~timeless~
Rhythms of modern life, which comes from the environment and force us to follow, are often (let say, always) does not correspond to our inner rhythms. First, we do not have time to stop, think, or simply do nothing. Then when we…
The time will come and our grand-grand-grandchildren will not know how open and easy we (at least some of us) were. How we was loved, grieve, fought-then-reconciled. ...and again, again.
~vintage synths do not tolerate midi/programming/planning…
~timeless~
Rhythms of modern life, which comes from the environment and force us to follow, are often (let say, always) does not correspond to our inner rhythms. First, we do not have time to stop, think, or simply do nothing. Then when we…
~timeless~
Rhythms of modern life, which comes from the environment and force us to follow, are often (let say, always) does not correspond to our inner rhythms. First, we do not have time to stop, think, or simply do nothing. Then when we…
The time will come and our grand-grand-grandchildren will not know how open and easy we (at least some of us) were. How we was loved, grieve, fought-then-reconciled. ...and again, again.
~vintage synths do not tolerate midi/programming/planning…
The time will come and our grand-grand-grandchildren will not know how open and easy we (at least some of us) were. How we was loved, grieve, fought-then-reconciled. ...and again, again.
~vintage synths do not tolerate midi/programming/planning…
The time will come and our grand-grand-grandchildren will not know how open and easy we (at least some of us) were. How we was loved, grieve, fought-then-reconciled. ...and again, again.
~vintage synths do not tolerate midi/programming/planning…
~timeless~
Rhythms of modern life, which comes from the environment and force us to follow, are often (let say, always) does not correspond to our inner rhythms. First, we do not have time to stop, think, or simply do nothing. Then when we…
~timeless~
Rhythms of modern life, which comes from the environment and force us to follow, are often (let say, always) does not correspond to our inner rhythms. First, we do not have time to stop, think, or simply do nothing. Then when we…
~timeless~
Rhythms of modern life, which comes from the environment and force us to follow, are often (let say, always) does not correspond to our inner rhythms. First, we do not have time to stop, think, or simply do nothing. Then when we…
Well, Kai and Gerda have returned home, all wonderful and all that. And who would think of the poor Snow Queen? After all, she, too, is experiencing her own way. She was left alone in his ice palace, and quietly weeping. She has come to eternity. She wins.
This is about the free spirit soaring high above the seas, forests, cities and times.
~There is no dark side in the moon, really. As a matter of fact it's all dark~
I almost do not use midi - it is boring and requires programming (even if it's one of my majors), which in the live music has no place. I record analog signal directly into the LogicPro (with Apogee/Mackie) and then work with pieces in Logic like the score, with layers and structures and inserts and...
most beautiful,, the soft moments of tension set amidst the gentle flow of note and silence is exquisite,,,, on another note, acoustic or midi? the reverb of the base strings is really amazing,, sensual even,,, what are those squeaks in the into and end midi sounds or the creaking of the bench,,, a very rich and full piece Richard
With My Sister Kathy Bores
Last Waltz Of The Evening
The last waltz of the evening
Last dance of the night
I’m making the most of each beat of my heart
Music plays and I’m holding you so tight
Hard to see it come to an end
But it’s going to…
To be true to yourself - how is it? True to the sound that you retrieved from the instrument, to give [share] it away to others (to whom? you'll never know)? True to the mood that you're trying to follow, and which changes before you realize what…
Maybe I missed a career scoring for no budget spaghetti westerns, because this is what this reminds me of. Done live a couple weeks ago with the Taylor and a floor full of toys and loopers.
Maybe a career, or a time...
"Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. We're going to have to earn it." (as Blondie write it on a rock in the middle of the graveyard and as well as tells it to Tuco and Angel Eyes)
A bit of improv done yesterday with my newly refurbished fretless guitar. Finally got the midi pickup to track almost right! Part of the sounds were gotten by rubbing a teaspoon on the strings.
i was trying to work on a piece for a shark video of mine, but this is what came out instead,, my piano moments collections are the small musical threads that emerge amongst/while i am working/thinking about other things,,,
In Memorium Of: Carlos Heller
El Guitarrista
A song for a man that has played to thousands who passed him in church street whilst he busked with all his heart.
This song is to pay tribute to a man that inspired me to play Live. I even had…
For you to speakSo it seems we lost our voice
Stripped down bare on copper line
Raw to subtle ears
I wait
On the line
I wait for you to speak
Of some good news to hear
While we talk ....
