This is like, hmm... like talking to a stranger on a train. First, it's nothing about, and then suddenly you discover that you're about to tell your life; or you listen to someone's story, seemingly intricate or simple (and therefore seemed familiar…
igor,,, there is something about the soul or music from your native land,,, that has always surpassed// amazed my inner self,, that,,, hard to say,,,,,is soooooo beautiful and touching,,, once again well done friend r
This is like, hmm... like talking to a stranger on a train. First, it's nothing about, and then suddenly you discover that you're about to tell your life; or you listen to someone's story, seemingly intricate or simple (and therefore seemed familiar…
This is like, hmm... like talking to a stranger on a train. First, it's nothing about, and then suddenly you discover that you're about to tell your life; or you listen to someone's story, seemingly intricate or simple (and therefore seemed familiar…
This is like, hmm... like talking to a stranger on a train. First, it's nothing about, and then suddenly you discover that you're about to tell your life; or you listen to someone's story, seemingly intricate or simple (and therefore seemed familiar…
This is like, hmm... like talking to a stranger on a train. First, it's nothing about, and then suddenly you discover that you're about to tell your life; or you listen to someone's story, seemingly intricate or simple (and therefore seemed familiar…
This is like, hmm... like talking to a stranger on a train. First, it's nothing about, and then suddenly you discover that you're about to tell your life; or you listen to someone's story, seemingly intricate or simple (and therefore seemed familiar…
This is like, hmm... like talking to a stranger on a train. First, it's nothing about, and then suddenly you discover that you're about to tell your life; or you listen to someone's story, seemingly intricate or simple (and therefore seemed familiar…
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
..they recently moved in, watched telly, so-so, and... a neighbor, according to the old-fashioned custom, decided to go with the cake, get to know them and all that. Who'd have known?
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
They were watching the world go by from the living room window when suddenly one drops behind the settee shortly followed by the other....one says to be other In a whisper ........"Theres someone at the door"......"you answer it "..."no you do it "...."no."...."well look out the window then"...."it's the Avon lady "...the Avon lady pressed the door bell ....and time stopped inside the house....was she heard by the two acid heads hiding behind the settee.........there was no answer .....she walked away......as they trembled
As turning the pages of memory, randomly and lento. All that I know, is seen not as it was actually, but with age and experience (...dusted?). How can I forget? Do I need to?
~Kudamm distant bells ringing not for me, not for us, not for who…
As turning the pages of memory, randomly and lento. All that I know, is seen not as it was actually, but with age and experience (...dusted?). How can I forget? Do I need to?
~Kudamm distant bells ringing not for me, not for us, not for who…
As turning the pages of memory, randomly and lento. All that I know, is seen not as it was actually, but with age and experience (...dusted?). How can I forget? Do I need to?
~Kudamm distant bells ringing not for me, not for us, not for who…
As turning the pages of memory, randomly and lento. All that I know, is seen not as it was actually, but with age and experience (...dusted?). How can I forget? Do I need to?
~Kudamm distant bells ringing not for me, not for us, not for who…
The amazing thing, Trev, is that it is impossible to discover the forgotten, we can only try, and then, if successful, you will receive a "recollection of memories", also different from one time to another. That in itself is interesting, but sometimes it has nothing to do with reality, as I understand.
Note: I write this from the train, from Berlin to Hamburg.
As turning the pages of memory, randomly and lento. All that I know, is seen not as it was actually, but with age and experience (...dusted?). How can I forget? Do I need to?
~Kudamm distant bells ringing not for me, not for us, not for who…
This is a synopsis of Reg's favourite movie put to music. Sorry about the length but what can you do, when you have a story to tell, you can't cut it short can you? This is one to download for the car to listen to on that boring journey or when…
Dry lines of newspaper reports that day, including:
Desirae Loy, also known as *Johnny's Girl*, said: I swear he don't trust me no more that or he is realy *jelouse*
my contribution/offering to this years RPM...Does it ever happen that angels or devils perhaps walk among us mortals here on our earth?? Winter Nacht is a 11 act dialogue between two travelers who meet in the winter twilight, on a road in the…
~and finally to fight~
Finally: the struggle of opposites, the conflict between light and darkness, inconsistencies of beginning and end. Type of music: the Messiah. Or what we understand as it is.
Assured of that morning has already come, the person, hardly having risen, has approached to a window. "Here you are, my old friend Madness" - he thought, and stepped forward. The wall did not succumb, though. The windows were not.
~no way out~
This is a bootleg tape of Reg's last music therapy session from when he was in prison prior to his release. It was acquired from his psychiatrist for fee......................
The path to liberation - is a fraud, and he, of course, well aware of this when paying for the record [that you could get for free]. in fact, that money was for...
1st voice: how, he still reads newspapers?
2nd voice, answers: probably yes ...
1st voice bewilderment: why does he do it?
Third voice (presumably female): he thinks it it the way to join the world.
1st voice, thoughtfully: Yeah ... How much he still must go to ...
~communication breakdown~
Title song from this years RPM Challenge.
Lyrics:
Shot dead
is what I felt when I first looked into your eyes
Shot dead
Is what I became, I tell you that ain't no lie
My head
it just exploded when I saw that way that you dance
Off…
Reworked the vocals a bit (quite a bit). And yet again! And now, Gumbo Stu is singing backup bits. Thanks for the vocals Gumbo, a very welcome addition!
And, as requested, here are the lyrics:
I'm Not Afraid
You can blow me up
You…
In response to a suggestion of Dr. Ozan Yarman I tried a tuning he created for a different project. I realized the composition using Garritan Personal Orchestra Baroque organs, Garritan World sample set Oud and Santoor samples performed on an…
During therapy Reg has had a break through thanks to another visitor to the cellar another friend of Elvis's Pavarotti .........then Reg thought the orchestra was too much so he sacked them and just left pianist to accompany the vocalist.......
