Maybe at night maybe not maybe the rise…

The vocals are a little buried - otherwise, great tune.

Nice strumming on the guitar on this one.

love the playful synth sounds and great chill beat

very cool,  sets  up such an atmosphere, vocals are almost like a ghost speaking from beyond the grave ,   heavy stuff

Summerwind

All Shook Up Elvis Presley cover

Scottish traditional folksong ( (Roud 3103), reworked.

------------

Organ, guitars, programming & vox by The Darkstars.

Cover design by M. Whyte.

*Dread Helm Records [DHR0011]*

Black is the Colour

This song is about the war in Israel, from the time a soldier is called-up for duty to protect his land, and him paying the ultimate price for his/her service. It's also a song about those who are affected by the loss of the solider who is not coming home. Produced/Arranged by Steve Duffie, John M Horner. Performed by Khalednk, and Phil Farrott I hope 'I Saw The Fire' strikes a nerve within you. Also, thanks to Rohma S. who provided the LP Cover.

I Saw The Fire

https://open.spotify.com/track/3EGhykPMYhFNw5Sj67OGqf


ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛ
(𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯)

As we tread through the labyrinth of existence, we face decisions that shape our future, evoking a sense of ambiguity and wonder. And this was me, as though I was running out of time maybe I am or maybe I'm not. But still... here you are

Peace and Stars Mom,
see you in the clouds...


Recorded between May14/15 2023



𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙤 𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙩:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/0o3xeERjREtlDMHOGUUitT

https://instagram.com/andreaevmusik

https://youtube.com/@andreaevmusik

☿



Lyrics:


Saw your future in advance 
You took a pose and shot a frame
Drop that picture in the sand
I might get back or sail away

Every fire has spoken
Every made-up broken wall

Here's your future in your face
You become water, fire and breath
Here's your future in the sand
Another you another place

Everyday is stuck and
Everyday is stuck and you roam

Every fire has spoken
Every made-up broken wall

Everyday is stuck and
Everyday is stuck and you roam

-------------------------------------
Andrea Ev, May 18th 2021

℗ © Andrea Ev - 2023

Maybe Not (Night Version)

Light On

Translation above

Sur un texte de Christian Portet www.facebook.com/christian.portetmapage
Voix de Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel www.facebook.com/jeanpaul.gaidodaniel
Photo montage du Manneken Pis et de la statue de Jacques Brel par Tom Frantzen, à Bruxelles

GRAND JACQUES
Grand Jacques, enfant chéri des mers
Qui sent si bon la mort et la bière,
Ne me quitte pas avant mon dernier repas
À Amsterdam ou à Bruxelles. Je ne sais pas...

On n'oublie rien du plat pays de tes bourgeois :
Isabelle, Clara, Marieke avec Mathilde et La Fanette
Arrivent en passant par Vesoul sur la place des rois
Où les soirs d'été sont frais pour l'éclusier dans la tempête !

Les paumés d'un petit matin, creusés au froid d'une Belgique chienne, Refermeront les fenêtres sur les ivrognes solitaires aux prières païennes. Bergers amidonnés d'un vieux port en partance pour filles et chiens, Capitaines ou singes, bigotes irréfléchies comme biches de rien.

Ces gens-là, rassasiés de tango funèbre, ne pensent qu'au suivant,
Et qui pour des bonbons, en parlotant, finiront par oublier le fier moribond En sachant déjà pourtant que vieux, ils ne seront ni beaux, ni cons,
Et qu'un Don Quichotte à jeun pour un jour fera revenir leur maman.

Tu as quitté les risques du métier pour une aventure, aventure. Anarchiste chez Bonnot comme accordéon d'une valse à mille temps Pour une tendresse imaginée où les toros se fracassent contre les murs, Lucifer trop fragile sur ton cheval trop vrai pour faire pleurer les vivants !

Grand Jacques, enfant chéri des mers, Avec tes deux pianos et ton accordéon Quand tu rechantes ta chanson,
Tu sens si bon la mort et la bière...
La la la Grand Jacques La la la ...
Texte de Christian Portet
Musique de Myckaël Marcovic, 05/12/2023

With text by Christian Portet www.facebook.com/christian.portetmapage
Voices by Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel www.facebook.com/jeanpaul.gaidodaniel
Photo montage of Manneken Pis and Jacques Brel statue by Tom Frantzen, Brussels

GRAND JACQUES
Grand Jacques, beloved child of the seas
Who smells so good of death and beer,
Don't leave me until my last meal
In Amsterdam or Brussels. Je ne sais pas...

We don't forget anything from the flat country of your bourgeois :
Isabelle, Clara, Marieke with Mathilde and La Fanette
Arrive via Vesoul on the Place des rois
Where summer evenings are cool for the lock-keeper in the storm!

The lost of an early morning, dug in the cold of a dogged Belgium, Will close the windows on the solitary drunkards with pagan prayers. Starched shepherds of an old port on their way to girls and dogs, Captains or monkeys, thoughtless bigots like deer of nothing.

These people, full of funeral tango, only think of the next,
And who, for the sake of candy, end up forgetting the proud moribund Knowing already that old, they'll be neither handsome nor stupid,
And that a sober Don Quixote for a day will bring back their mother.
You left the risks of the profession for an adventure, adventure. Anarchist at Bonnot's as accordion in a thousand-beat waltz For an imagined tenderness where toros smash against walls, Lucifer too fragile on your horse too true to make the living weep!

Grand Jacques, cherished child of the seas, 
With your two pianos and your accordion
When you sing your song again,
You smell so good of death and beer...
La la la Grand Jacques La la la la ...

Text by Christian Portet
Music by Myckaël Marcovic, 05/12/2023

Grand Jacques (Christian Portet / Myckaël Marcovic feat. Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel)

Pauper's Weed

Written, recorded and produced at Cat Box Studio, Metro Detroit.

Lyrics:
My mind is floating on a sea of "running out of time".
I survive, barely getting good at barely getting by.

And our heart has spoken, but you see the words are broken.
You can't take another day.
Set aside dreams of wealth, your way of life, and mental health.
You Don't hear a word I say.

Fall out from the navigation and a proper destination, pushing it aside.
Pause, rewind, reflect, refine. It doesn't work that way.

And our heart has spoken, but you see the words are broken.
You can't take another day.
Set aside dreams of wealth, your way of life, and mental health.
You don't hear a word I say. You won't listen anyway.

It was wrong from the start.
Add it up and multiply. Set the bar, I'm still not getting by.

And our heart has spoken, but you see the words are broken.
You can't take another day.
Set aside dreams of wealth, your way of life, your sense of self.
You don't hear a word I say.
Stack them up on broken walls. Throw the stones and watch them fall.

You don't hear me, you won't listen, I can't take another day.

Pause, Rewind

Je regarde le ciel étoilé. Au début c'est un merveilleux rêve. Puis mon esprit dérive : l'espèce humaine fait tellement de bruit en permanence alors qu'elle ne représente tellement rien à l'échelle de l'univers...

Pour une étoile

𝙇𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙉𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙎𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙋𝙤𝙥𝙁𝙤𝙡𝙠

~this is an individual journey~

Minimal Sonic, Alternative folk, Dream pop, Psychedelic folk, Acoustic music, Neo-psychedelia, Psychedelia


I'm all about dishing out raw emotions.. Sometimes you just gotta have to shift perspective.


And, you might as well consider dropping a comment, hit the like/follow button and check my links out too please.. can you swing it?

Thanks a ton
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Maybe Not (Night Version)

Andrea Ev

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