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Take one of the best-known and compelling story-lines in any language—that of

Joseph and his brothers as told in the book of Genesis. Retell it wittily and skilfully in the language of today. Set it with inspiration in the musical idiom of today—pop. Perform it with guitars, drums, orchestra and young voices, who know what it’s all about, since this is the musical climate they have grown up in. And the result is this record, “Joseph and the VaWsateVAbevca Kc\el ob ebKexe) Coy us Dy ucy-beaterer: Taam

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Since that May. performance, ““Joseph’’ has also been heard in St. Paul’s Cathedral. And that’s very appropriate, since its conception was very much entwined with the liberal

Foon tcpKer=¥ mausKe Daa Koy elcMeymoyaXew BroyateKoselt-(ol avole) & Colet Court—the junior end of St. Paul’s School, whose better-known pupils in the last 100 years range from Field Marshal Viscount Montgomery of Alamein to LOoyaeyolnoyaW\y Faved ecyeVAlcn

It was especially composed for Colet Court by Andrew Lloyd Webber (the music) and

Tim Rice (the words) at the request of Alan Doggett, conductor on this record and at the time music master at the school. You'll hear the school choir he helped to create on the recording too—as well as a pop group and orchestra who, to confuse the issue, have nothing to do with the school.

Since then Webber and Rice have become ALUIIA Wane) (cloyer-Lnclo Us Coymme oX-yvumcyeCoy@veLoletw ein)

(TEXT INCLUDED)

‘Jesus Christ Superstar” and ‘‘Evita’’. “Joseph” itself is currently enjoying an extremely successful stage production in New York City.

Derek Jewell SEV Ae betel eyon Osahake Sunday Times

Tim Rice

Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber Lyrics by Tim Rice i stem Koyaeele¥e im oyvannolemrs Loy-ic) 0) ol Oroyelcferanhepenl

Conductor Alan Doggett

Orchestrations by Andrew Lloyd Webber

Produced by Norrie Paramor and Tim Rice Recording Engineer: Bill Price , Assistant Engineer : Peter Rynston i Performers :

David Daltrey— vocals, lead guitar

The Mixed Bag Terry Saunders— vocals,

rhythm guitar ;

Malcolm Parry vocals, bass guitar ;

John Cook vocals, organ;

Bryan Watson vocals, drums

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Dr. W. S. Lloyd Webber Hammond Organ

Martin Wilcox harpsichord, maraccas,

acoustic guitar

Tim Rice as Pharaoh

The Mixed Bag

It is, in effect, a pop oratorio, probably the first of its kind. And if “oratorio” sounds a daunting, serious kind of word, then get the message right. This is a joyous, bouncing and entirely successful piece of pop music, bursting with good tunes and clever words, yet having a musical continuity and wholeness which is quite new in the world where the (cbbuccyabetcaccolepetol-Mo) i pict-hd Ket bm Os u-t-beoW-belels Blofoy a explode and dominate. ‘““Joseph”’ is, if you like, pop music moving towards its coming of age. : Published by Norrie Paramor Music/Novello and Co. Clothes by Take Six _ r I fell for it at first hearing, the public premiere sbdgeeie icciathes sc siieaniga caesar t given in London by most of the artists on this record before 2,000 people in May, 1968. There was so much to admire—the infectious enthusiasm of several hundred boys’ voices; the crisp, undraggy performance produced by CeXoy oe ROLGIO) wv AWE-Hall DloleaexeinmmmneXeucsakenon-nerel crackle of much of it contrasted with elegant writing in the pop-ballad style, like “Close Every Door To Me’. The work has now been extended and worked on. Passages like the Potiphar episode on the first side and the ® delicious Elvis Presley pastiche (an all- / LO. WOU IN P Egyptian male rather than a U.S. male) on the re Pe

second side are new. ‘‘Joseph” entertains ' ; Gigs Chats rc ier Wes a6 Bi, New VIG: N.Y. 10016. Dibinbuted:by bor Distribution, Inc & ] 1 IVE-ValOhe-Yot Ui cco Mr- Vato Mnat-Va.¢-1¢-Ye Ml oh Va Molato(olaMm s{-Yore]co(<mr- Wel ZIT (ola mol am oxo) Ze] ¢- Vaile @1(- \cy- (ek La ORM CTA AVLc1=\ drole) ¢ ., New York, N.Y. :. Distributed by Polygram Dis F c

supremely. It also communicates instantly, as VPN SINIINCC HN Metfe) atesmet-tst-1a'/-(e hu Olar-W0] (ato) ap4=ToMc-)e) corel 0(el dfolam imo) celallol (remo aa ale|

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PRODUCTION

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Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber 27

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Lyrics by Tim Rice

SIDE ONE ;

Way way back many centuries ago, not long after the Bible began, Jacob lived in the land of Canaan, a fine example of a family man. Jacob, Jacob and sons, depended on farming to earn their keep.

