It's mostly a lie, mostly......except for love, sometimes. 

Look…Drones!

Cast of Characters:
Cgmaness – open.spotify.com/album/42qOeOxPcclsxwxlPynFfL – Chris – Gretch bass, Guild Pelora electric guitar, SoundStone on a Harley Benton electric guitar, vocals, composition, mix, and production
Mistermark-- @user-432503709 -- Mark – organ
Llanpsych–@llanpsych –Tez– Fender Stratocaster electric guitar
K2 and the Three [and the Four]--@k2andthe3, @k2-kara –Ken–drums
Entheogenic Psychonaught (Josh Clary)– @josh-clary-1 –Josh – Roland Phantom synth
TexMex Shaman– @texmex-shaman –Stephen– Gibson Les Paul custom electric guitar

This song began as a mostly fully fleshed out idea from Chris. He presented it to the rest of Eclectic Collective as a bass line with a rhythm guitar chugging the goove. Awesomely powerful groove, but pretty stripped down compared with the final version.

We did this in an odd order this time, for no particular reason. Probably because Chris' bass groove was so strong, Mark was able to first add his ripping organ throughout, inspired by Deep Purple. Tez, again surprisingly, was able to add the fiery solos at the end and the intro, even before the drums were up. Although, we didn't have to wait long for that, because Ken filled them in perfectly, as he always does. Once the structure and rhythm section was complete, Josh decided to add the synth solo in the middle, at the crescendo, which he really enjoyed doing. Stephen came last to the party, but replaced Chris' rudimentary rhythm guitar with a fierocious, but more riff oriented, and less chordy line throughout.

Once it was in the bag, Chris was the natural choice to mix it, since his productions are always top quality, and it was his song to begin with. During the production, he also decided to add the guitar, including the an e-bow like device called a SandStone that sounds a bit like a synth, and vocal tones to the middle and end. He also added the vocalizations you hear in those parts, as well.

This is an example of an Eclecitic Collective song started by Chris, whose music we adore and with whom are always excited to work. His music is all amazing; check out his page if you haven't already. He is also on Spotify, which is where you'll find his new album, which is amazing! We hope you enjoy listening to this song as much as we enjoyed creating it.

The Collective - (Eclectic Collective) song by CGManess

Hello, beautiful people of Soundcloud

Here's yet another interpretation of this blues gem, a blend of several versions of this song that I adore.

Death Letter Blues

Au café      (Translated after the French text )

Vidéo :   https://youtu.be/w2khMpQoAHc


Texte     :  Yves Marilier
Chant     :  Muette
Musique :  Alain Illos

Nous avions rendez-vous
à "La Petite Madeleine"
où nous étions chez nous.
Un café comme on l'aime.
C'est jour anniversaire
de la première fois,
mais tu es à la guerre
et tu ne viendras pas.

J'ai commandé un verre
comm' si tu étais là ;
peut être, je l'espère,
le vin te remplacera.
Tu veux m’écrire une lettre,
je suis venue pour ça,
s'il l’vin tourne la tête,
je crois qu'il m'aidera.

Pour essuyer le fard
qui coule de mes yeux,
je me sers du buvard,
mais je n'y vois pas mieux.
Tu n’as pas écrit une
seule ligne, tu vois,
vu que le porte-plume
se refuse à mes doigts.

J'ai bien peur que la page
ne reste toute blanche
autant que ton visage
qui pleure sur tes manches.
Mais il faut qu'elle s'en aille
te dire tout là-bas
que j'ai le cœur en bataille,
prêt à mourir pour toi. 

Ici, dans notre café
où j'ai vidé mon verre,

l'alcool fait son effet,
elle est finie la guerre
et ma lettre s'envole
pleine de mots d'amour
te dire ma joie folle.
Je rêve à ton retour.
 
Nous avions rendez-vous
à "La Petite Madeleine"
où je suis un peu soûle ;
Dépêche-toi, je t'aime !
Et fais-moi oublier
mes frissons et ma peine,
car je n'ai pas pensé
à mettre une petite laine.
Il faut que tu reviennes.

At Café 

Our appointment was
at "La Petite Madeleine"
where we felt right at home.
A café just the way we like it.
It's the anniversary
of the first time,
but you're at war
and won't be coming.

I've ordered a glass
as if you were here;
maybe, I hope,
the wine will replace you.
You want to write me a letter,
that's why I came,
if l'vin turns his head,
I think he'll help me.

To wipe the blush
from my eyes,
I use the blotting paper,
but I can't see any better.
You haven't written a single
line, you see,
since the
penholder refuses to accept my fingers.

