesn’t that food look nice
So they ate the apple – right down to the core
Adam turned to Eve – and he called her a whore

Hard Core – we see everything and nothing
But its nothing – I didn’t see before
Hard Core – when I press your flesh beside me
Show me what love is for

I bought love for money – I traded love for hate
I traded trust for suspicion – big time mistake
Gimme your hand – let me take it in mine
We’ll take a chance on the real thing – one last time


And I like what you like and you’re right and just what I’m looking for
Is it alright to touch you and just you
Can stop what I’m looking for
Closing all my other doors

Let’s get out of the garden – Its getting late
Hurry up – they’re shutting the gate


back to top


The sky is moving – big changes coming
The father’s calm waiting out the troubles
I took my baby to the panhandle
We kept on moving when her language caused a scandal
The sky is bleeding – my mama’s empty
Afraid to open the care package that she sent me
I reach for heaven – I’m reaching up above
Somebody told me there’s a power in love

I took my baby up to the northwest
I wore no tie just a snap collar and a suede vest
Men started flying just like the pigeons
But the women grew heavy – and they just couldn’t catch ‘em
I took my baby to the quadrangle
Every time we made love I was looking for an angle
I took my lunch I took it with me
I ate my brains, my heart and then my kidney

I took my baby to New York City
Oh from a distance the city is so pretty
The streets were shiny – the police like phantoms
Playing three card monte and I couldn’t get my hand in
The sky is crying just like a baby
Screaming isn’t there anybody gonna save me
I took my guitar down from the shelf
Strummed one sad chord and I reinvent myself

The sky is moving – big changes coming
The son is calm while he causes all the trouble
I dress my baby in miniskirt and sandals
She’s burning incenses while I cover her with candles
The sky is crying the emperor so needy
The lips of his concubine they are bloody red and greedy
I’m just a man with nothing left to prove
Everything to live for and nothing to lose
Hey hey hey…

back to top


Little baby with a broken cup
Trying to fill it with a distant love
She was flipped out right down the line
He was breathing last time I looked
Dressed in white like a missionary cook
Or like a sorcerer making water from wine
Everybody gets lonely
When the crowd turns mean
Well intentioned pedestrians
Crossing at the green

I was there when the Internet broke
Believe mister it wasn’t no joke
Trooper Huck Finn putting up detour signs
There were maps floating everywhere
I was saved by a hair on a barber chair
It was mystic when I went on line
Everybody gets angry
At the last to arrive
Well intentioned pedestrians
Wait impatiently on the other side

To hell with the man with the message
Three cheers for the lovers who tried
Well intentioned pedestrians
Blindfolded and walking in the line of fire

I know I’m never gonna figure it out
Love ‘n hate life ‘n death faith ‘n doubt
But its the losing that’s got me down
Its just a question of serenity
But when they giving that out they forgot about me
I guess I was out of town
Everybody gets busted
And everybody tries hard
Everybody’s a hero
In their own back yard
Well intentioned pedestrians
Flying on a credit card

back to top


Well it was a small room
About ten by nine
Paintbrushes and canvas
A jar of turpentine
He’d be there in the morning
When the light was fresh
The only time he turned his back on her
Was when she would undress
Her name was Judy
Judy out to lunch
Her boyfriend was Frankie
She called him Punch
He said let’s take a break now
My old legs are stiff
He saw her bruises in the mirror
He said that bastard – will you look at this
She said Frankie’s a good guy
He just drinks too much wine
The old painter said you can tell me about it
Some other time
But I’d like to meet him
This boyfriend of yours
Why don’t you tell him to come by on Friday night
After he closes his store

Now Judy came back on Monday
And the door was locked
When the landlady opened it
Even the cops were shocked
Punch he lay in a pull of blood
Throat slit ear to ear
The old painter was dead as well
His painters knife was near
The cop said one man was murdered
The others heart gave out
But whoever painted this portrait of you Judy
Of his love there is no doubt
Well it was a small room
About ten by nine
Paintbrushes and canvas
A jar of turpentine

back to top


Sonny – its been a long time
But I just couldn’t pick up the phone
I’m still some miles away – from that kinda courage
And I guess finally I preferred to be alone
Well its true – I mighta made a few promises
And you can be sure – I meant to keep ‘em all along
But something happened – don’t know if I can explain it
Just call me the man whose heart turned to stone