Jacob, Jacob and sons, spent all of the days in the fields with sheep.

Reuben was the eldest of the children of Israel with Simeon and Levi the next in line.

Napthali and Isaachar with Asher and Dan, Zebulun and Gad took the total to nine.

Jacob, Jacob and sons, Benjamin and Judah which leaves only one.

Jacob, Jacob and sons, Joseph, Jacob’s favourite son.

Jacob, Jacob and sons,

Jacob, Jacob and sons,

Jacob, Jacob and sons,

Jacob, Jacob, Jacob, Jacob and sons.

Joseph—he was Jacob’s favourite son—

Of all the family, Joseph was the special one.

So Jacob bought his son a coat,

A multi-coloured coat to wear.

Joseph’s coat was elegant, the cut was fine,

The tasteful style was the ultimate in good design. And this is why it caught the eye,

A king would stop and stare,

And when Joseph tried it on

He knew his sheepskin days were gone.

Such a dazzling coat of many colours,

How he loved his coat of many colours.

It was red and yellow and green and brown and blue. Joseph’s brothers weren’t too pleased with what they saw, They had never liked him all that much before, And now this coat had got their goat,

They felt life was unfair

And when Joseph graced the scene

His brothers turned a shade of green.

His astounding clothing took the biscuit,

Quite the smoothest person in the district.

He looked handsome, he looked smart,

He was a walking work of art.

Such a dazzling coat of many colours,

How he loved his coat of many colours.

It was red and yellow and green and brown

And scarlet and black and ochre and peach

And ruby and olive and violet and fawn

And lilac and gold and chocolate and mauve

And cream and crimson and silver and rose

And azure and lemon and russet and grey

And purple and white and pink and orange and blue.

Joseph’s coat annoyed his brothers but what made them mad Were the things that Joseph told them of the dreams he’d often had. “T dreamed that in the fields one day at corn collecting time Your eleven sheaves of corn all turned and bowed to mine.

My sheaf was quite a sight to see, a golden sheaf and tall.

Yours were green and second rate and really rather small.”

This was not the kind of thing the brothers liked to hear,

It seemed to them that Joseph and his dreams should disappear. “I dreamed I saw eleven stars, the sun and moon and sky, Bowing down before my star, it made me wonder why.

Could it be that I was born for higher things than you?

A post in someone’s government, a ministry or two?”

The dreams were more than crystal clear, the writing on the wall Meant that Joseph, some day soon, would rise above them all. The accuracy of the dreams the brothers did not know,

But one thing they were sure about, the dreamer had to go.

Next day, far from home, the brothers planned the repulsive crime. “Let us grab him now, do him in, while we’ve got the time’.

This they did and made the most of it, Tore his coat and flung him in a pit.

“Let us leave him here,”’ the brothers said, ‘“‘and he’s bound to die,”

When some Ishmaelites, a hairy crew, came riding by,

In a flash the brothers changed their plan.

“We need cash, let’s sell him if we can.”’

Poor poor Joseph, what’cha gonna do?

Things look bad for you, hey what’cha gonna do?

Poor poor Joseph, what’cha gonna do?

Things look bad for you, hey what’cha gonna do?

“Could you use a slave?” the brothers said to the Ishmaelites,

“Young, strong, well-behaved, going cheap and he reads and writes.”

In a trice the dirty deal was done,

Silver coins for Jacob’s favourite son.

So the Ishmaelites galloped off with a slave in tow.

Home went the evil sons to break the news, let father know.

“Joseph’s dead,” they told their ageing dad.

Jacob wept, he really loved the lad.

Poor poor Jacob, you think your son is dead,

Hang your weary head, hey, you think your son is dead.

Poor poor Joseph sold to be a slave,

Situations grave, hey sold to be a slave

Sold to be a slave. Sold to be a slave.

Joseph was taken to Egypt in chains and sold. Joseph was taken to Egypt in chains and sold. Where he was bought by a captain named Potiphar Where he was bought by a captain named Potiphar

Potiphar had very few cares,

He was one of Egypt’s millionaires.

