Who Killed The Blues

A new 70's era track.
Enjoy!
https://youtu.be/tBCo9S2LNeI

Little Pieces

A slow and melancholic song, hope you like it.

Excuse me on Spotify: shorturl.at/hstFI
Spotify Playlist: https://rb.gy/hnzhvq
YouTube: https://youtu.be/82n6jeKPRo0

Facts about this Track:
Idea, Arrangment, Audio-Editing and Midi-Programming, Guitar playing, Mixing and Mastering by Ray

Vocals: Audio-Samples

DAW: PreSonus Studio One Professional 5
Guitar: Fender Stratocaster
Drums: EZDrummer Gospel
Percussion: EZDrummer Latin Percussion
Bass: EZBass
Keys: Aturia STAGE-73 V, EZKeys Electric 200A

Excuse Me

https://youtu.be/4a8wFJ6b4d8 

Translation above.

Chanson écrite dans le cadre des ateliers d'écriture de Claude Lemesle. Thème : écrit sur une feuille d'automne.

Ces cris

L’été s’essoufflait
À tomber dans les pommes
Devant ce vent d’automne
Qui glaçait
Oh ! ces cris, ces cris…

Le vent dénudait
Les branches d’un platane
Quand les feuilles se fanent
À regret
Et ces cris, ces cris…

Sur le sol tremblait
L’âme de l’une d’elle
Qui, pourtant encor’ belle
M’appelait
Encore ces cris…

Je m’agenouillai
La posai sur ma paume
Ainsi que sur un trône
Bien douillet
Toujours ces cris…

Ses nervur’s traçaient
Des lign’s de vie diaphanes
Qui, sans appel, condamnent
Un portrait
Mais ces cris, ces cris ?

Lucide, ell’ criait
C’était des cris d’automne
Craquants, qui se dérobent
À jamais
Plus de cris, de cris…

Mais elle laissait
Écrit en filigrane
Dans ma main qui se fane
Son portrait

Myckaël Marcovic, le 15 octobre 2021

Song written during Claude Lemesle's writing workshops. Theme: written on an autumn leaf.

These cries

The summer was running out of steam
To fall in the apples
In front of this autumn wind
Which froze
Oh! these cries, these cries...

The wind was stripping
The branches of a plane tree
When the leaves fade
With regret
And these cries, these cries...

On the ground trembled
The soul of one of her
Who, yet still beautiful
Called me
Still those cries...

I knelt down
Put her in my palm
As if on a throne
Nice and cozy
Still those cries...

Her veins traced
Diaphanous lines of life
Which, without appeal, condemn
The portrait
But these cries, these cries?

Lucid, she shouted
They were cries of autumn
Cracking, which are evading
For ever
No more cries, cries...

But she left
Written in watermark
In my fading hand
Her portrait

Myckaël Marcovic, October 15, 2021

Ces cris

A track from our upcoming album, X, due in mid 2023

The Dream within a Dream

Part two of last Lost....

Moog Grandmother
Moog Matriarch
Moog SupPhatty
Tanzbär (Drums)

LostTwo

Arctic soundscapes with a haunting yet warm voice full of emotions, this is how Inyha paints her inner emotional world where ice & snow covers the warmth of her heart, where walls of silence create distance, where mirrors of ice show her own disguise, while all she longs for is nearness and love. 

//

Written and recorded by Inyha

Inyha - Voice, Piano, Glockenspiel, Hang Drum & Synthesizers
Jimmy Deer - Mixing Engineer

// 

LYRICS:

It’s winter, it’s winter
The sun is covered in ice
I know that, I know that
I need to see the light
Sometimes I can
Feel so dark
And lost inside

Snowflakes dancing in the dark
But you are just as cold and hard
And I break inside for longing
To be near, to be near
Walls of silence hit me covered in ice
Mirroring my own disguise
And shaking me with fear
Of loosing you my dear

It’s winter, it’s winter
The sun is covered in ice
I know that, I know that
I need to see the light
Sometimes I can
Feel so dark
And lost inside

You can be the warmest sun
And the coldest ice and the strongest wind
Blowing in my eyes
Revealing all I hoped to hide
I don’t want to loose you
No I don’t want to loose you
For some stupid selfish pride
For another useless fight
I break inside

It’s winter, it’s winter
The sun is covered in ice
I know that, I know that
I need to see the light
Sometimes I can
Feel so dark
And lost inside

You are the sunshine and the rain
The snowfall and the hail
The ocean and the stream
Carrying me to my new self
Carrying me to my new self
And you mean so much to me
You mean so much
That sometimes I can’t hide
My pride, my stupid pride
I cannot hide

It’s winter, it’s winter
The sun is covered in ice
I know that, I know that
I need to see the light
Sometimes I can
Feel so dark
And lost inside

Snowflakes dancing in the dark
But you are just as cold and hard
And I break inside for longing
To be near, to be near
Walls of silence hit me covered in ice
Mirroring my own disguise
And shaking me with fear
Of loosing you my dear

It’s winter, it’s winter,
The sun is covered in ice
I know that, I know that
I need to see the light
But some day I know
Spring will come
And the ice will flow.