A thousand people laughing
And I could not say a word
But in the heat of that last summer
I was flying like a bird

Sonny – you say you don’t recognize me
In fact when I knew you – well I was wearing a beard
But one day I shaved and looked in the mirror
Decided to come out – come right out of there
Well me and your mom – well that was a long night
Can’t say I’m proud – but I ain’t ashamed
Don’t you believe it – Well I ain’t no cave man
We were both willing – but she lived with the blame


So when she called – you coulda knocked me over
I thought it was a joke – than my laughter started to fade
So I drove down here – down to this damn prison
The last thing I expected – I see my boy sitting in a cage
So what can I say – give me a call when you want to
You can call me at work – and you can call my place home
I’ll find a way out of this – not sure how I’m gonna do it
But you got a father – you’re not completely alone


back to top


Nat king cole and louis armstrong
Sitting in the cold when the truck pulled along
Driven by the boy in the dyed black hair
Asked him where he’s going and he said everywhere

And oh its the last train to memphis
And oh don’t you wonder where its gonna take us
But i gotta get back, get the train on the track
nose to the grindstone pick up the slack

Governor wallace and robert e. Lee
Wonder what these rebels would think of me
Love me tender on a highway sixty one
In every other car someone’s carrying a gun


Its a land of dreams
Its not all it seems
Its a store of tupelo honey
Down the freedom trail – on a cotton bail
Its the overnight mail

Stonewall jackson and pickett’s charge
Mississippi river and life on a barge
Wal mart shopping on a sunday afternoon
Chicken fried steak couldn’t come too soon

And oh its the last train to memphis
And oh don’t you wonder where its gonna take us
But i gotta get back, put the train on the track
Upstairs graceland heart attack
Too many ribs right off the rack
Thought i knew the answer but i never look back

back to top


There were so many candles on your birthday cake
The smoke alarm went off
The sun was like hell fire
On the wall was Jesus on his cross
There was a moment that passed when a jet flew by
And the room lay still with violence
You called me a goddamned liar
We sat on that bed in silence

You can drive for fourteen hours
And you won’t be outta Texas
You can live to be a hundred
And I won’t be outta you

There was a song we sang on summer nights
There was splendor in the grass
Regrets and promises
Waiting ahead in the past


There were so many things that I wanted to say
So I said nothing at all
I tried to buy you flowers
But everything was closed at the mall
There was a motorcycle’s distant roar
When I turned the TV on
You said switch the channel
And when I turned around you were gone


back to top


You can’t go home
You don’t know where that is
You can’t go home
You’re looking for a different kiss
A kiss of life
A kiss of freedom
A taste of anything you can believe in

You can’t go home
You don’t know where to go
You can’t go home
You lost your way a long time ago
A way to live
A way to reason
A part from everything
A new season

Its a game of whose on top
And you’re playing both sides hard
But nothing matters to the blind at heart
You see an open door
You don’t know where to start

You can’t go home
You don’t know where that is
You can’t go home
You’re looking for a different kiss
A kiss of life
A kiss of freedom
A taste of anything you can believe in

back to top


Why can’t I get off
Why can’t I get over you
All I had is lost now
All seems false that once was true

Day turns into night
Night turns into something else
I don’t know whose right
I just can’t get out of myself

Well the cat’s in the corner he’s licking his paws
I’m sitting in the kitchen and I’m twirling my fork
And over and over and over again
I can’t break out and I can’t break in
For you

And days get longer now
And I know the sun will set
And yes I’m getting stronger now
I’m getting stronger now
With no regrets

Why can’t I let go
Why can’t I find someone else
Is it pain or love
That keeps my heart up on the shelf


back to top

All Songs by Elliott Murphy, Except “Hardcore” written by Elliott Murphy and Matt Noble – ©1998 Elliott Murphy Published by Warner Chappell Music – Lyrics Reprinted by Permission

Koch Records

Produced by Elliott Murphy
Engineered and Mixed by Roger Robindore
Recorded at Beauregard Studios, Paris, Except HARDCORE Recorded at Audiomaster, New York
“Hardcore” Engineered and Mixed by Matt Noble
Mastered by Raphael Jonin at Dyam
Artwork by Chloe at L’ere Graphique
Cover Photo by Vincent Lignier
Inside Photo by Françoise Murphy
Elliott Murphy plays Guild Guitars

Much gratitude to the amazing Roger Robindore who has the incredible ability to make the seemingly impossible wonderfully audible.
“You Can’t Go Home” from the short film Last Stop directed by Laurent Bachet.
Thanks to Jean Davoust and Patrick Conseil.
Good to have Ernie back.