Having made a fortune buying shares in pyramids,

Potiphar had made a huge pile,

Owned a large percentage of the Nile,

Meant that he could really live in style and he did.

Joseph was an unimportant slave who found he liked his master Consequently worked much harder, even with devotion. Potiphar could see that Joseph was a cut above the average, Made him leader of the household, maximum promotion. Potiphar was cool and so fine,

But his wife would never toe the line,

It’s all there in chapter thirty nine of Genesis.

She was beautiful but evil,

Saw a lot of men against his will,

He would have to tell her that she still was his.

Joseph’s looks and handsome figure had attracted her attention, Every morning she would beckon, “Come and lie with me, love.” Joseph wanted to resist her, till one day she proved too eager. Joseph cried in vain, “Please stop, I don’t believe in free love.”

Suddenly they heard a roar,

Potiphar burst through the door,

“Joseph, I’ll see you rot in jail,

The things you have done are beyond the pale.” Poor poor Joseph, locked up in a cell,

Things aren’t going well, hey locked up in a cell.

“Close every door to me. Hide all the world from me. Bar all my windows and shut out the light.

Do what you want with me, hate me and laugh at me, Darken my daytime and torture my night.

If my life were important I would ask will I live or die, But I know the answers lie far from this world.

Close every door to me. Keep those I love from me. Children of Israel are never alone, ;

For I know I shall find my own peace of mind,

For I have been promised a land of my own.

© 1969 The Decca Record Co., Ltd. Manufactured and marketed by London Records, a division of Polygram Classics, Inc., 137 West 55th St., New York, N.Y. 10019. Distributed by Polygram Distribution, Inc.

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LONDON”

LC 50019

If my life were important I would ask will I live or die, But I know the answers lie far from this world.

Close every door to me. Keep those I love from me. Children of Israel are never alone,

For we know I shall find our own peace of mind,

For we have been promised a land of our own.

SIDE TWO:

Joseph’s luck was really out, his spirit and his fortune low,

Alone he sat, alone he thought of happy times he used to know.

Hey dreamer! Don’t be so upset.

Hey Joseph! You're not beaten yet.

Go go go Joseph, you know what they say.

Hang on now Joseph, you'll make it one day.

Sha la la Joseph, you're doing fine,

You and your dreamcoat ahead of your time.

The prison walls were wet and black, his chains were heavy, weighed him down.

A candle was his only light, the hungry rats the only sound.

Hey dreamer! Don’t be so upset.

Hey Joseph! You’re not beaten yet

Go go go Joseph, you know what they say.

Hang on now Joseph, you'll make it one day

Sha la la Joseph, you're doing fine,

You and your dreamcoat ahead of your time.

Hey dreamer! Don’t be so upset.

Hey Joseph! You’re not beaten yet

Go go go Joseph, you know what they say.

Hang on now Joseph, you'll make it one day

Sha la la Joseph, you're doing fine,

You and your dreamcoat ahead of your time.

Meanwhile in his bed, Pharaoh had an uneasy night.

He had had a dream that pinned him to his sheets with fright. No-one knew the meaning of the dream,

What to do, whatever could it mean?

Then some lively lad said, ‘‘I know of a bloke in jail Who is hot on dreams, could explain old Pharaoh’s tale.” Pharaoh said ‘Fetch this Joseph man,

I need him to help me if he can.”

Poor poor Pharaoh, what’cha gonna do?

Dreams are haunting you, hey what’cha gonna do?

Poor poor Pharaoh what’cha gonna do?

Dreams are haunting you, hey what’cha gonna do?

Chained and bound, afraid, alone, Joseph stood before the throne. “My service to Pharaoh has begun, Tell me your problems, mighty one.”’

“T was wandering along the banks of the river

When seven fat cows came on out of the Nile

And right behind these fine healthy animals

Came seven other cows that were skinny and vile.

And them the thin cows ate the fat cows, which I thought would do ‘em good,

But it didn’t make ’em fatter, like such a monster supper should,

The thin cows were as thin as they had ever been.

This dream has got me baffled, hey Joseph what does it mean.

Hey, hey Joseph, won’t you tell poor old Pharaoh what does it mean.

Hey, hey Joseph, won’t you tell poor old Pharaoh what does it mean.”

“Seven years of bumper crops are on their way, Years of plenty, endless wheat and tons of hay. Your farms will boom, there won’t be room

To store the surplus food you grow.