I'm afraid the page
will remain as blank
as your face
weeping on your sleeves.
But it's got to go
tell you all the way over there
that my heart's in knots,
ready to die for you.

Here, in our café
where I've emptied my glass,

the alcohol takes its toll,
the war's over
and my letter flies off
full of words of love
telling you of my mad joy.
I dream of your return.
 
We had an appointment
at "La Petite Madeleine"
where I'm a little drunk;
Hurry up, I love you!
And make me forget
my shivers and my pain,
because I didn't think
of putting on a little wool.
You've got to come back.

Au café avec Muette

"She sat beside him, their shoulders almost touching, yet a canyon of unspoken volumes stretched between them—longing for what could have been and mourning what never was.  Each silence echoed with a thousand words neither dared to speak, the air heavy with the ache of both wanting and withholding.  In the quiet, their hearts told stories their lips never would—have missed chances, of the right words arriving too late, or not at all." 

There's this Flemish/Dutch expression "het spreekt boekdelen" which means something like "speaking volumes". In Flemish it means saying a lot, not with words but with a look or a gesture, usually in emotionally heavy situations. I wondered how one would put it if these emotions, however very present and clear to all concerned, would not be expressed at all. Hence the title "unspoken volumes".
I was reading about synth architecture then and wondered how an electric piano would sound like if I had to program it with a DX7. So I tried to emulate it using FM synthesis. The "unspoken volumes" theme came to me while messing about on the keyboard. The choir seemed like a fun contradiction to this idea of something unspoken.

unspoken volumes

I had the very good fortune to connect with Andy H aka “Noobly” a few months ago over music that we mutually admired and we agreed to find a future opportunity to collaborate. This is the result. Noobly’s beautifully rich track, propelled by his soaring guitar work, felt like a kind of call to prayer to my ear. I tried to echo this somewhat in singing the bridge. Lyrically, just for kicks I used the Socratic Method to construct the verses (persuasion through Q&A) so that this song’s meaning becomes self-evident and hopefully more of a personal experience for each listener. Thanks for checking it out!

Prideful Pride

Do you remember the day when pride took you for its own
When a thief stole something precious in you

Do you remember the day when pride took you for its own
When a thief stole something precious in you
Did it happen when all of your friends cut you out
Was your heart set on winning something, but you lost instead
And when you were maimed did the anger in you surge
Can you mark the moment when you became someone else
Is your truth under layers of scar and combat
Are you the new thief, looting joy from everywhere

Prideful pride keeps piling on, on, on
Building your walls, can’t go wrong, wrong, wrong
Finding it hard to get along, along, along
Your pride is killing you, long before you’re gone, gone, gone

And in the end you’ll be left with nothing
A bright light that’s gone too dim
I have been in a prison of my own before, just like you
Until I let the facade fall
And was set free, free

Are things more difficult now that you are going it alone
And do you leave enough room for both your sadness and your anger
Does that wall keep scary things in, and the invaders out
Are you winning this imaginary war you think you’re fighting

Prideful pride keeps piling on, on, on
Building your walls, ’can’t go wrong, wrong, wrong
Finding it hard to get along, along, along
Your pride is killing you, long before you’re gone, gone, gone


Music/production - Noobly @ https://soundcloud.com/noobly-1
Lyrics/vocals - Todd J McLean
Artwork - Fukushima Greed, 2011 (mixed media) by Todd J McLean

Prideful Pride

Hey I did a mix of my friend @ipg1 cool rap back for more using the classic Eric B and Rackim  - Eric B for president ! https://soundcloud.com/ipg1/welcome-back-for-more-vox-93?in=ipg1/sets/vocals 
Enjoy!
Dx

WELCOME BACK FOR MORE **IPG1 & RICØ**

Une chanson contre la violence conjugale...
A song against domestic violence...
Vocal/intro & Final text : DelhyA  https://soundcloud.com/user-945711181/tracks
Piano/Synth/Arrangement : Régis GAUBERT  musicoman@wanadoo.fr https://soundcloud.com/robspiritduo/tracks
Composer/Arrangements/Guitars/Slide : Philippe SEGUINARD
Lyrics : Guillaume DULER

