Name: Questions by Nadìr
Duration: 3 min
Description: work in progress

great ambience on this track - the reduction of elements work very well to create athmosphere

Bamboo

Il Cammino Dell'Acqua

Questions

T-Rhythm of Metamorphosis

The Sugar Coated Pill

Several recordings on vcv rack. 
recorded in ableton and then mixed on the fly in cubase.
Work in progress

Three Acts

Sax ensemble, sax solo and mastering, Mario Sboarina https://soundcloud.com/rosmarinobaia 
Sonopoetry (stream of consciousness technique) and mixing, Ilaria Boffa
pic, Euganean Hills, June 2023, IB

Elegy
The river is no longer that river
the landscape not that landscape
you used to skirt and redraw.

I see you crossing soybean fields 
dauntless and determined like an African woman 
balancing a basket on her head.

I wish I could plunge my fingers
into your fur dense and wavier 
and pretend I hadn’t counted your vertebrae. 

Cracks smash the meadow, unsteady 
the narrow access to the bight, boots tag along 
tearing off lianas behind you.

The damp of splashes in the swoosh and chirp
of countless plants and flights
over four thousand four hundred eighty-six days.

Pervasive your gaze on things
the way you located yourself in space
never arbitrary.

Head held down to meet mine
wilderness and wild thistles’ scent
bora.

When dismay floods in, sudden
a pang of loneliness sucks up the void
crushing it in the throat tightened 

as if by rope.
Thus you unveiled surrender and
what has been will not be.

Elegia
Il fiume non è più quel fiume 
il paesaggio non più quel paesaggio
che eri solita costeggiare e ridisegnare. 

Ti vedo attraversare i campi di soia
impavida e determinata come una donna africana
la cesta sul capo.

Vorrei poter affondare le mie dita
nel tuo pelo spesso e ondulato
e fingere di non aver contato le vertebre.

Crepe spaccano il terreno, instabile 
lo stretto accesso all’ansa, gli stivali inseguono 
strappano liane dietro di voi.

Umido di schizzi nel fruscio e cinguettio
di innumerevoli piante e voli
in quattromilaquattrocentoottantasei giorni.

Pervasivo il tuo sguardo sulle cose 
il modo di posizionarti nello spazio
mai casuale.

La testa abbassata a incontrare la mia 
odore di landa e cardi selvatici
bora.

Quando assale improvviso lo sgomento 
una fitta di solitudine risucchia il vuoto
e lo preme nella gola costretta 

come da corda.
Così hai rivelato la resa e
ciò che è stato non sarà.

Elegy/Elegia (Mario Sboarina & Ilaria Boffa)

youtuboy : https://youtu.be/5VPYzmNmpus?si=7f7k1jA1GmqnsBs9

spotify : https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/track/59BskQv2ymOdBFKZcyeHEn?si=94c63241ed474e42

???

180823 : la basse(sse) discrète & le triomphe sans théâtre.

???

190823 :attendre le passage de la nef des fous. Déjà tant & tant contenu dans le présent, maintenant, ici, que ça peut affecter aux larmes.

13 Gnoses (Vol.1)

nag atropos

I release again this reggae music with a faster tempo and a better mix.
Thank you for listening !

Composition: Julien Apelian
Recording studio: Audio Colors
December, 21th, 2023

Hope

I think I made a nice suckstep this morning:)
So it will become a good day.

like the titel says, I used a track (loop detuned)of DEIMOS!!!
greetings to my good old friends <3
(4tk-taperecording Monteith Barracks 1999)

the picture is just some senf

<3 you soundcloudfriends and soundcloud!
have a good day everybody

DEIMOS I I I 3

This album emerges from the rediscovery of an accordion following the loss of a close relative an instrument that had been a constant companion throughout their life, weaving itself into the fabric of childhood memory. At its core lies the recognition that both human and
accordion share the same essential act: breathing.

The accordion becomes a meditation on mortality and memory, its bellows expanding and contracting like "lungs", its air valve releasing pure breath without melody—the raw pneumatic essence of life itself. Every sound originates from this single instrument, largely unprocessed, preserving the intimate relationship between human touch and mechanical response.

It’s an investigation of how an instrument can hold the memory of hands that no longer play it. The mechanical whispers, the subtle articulations of metal and leather and wood become a language of remembrance, breathed rather than spoken.

Bandcamp

Of a Distant Memory

experimental musician/soundmaker from Apuliae
Born in 1978

Welcome here to everyone.

I hope what you'll hear inspires you.

For your growth or fall
Through the cathartic world of sounds 
that I try to propose. 

A test area 

A search for meaning 
Of this passage for ours.

Sound as a primordial frequency
Before any acquired significance

If what you hear resonates with your tuning fork
A like and a repost would be of great support.

May your journey be pleasant and constructive
in this sea of instants called life

The eternity of our days.



Questions

Nadìr

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