Snowflakes dancing in the dark

Snowflakes Dancing in the Dark

#piano #hanszimmer #cornfieldchase #interstellar

INTERSTELLAR ( Main Theme) | Hans Zimmer

Cinematic music inspired by Bernard Herrmann's work on Alfred Hitchcock's films

Forest of Fear

Translation above.

Texte et voix : Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel
www.facebook.com/jeanpaul.gaidodaniel
Accompagnement musical : Myckaël Marcovic

Arc-en ciel
Si c'était à recommencer, je voudrais être ce gamin qui court et qui danse sur les galets de la plage en dessous du trottoir de la promenade des Anglais à Nice-Ville. Ce gamin qui descend sur le chemin de l'école, son cartable à la main et ses billes arc-en-ciel dans ses poches, prêt à en découdre avec ses petits camarades dans la cour de l'école où toutes leurs richesses, toutes ces billes qui sautent et tombent tout autour des arbres de la cour du temps jadis, avec l'ami Coco. 
Si c'était à recommencer, à pas comptés, je claquerais le même chemin sur les pavés de ce vieux Nice ranssousse et plein de bruits bizarres sur ce marché multicolore, revoir Mireille, sa socca d'amour bien pébraté bien poivrée, servie d'un bon rosé bien frais. 
Si c'était à recommencer je dirais à tous mes camarades auteurs et compositeurs et bien d’autres encore, que je repartirais de nouveau pour un grand tour. Et roule ma sono sur les pavés gris-¬bleu au hasard de quelques allées embuées par ces buveurs de pastagas, cigarillos au bec qui se donneraient pour un quignon de soleil et quelques roses rouges sur des lèvres carnin. 
Si c'était à recommencer, je chanterais pour des caveaux de familles pour ces vieilles cancanières de bénitier, pour ce petit garçon qui sonnait les cloches de l'église et pissait avec ses copains dans les bénitiers d'eau de pluie. 
Oui Madame, oui Monsieur, je suis un coquin du Diable qui court encore comme Hopper sur le sable de San Pedro. Ce Hopper qui cherche d'où vient le vent de pluie.  
Si c'était à recommencer, donnez-moi un micro pour chanter vos chansons et les miennes z'aussi. 
Il ne faudra jamais parler de nos secrets, de nos poèmes de cœur, de nos amours cachées, de nos espoirs ratés.
On avait du talent, on était magnifique. Alors, moi le petit Niçois, je ne regrette rien ! 

Rainbow

If I had to do it all over again, I'd want to be that kid running and dancing on the pebbles of the beach below the sidewalk of the Promenade des Anglais in Nice-Ville. That kid on his way to school, his schoolbag in his hand and his rainbow marbles in his pockets, ready to do battle with his little friends in the school playground, where all their riches, all those marbles jumping and falling all around the trees in the playground of yesteryear, with friend Coco. 
If I had to do it all over again, I'd walk the same old path over the cobblestones of old Nice, full of strange noises and multicolored markets, and see Mireille again, with her peppery socca d'amour, served with a nice chilled rosé. 
If I had to do it all over again, I'd tell all my fellow songwriters and composers, and many others besides, that I'd go on another grand tour. And roll my sound system over the grey-blue cobblestones as I wander down a few aisles fogged by pastaga-drinkers, cigarillos in their mouths, who'd give it all up for a quignon of sunshine and a few red roses on carninous lips. 
If I had to do it all over again, I'd be singing for family vaults, for those old stoup gossipers, for that little boy who rang church bells and pissed in the rainwater stoup with his pals.
If you had to do it all over again, give me a microphone to sing your songs and mine too. 
We'll never have to talk about our secrets, our heartfelt poems, our hidden loves, our failed hopes.
We were talented, we were magnificent. So I, the little boy from Nice, regret nothing!

Arc-en-ciel (Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel / Myckaël Marcovic)

Deep Space 3

Downloads: https://analoguetrance.bandcamp.com

The world is sound and sound becomes music!

Sounds and music with analogue and virtual analogue synths and music machines by 

AnalogueTrance!




Inspired by BerlinSchool, especially by KlausSchulze and TangerineDream and a lot of other musicians ...

Trance? - listen: “TRANCE FORMATION” (by Eberhard Schöner)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2H_jJw3OZJA

LostTwo

AnalogueTrance

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