Lyrics:
J'entends les cris là-haut d'une autre qui se débat , d'une femme qui pour cette fois ci n'est pas moi. Rien ne doit transparaitre , je ne dois pas laisser mes larmes couler et se frayer un chemin jusqu'à mes lèvres scellées . Et même si les bleus sous ma peau se réveillent , je dois les ignorer et agir comme si tout était pareil...
La peur de lui parce qu'un verre de trop
surtout se fondre invisible sans  mots
elle en vit par la force à coté de la vie
prisonnière isolée sans porte de sortie
cécité de son sang et de ses amitiés
ne pas parler se taire rien ne doit transpirer
se voiler d' un rideau de tissus de mensonge
triste jeu de cache cache qui consume et qui  ronge
Et il dit qu'il l'adore...Toujours un peu plus fort... jusqu'à la mort
mentir au soleil quand la lune voit tout
les nuits sont cruelles écrasées de tabous 
la honte qui maquille la vérité trop laide
qui étouffe les cris de ces appels à l'aide
accoudés au silence les sévices bien tranquilles
se prennent du bon temps ils jouent à domicile
au coupable les mains pleines de frappes de raisons
à la victime le doute de fuir sa déraison
Et il dit qu'il l'adore...Toujours un peu plus fort... jusqu'à la mort
le sourire de façade sous des tonnes de semblants
donner le change à celles comblées par leurs amants
vider ses yeux de tout ce qui pourrait trahir
ces miroirs la qui font qu'elle ne pourrait mentir
les bleus des sentiments qui lui cognent à la peau
violence d'un élément qui laisse sur le carreau
un corps vandalisé mort pour la fratrie
tombé au champ d'horreur abattu par celui
Qui disait qu'il l'adore...Toujours un peu plus fort... jusqu'à la mort
des baisers dans la gueule
caresses à poings fermés
d'un amour qui dégueule
de passions débordées
La tendresse des coups
Je ne peux les laisser atteindre ce rivage à nouveau où les vagues d'une mer intérieure continue se brisent en silence...

I can hear the cries of another woman struggling, a woman who this time is not me. I mustn't let anything show, I mustn't let my tears flow and make their way to my sealed lips. And even if the bruises under my skin awaken, I must ignore them and act as if everything were the same...
Fear of him because one glass too many
above all melting away invisible without words
she lives by force beside life
prisoner isolated with no way out
blindness of her blood and her friendships
don't talk shut up nothing must transpire
veil itself with a curtain of cloth of lies
sad game of hide and seek that consumes and gnaws away
And he says he adores her...always a little harder... until death
lie to the sun when the moon sees all
nights are cruel crushed by taboos 
shame that disguises the truth too ugly
that muffles the cries for help
crouched in silence quiet abuse
have a good time they play at home
to the guilty hands full of strikes of reasons
to the victim the doubt to flee his folly
And he says he loves her... always a little harder... until death
the facade of a smile under tons of pretence
giving the lie to those fulfilled by their lovers
emptying her eyes of anything that might betray
those mirrors that make it impossible for her to lie
the bruises of feelings pounding against her skin
violence of an element that leaves
a vandalized body dead for the siblings
fallen in the field of horror shot by the one
who said he adores her...always a little harder... until death
kisses in the face
caresses with closed fists
of a love that spews out
of overflowing passions
The tenderness of blows
I can't let them reach that shore again where the waves of a continuous inner sea break in silence...

© Philippe SEGUINARD/Guillaume DULER  Juillet 2025

La tendresse des coups ( DelhyA - Régis GAUBERT & JIM ) TRANSLATED

"May every sunrise hold more promise and every sunset more peace." ✌️

Mastering by @bahram-dashtii 🙏

Here comes the sun

Sunset

I asked Stéphane if he would consider playing some clarinet on this little tune of mine, and he came up with this magnificent arrangement... That's the DDJohn effect! Welcome on board.

Clarinet: Stéphane (https://soundcloud.com/ddjohn)
Voice, ukulele, guitar: Alexis

Dansons!

Quand le bateau coule
Quand le monde croule
Et les cœurs sont transis

Qu’il n’y a plus d’appel
Ni terre ni ciel
Si sombre soit la nuit

Dansons, dansons
Quitte à rester debout
Happés par la foule anonyme
Eh bien trémoussons-nous

Dansons, dansons
Au milieu des remous
Seule ou lasse, faites-moi signe
Pour danser avec vous

Fi de la panade
De la débandade
Au diable les soucis

Le démon m’appelle
A entrer en selle
Et le bon Dieu aussi

Dansons...

Alexis Roche's Album

Dansons! (with the DDJohn Clarinet Section)

Dilettante singer, guitarist, songwriter.

Les chansons parlent de ce qu'on y entend.

Dansons! (with the DDJohn Clarinet Section)

alexis roche