EM: Guitar, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass
Olivier Durand: Guitar, Mandolin
Mark Kerr: Drums

EM: Guitar, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass
Olivier Durand: Guitar
Mark Kerr: Bongos
Nils De Caster: Violin

EM: Guitar, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass, Chorus
Olivier Durand: Guitar
Mark Kerr: Drums, Percussion, Chorus
Nils De Caster: Violin

EM: Guitar, Harp, Vocal
Matt Noble: Guitar, Keyboards, Drum Program
Ernie Brooks: Bass

EM: Guitar, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass
Mark Kerr: Bongos, Percussion
Olivier Durand: Guitar
Nils De Caster: Violin

EM: Guitar, Harp, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass, Chorus
Mark Kerr: Drums, Percussion, Chorus
Olivier Durand: Guitar
EM: Guitar, Harp, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass
Mark Kerr: Percussion
Olivier Durand: Guitar, Mandolin
Nils De Caster: Violin

EM: Guitar, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass, Chorus
Mark Kerr: Bongos, Percussion, Chorus
Olivier Durand: Guitar

EM: Guitar, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass, Chorus
Olivier Durand: Slide Guitar
Mark Kerr: Drums, Chorus

EM: Guitars, Vocal, Harp

EM: Guitars, Bass, Vocal, Drums Program

EM: Guitar, Vocal
Ernie Brooks: Bass
Mark Kerr: Percussion, Chorus
Olivier Durand: Mandolin
Françoise Murphy: Chorus

Record By Record, Murphy By Murphy: Beauregard

I think I regained control of my music and career with this one. We recorded it at my home on rue Beauregard in two little rooms. Great fiddle playing by Nils de Caster from Belgium and some very surreal lyrics in songs such as “Made in Freud” and “O Wyoming.” Beauregard was my first recording with guitarist Olivier Durand who has proved to be an incredible musician and friend. I wrote many of these songs on a cross-country tour of the U.S. the year before with my wife and son. Mark Kerr (whose brother Jim is in Simple Minds) did some beautiful background vocals. The bells were recorded one evening when I put a microphone outside my window.

Taken from Crossroads magazine.

Murphy’s first album for his new French label opens with the sound of church bells in Paris, where he has lived for years. After that opening, though, come lyrics that are heavily sprinkled with references to Texas, Memphis, New York City, Denver, and other stateside locales. Like most of Murphy’s earlier albums, in other words, this one finds him preoccupied with his native America. That’s not to say that the disc isn’t full of surprises; in fact, it ranks among his most adventurous collections in quite some time. Among the boldest experiments: the hypnotic “O Wyoming,” a sort of country rap number that’s not at all what you’d expect from either Murphy or rap; the hook-laden “Hard Core,” which may be Murphy’s strongest bid yet for commercial success; and “Made in Freud,” one of several tracks to feature the elegant violin work of Nils De Caster. Other highlights include the affecting “Somebodies Anniversary” (spelling may not be this artist’s strong point); the lilting “Small Room,” a rather improbable but nevertheless hard-to-resist tale of love and murder; and “Saint Elmo’s Hotel,” which features one of Elliott’s finest lyrics about lost love. Throughout, Murphy sounds confident, energized, and eager to take chances. And the bulk of those chances pay off.

Jeff Burger – AllMusic

Vinyl LPs

Blue Rose Records BLU LP0063


Koch Records KOC-CD-8043

Music Scene MSI 90127

France: Last Call Records 2040912

Blue Rose Records BLU CD 0063

Blue Room BMPE 030
Dusty Roses DRO 19

Many Records MN 30715

Please note: If you have additions or corrections to this discography, please send them to the webmaster.