Can you speak your mind
I still wait for that old voice…
~
One voice, covered with dust,
Finally made his way
Through the copper lines,
Where for many years there was nothing.
Only the sound of the trumpet, sad, calling.
The life means....
~
Feel So Blue
Shes the kinda lady I've wanted all my life
The kinda lady that you want to make your wife
Once i found her I never stop the chase
I didn't want my entire life to turn out to be a waste
So I told her that I loved he…
Summer Sun
Sitting in the summer sun
The heat warms the soul
Sitting reminiscing
Got no particular place go
life is all around me
The motion of the birds and bees
Is like heaven to me
Heaven to me
I lay out in an open field
Making…
Saturday morning, the day off with an iPad on the sofa; listening to alonetoners. Svetlana: "...the one who sings now - who?" me: "this is Brett from Illinois". She: "Hmm, let's hear more of his music. Interesting voice"
One for the Musical i think a gin soaked Tramp semiconscious laying collapse on his back……………………
He wants to fly (Lyrics)
The nights memories
Fade when he lies
Looking up to a polka dotted sky
Falling backwards into a gin Soaked to the skin…
He said to himself: "I will not want to fly"
He kept saying: "'cause I do not want to!"
Wax dripped and dripped, tears ...
No one wanted to fall down,
But too late: you took off already.
"Higher!", as they said.
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?
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.
Comments on igor's stuff
Who wants to weep for eternity though even if it is accompanied by beautiful, rippling music.
sweet little piece,, quietly evocative, R
Eccentric and refreshing!
Sublime.
Lovely! All very nice new pieces
Very Nice! And a little different for you
Cool ole tones.
Another very cool track mate
Now that was enjoyable very relaxing
very nice
Simply beautiful.
Well, Kai and Gerda have returned home, all wonderful and all that. And who would think of the poor Snow Queen? After all, she, too, is experiencing her own way. She was left alone in his ice palace, and quietly weeping. She has come to eternity. She wins.
Beautiful Igor very well played indeed.
Sounds like healing...or sunshine reaching through breaking clouds.
Agree with Kirk. Nice ambient piano and use of space, between the notes.
Gorgeous piece Igor!
beautiful Igor great playing. Very cool.
I almost do not use midi - it is boring and requires programming (even if it's one of my majors), which in the live music has no place. I record analog signal directly into the LogicPro (with Apogee/Mackie) and then work with pieces in Logic like the score, with layers and structures and inserts and...
Beautiful music...
most beautiful,, the soft moments of tension set amidst the gentle flow of note and silence is exquisite,,,, on another note, acoustic or midi? the reverb of the base strings is really amazing,, sensual even,,, what are those squeaks in the into and end midi sounds or the creaking of the bench,,, a very rich and full piece Richard
Comments made by igor
~All things will pass, yeah...~
~Aamu suolla, aina sumuinen aina~ Nice vocals, finnish, unreal.
~under the sign of redshift~ (merkin alla punasiirtymä:)
Sometimes the mood is like water in a creek, flowing, changing, and no one knows where it lead... (to Kirk:)
Maybe a career, or a time... "Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. We're going to have to earn it." (as Blondie write it on a rock in the middle of the graveyard and as well as tells it to Tuco and Angel Eyes)
~tea for six, fretless; slipping up~
~Silenzio è ipnotizzante~
~guitarra real~
~ One voice, covered with dust, Finally made his way Through the copper lines, Where for many years there was nothing. Only the sound of the trumpet, sad, calling. The life means.... ~
You're The Man, Trev.
I listening to it. I flying away.
Saturday morning, the day off with an iPad on the sofa; listening to alonetoners. Svetlana: "...the one who sings now - who?" me: "this is Brett from Illinois". She: "Hmm, let's hear more of his music. Interesting voice"
He said to himself: "I will not want to fly" He kept saying: "'cause I do not want to!" Wax dripped and dripped, tears ... No one wanted to fall down, But too late: you took off already. "Higher!", as they said.
Soldiers on the ground, Have won, How many of them already? How many more will be? I want to be a hero, Too...
Life itself is a waiting, if you try to plan it. What if you do not plan, but just to live?
..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?
to drorkesser: it is a delay with "tail decay".
Great one, I really like (and proud about) it. Let us think about new one, Trev.
...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.