Heaven Flayer - Same As Always

all instruments: stonerjazz https://soundcloud.com/user-911083679
remix and narration: sonic structures and silent stretches
image: the same collab
info: there are more versions of this canto to emerge from other collab partners. LOOKING FORWARD!

narration: the thirteen canto poem finds its way into sound, a slice at a time

poem / copyright jo richter

How long he stayed, he could not tell.
He worked ferociously, sounding all
existence that had touched upon him into
being: the smell of meadows, the curl of
ripples, the calm that centers in a storm;
the timbre of voices, the straight lines of buildings,
the aloofness of announcers on the radio.
His desk was cluttered, his mind strove clear.


When he did not write, he‘d read up on
the origins of his ancient art: Vergil and Dante,
Marlow and Shakespeare, Homer and Joyce,
Ovidus, Cervantes, Rabelais and Wieland.
He felt the linguistic seeds, blown from foreign
stems, grow filaments deep in his native soil, he
saw them ripen, flower profusely, yielding
their beauty to ever-changing mentalities.


And as his insight widened and he gained
perspective, the rows of encyclopedias
and dictionaries that lined his shelves
slimmed down, as he gave up consulting
English for French and German, these for
Latin and Greek, those for Persian and Sanskrit,
until he only referred to Indo-European roots.
His desk turned clear, his mind became uncluttered.


Eventually, he also slept and dreamt
whenever the veil sank upon him.
Guarded by the spire‘s safe walls, he would
awaken slowly, remembering outlandish
lore, scribbling notes and poems of bizarre
truthfulness and penning recollections of his
archetypal ties. Some of his realistic verse de-
rived from fragments of prolonged poetic trance.


 His muse meanwhile taught him to cook, the
art of mixing individual ingredients to bring about
a taste all of its own that nourishes both mind and
physicality. The painters tend to fixate on surface
and colour, she said, the musicians on timing
the process, whereas the poets never get anything
done, enchanted by words like ‚ginger‘ or ‚yeast‘.
All of their dishes taste awful.

Departure Canto IV with Stonerjazz

Westcoast

astrigent pattern

Music from the album - Keep It Real
Music by Nick Rangel
©Nick Rangel 2023

Love At Dusk

Pennsylvania

Desire Paths

Play!

New mix made for video 😁: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8gWw5P1xmo

Milestones And Crossroads (Launch mix)

It's Too Late

Requisitory

friendly tennis

DOWNHILL SLIDE
Lyrics by Tony Harris (that inspired Glen to create this track)
Vocals, Music and Mix by Glen Granthem 

HE WOKE UP ONE MORNIN'
ON A DOWNHILL SLIDE
DIDN'T KNOW WHERE HE WAS GOIN'
HAD BEEN A LONG HARD RIDE

HE HAD HOLES IN HIS SHOES
PATCHES ON HIS BRITCHES
NOTHIN' LEFT TO LOSE
TRYIN' TO STAY BETWEEN THE DITCHES

SEEMED HE'D LOST HIS WAY
DIDN'T KNOW WHERE HE'D BEEN
HAD NO WHERE TO STAY
HE JUST COULDN'T WIN

(CHORUS)
ON A DOWNHILL SLIDE
WITH THE DEVIL AS HIS GUIDE
ON A DOWNHILL SLIDE
COULD BE HIS LAST RIDE
ON A DOWNHILL SLIDE
WITH THE DEVIL AS HIS GUIDE
ON A DOWNHILL SLIDE
WITH THE DEVIL AS HIS GUIDE

HE FOUND OUT THE HARD WAY
ON THE WAY TO ROCK BOTTOM
THAT LIFE'S NOT ALL PLAY
HE WAS THE PROBLEM

LOST SOME GOOD FRIENDS
LETTIN' THE DEVIL BE HIS GUIDE
PROMISED HIM GOOD TIMES
IF HE'D TAKE THAT RIDE

DON'T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE
DON'T TAKE THAT RIDE
CHANGE BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE
IT'S A DOWNHILL SLIDE
IT'S A DOWNHILL SLIDE

(REPEAT CHORUS)

2019 © Lyrics by Tony Harris (BMI)

Play!

Il Camaleonte

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