~hardly way to see you~
I knew a guy who is very early married a girl with the same name as this song. They lived-lived, have "amassed" three sons, a bobcat and no treasures but friends. I don't be surprised if I find out that they live so far, and enjoy that The Man with the funny scarf sings a wonderful song about them. Miracle.
Was Reg daydreaming had Robert Plant really just come down the cellar bar to visit Elvis and sang while he played. He shook his head and resumed playing .....................
Reg has seriously got the blues and can't seem to leave the empty bar, there is just him and Elvis in there. The strange thing is that the tables and chairs are there, the bar and the stools but there is no booze behind the bar just empty glasses…
~immersed~
They all said: Do not go in blues so deep, don't. I did not listen and slid down, down. It was cool, was cool, then cold. And who remembers me now as someone who trudged from the sounds of Led Zep, eh?
This is like a mission for the Doom Patrol
I need a robot body for my brain
Miss Callas calls
the dopamine exhanges
the sound of down
And there is danger everywhere
the scissor men are coming
House of icons
Felt like cards
The brilliant…
This was one of several songs I recorded in a session on the night of my 29th birthday. I had decided to just start playing and see how many tunes I could write straight through without stopping. My only rule was that these tunes had to be totally…
~too heavy a burden~
... he'll never wake up, nor to fly off. He calls it the "blues-soul-comes-out". He still remains with us, the poor sinners. We, however, only do not know: to rejoice over it, or what? Yeah-h...
~that's true, baby, true~
Comments on igor's stuff
igor,,, there is something about the soul or music from your native land,,, that has always surpassed// amazed my inner self,, that,,, hard to say,,,,,is soooooo beautiful and touching,,, once again well done friend r
Absolutely gorgeous & so moving. w;-)
Nicely done mate great playing.
Beautiful, pensive yet inquisitive. Love your stuff, sir.
I feel i know the stranger a little better now.........
Beautiful.
Wonderful music.
A higher musical consciousness. Meditative.
Magnificent performance Igor. One of your best.
Life itself is a waiting, if you try to plan it. What if you do not plan, but just to live?
Absolutely gorgeous! w;-)
someone once said (R. Hinelin i believe) waiting is becoming.......most beautiful friend
That was beautiful Igor.
..they recently moved in, watched telly, so-so, and... a neighbor, according to the old-fashioned custom, decided to go with the cake, get to know them and all that. Who'd have known?
They were watching the world go by from the living room window when suddenly one drops behind the settee shortly followed by the other....one says to be other In a whisper ........"Theres someone at the door"......"you answer it "..."no you do it "...."no."...."well look out the window then"...."it's the Avon lady "...the Avon lady pressed the door bell ....and time stopped inside the house....was she heard by the two acid heads hiding behind the settee.........there was no answer .....she walked away......as they trembled
to drorkesser: it is a delay with "tail decay".
Nice ... is the background keyboard or an infinite (type) reverb?
...and thank you all for listening, brothers.
The amazing thing, Trev, is that it is impossible to discover the forgotten, we can only try, and then, if successful, you will receive a "recollection of memories", also different from one time to another. That in itself is interesting, but sometimes it has nothing to do with reality, as I understand. Note: I write this from the train, from Berlin to Hamburg.
Wandering backwards in memory at an alarming pace to discover the forgotten to remember that you wanted to forget
Comments made by igor
~...he was just stutterer, Reggy~ I was here until the end and realized not all, of what was here. Why d-do they look at-t-t me, hmm? :-)
Dry lines of newspaper reports that day, including: Desirae Loy, also known as *Johnny's Girl*, said: I swear he don't trust me no more that or he is realy *jelouse*
~and finally to fight~ Finally: the struggle of opposites, the conflict between light and darkness, inconsistencies of beginning and end. Type of music: the Messiah. Or what we understand as it is.
Assured of that morning has already come, the person, hardly having risen, has approached to a window. "Here you are, my old friend Madness" - he thought, and stepped forward. The wall did not succumb, though. The windows were not. ~no way out~
How wonderful to hear this - the successor of real Apple/Parlophone sound/nature.
The path to liberation - is a fraud, and he, of course, well aware of this when paying for the record [that you could get for free]. in fact, that money was for...
1st voice: how, he still reads newspapers? 2nd voice, answers: probably yes ... 1st voice bewilderment: why does he do it? Third voice (presumably female): he thinks it it the way to join the world. 1st voice, thoughtfully: Yeah ... How much he still must go to ... ~communication breakdown~
~Angry Roller~
It makes me well. And brave.
~Dead.Can.Dance~
~visitor to the cellar of the soul that waits. Waits for the opera to come~
~hardly way to see you~ I knew a guy who is very early married a girl with the same name as this song. They lived-lived, have "amassed" three sons, a bobcat and no treasures but friends. I don't be surprised if I find out that they live so far, and enjoy that The Man with the funny scarf sings a wonderful song about them. Miracle.
~here is a Rush voice~
O!
...and resumed to sound to the now empty room, for the empty room...
~immersed~ They all said: Do not go in blues so deep, don't. I did not listen and slid down, down. It was cool, was cool, then cold. And who remembers me now as someone who trudged from the sounds of Led Zep, eh?
~and there was no danger~
~in a mellow tune~
~sweetheart of mine~
~too heavy a burden~ ... he'll never wake up, nor to fly off. He calls it the "blues-soul-comes-out". He still remains with us, the poor sinners. We, however, only do not know: to rejoice over it, or what? Yeah-h... ~that's true, baby, true~