This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
Raise your can of beer on high
And seal your fate forever
Our best years have past us by
The golden age of leather
This was the night not long to come in the year of our Lord A.D.
Where in a desert way-house, poised on the brink of eternity
Four and ninety studded horsemen closed the knot of honor
As only drunken soldiers can
And passed from man to man, a wanton child to dead to care
That each would find his pleasure as he might
For this fantastic night was billed as nothing less than the end of
An age
A last crusade, a final outrage, in this day of flaccid plumage
And there was worn no cloth but leather
Made supple by years of stinging cinders
And here were seen the scars of age
For age had been the common call for one last night together
Down colored the sky (the ritual feast)
Some had died (they were buried with their bikes)
Each grabbed a rag (from a man with a sack)
Torn strips of color (the red and the black)
We made a vow to give it all we had to give
We made a vow to die as we had lived
They flew the colors, they began to fight
They flailed at each other like bugs at a light
Bodies and bikes beyond repair
Smell of oil and gas in the air
Then the wind whipped the desert with a giant hand
And the humans and the Harleys caught the shifting sand
And the old ranger weathered the storm
And he topped the rise by the middle of morn
He saw rippled dunes, calm and surreal
And a glint of a shaft of chromium steel
Golden age
And seal your fate forever
Our best years have past us by
The golden age of leather
This was the night not long to come in the year of our Lord A.D.
Where in a desert way-house, poised on the brink of eternity
Four and ninety studded horsemen closed the knot of honor
As only drunken soldiers can
And passed from man to man, a wanton child to dead to care
That each would find his pleasure as he might
For this fantastic night was billed as nothing less than the end of
An age
A last crusade, a final outrage, in this day of flaccid plumage
And there was worn no cloth but leather
Made supple by years of stinging cinders
And here were seen the scars of age
For age had been the common call for one last night together
Down colored the sky (the ritual feast)
Some had died (they were buried with their bikes)
Each grabbed a rag (from a man with a sack)
Torn strips of color (the red and the black)
We made a vow to give it all we had to give
We made a vow to die as we had lived
They flew the colors, they began to fight
They flailed at each other like bugs at a light
Bodies and bikes beyond repair
Smell of oil and gas in the air
Then the wind whipped the desert with a giant hand
And the humans and the Harleys caught the shifting sand
And the old ranger weathered the storm
And he topped the rise by the middle of morn
He saw rippled dunes, calm and surreal
And a glint of a shaft of chromium steel
Golden age
Lyrics submitted by shut, edited by romefalls, kreniigh, GotReality
Golden Age of Leather Lyrics as written by Donald Roeser B Abbott
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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