After that the future doesn’t look so bright, Egypt’s luck will change completely overnight And famine’s hand will stalk the land

With food an all-time low.

Noble king, there is no doubt

What your dream is all about.

All these things you saw in your pyjamas

Are a long-range forecast for your farmers. And I’m sure it’s crossed your mind

What it is you have to find.

Find a man to lead you through the famine With a flair for economic planning.

But who this man would be I just don’t know. But who this man would be I just don’t know. But who this man would be I just don’t know.”

Pharaoh thought, ‘‘Well stone the crows, this Joseph is a clever kid. Who'd have thought those fourteen cows could mean the things

he said they did? Joseph, you must help me further, I have got a job for you.

You shall lead us through this crisis. You shall be my number two.” Pharaoh told his guards to fetch a chisel from the local store, Whereupon he ordered them to cut the chains that Joseph wore. Joseph got a royal pardon and a host of splendid things,

A chariot of gold, a cloak, a medal and some signet rings. Joseph, Joseph, Pharaoh’s number two,

Joseph, Joseph, Egypt looks to you.

Seven summers on the trot were perfect, just as Joseph said. Joseph saw that food was gathered ready for the years ahead. Seven years of famine followed, Egypt did not mind a bit.

The first recorded rationing in history was a hit.

Back in Canaan the future looked rough,

Jacob’s family were finding it tough,

For the famine had caught them unprepared,

They were thin, they were ill they were getting scared.

In the end they decided to go

Off to Egypt to see brother Jo.

So they all lay before Joseph’s feet,

“Mighty prince, give us something to eat.”

Joseph found it a strain not to laugh because

Not a brother among them knew who he was.

“T shall now take them all for a ride,

After all they have tried fratricide.”’

Joseph handed them sackloads of food

And they grovelled with base gratitude,

Then unseen Joseph nipped out around the back

And planted a cup in young Benjamin’s sack.

When. the brothers were ready to go,

Joseph turned to them all with a terrible stare and said ‘“‘No! No! No! No!

“Stop!” cried Joseph, ‘‘your little number’s up,

One of you has stolen my precious golden cup.”

Joseph started searching through his brothers’ sacks,

Everyone was nervous, no-one could relax.

Who's the thief? Who’s the thief? Who’s the thief? Who’s the thief?

Is it Reuben? No—Is it Simeon? No—Is it Napthali? No—Is it Dan? No. Is it Asher? No—Is it Isaachar? No—Is it Levi? No.

Who’s the man? Is it Zebulun? No—Is it Gad? No—Is it

Judah? No—Is it him?

Could it be, could it be, could it possibly be Benjamin? Yes! Yes! Yes!

“Benjamin, you nasty youth, your crime has shocked me to the core. Never in my whole career have I encountered this before.

Guards seize him lock him in a cell,

Throw the keys into the Nile as well.”

Each of the brothers fell to his knees.

“Show him some mercy, O mighty one, please.

He would not do this, he must have been framed.

Jail us and beat us, we should be blamed.”

And Joseph knew by this his brothers now were honest men,

The time had come at last to reunite them all again.

“Can’t you recognize my face? Is it hard to see

That Joseph, whom you thought was dead, your brother—is me?” “Joseph, Joseph, is it really true?

Joseph, Joseph, is it really you?

Joseph, Joseph.”

So Jacob came to Egypt, no longer feeling old And Joseph went to meet him in his chariot of gold, Of gold, of gold, of gold.

I closed my eyes, drew back the curtain

To see for certain what I thought I knew.

Far far away someone was weeping,

But the world was sleeping. Any dream will do. I wore my coat with golden lining,

Bright colours shining, wonderful and new And in the East the dawn was breaking

And the world was waking. Any dream will do. A crash of drums, a flash of light,

My golden coat flew out of sight.

The colours faded into darkness

I was left alone.

May I return to the beginning,

The light is dimming and the dream is too. The world and I, we are still waiting,

Still hesitating. Any dream will do.

Give me my coat, my amazing coloured coat. Give me my coat, my amazing coloured coat.

© Copyright 1969 Novello & Co., Ltd.

1) =e) 3 - STEREO

JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber Lyrics by Tim Rice A Norrie Paramor Production Novello & Co. Ltd. (ASCAP)

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SIDE TWO STEREO

JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING

Music by Andrew Lloyd Lyrics by Tim R