Name: "Aeon of alternatives" For Violoncello And Piano Mvt 2 by Bachianer
Duration: 7 min 33 s
Description: The second movement of a suite for violoncello and piano. Written in 2022 february. A meditative and dreamlike mood let me write this piece. A short escape away from the bad news, to get new trust in future.

Eccezionale davvero! Un livello irrangiungibile

beautifully poignant piece 😊👍🎶✨

wow, what a blend of beautiful sounds! 👏 bravo!

die Zukunft zu vertrauen...hmmm  mindestens es ist moglich zu weiter gehen mit Musik dieses qualitat

A very elegant and beautiful work, with fine orchestration!

Hard times, I hope you will forgive the lightness of touch. A big thank you to three magnificent earthlings who allow me to keep dreaming: https://soundcloud.com/janinelevinson, https://soundcloud.com/jonathan_beckenstein and Yaron Engler. 

https://youtu.be/gcvxFj4CPZY

Rocket fuel regular
Or rocket fuel light?
Said the Venusian
He was ever so polite

She said, give me regular
And lit a cigar
He knew straight away
That this girl was from Mars

No smoking in here
You’ll blow us all up
She said, give me ya phone number
And I might look you up

He went red
She remained green
Coz Martians and Venusians
Are like meat with ice cream

Meat with Ice Cream
Meat with Ice Cream

He went red
She remained green
But when you think about it
What’s wrong with meat with ice cream

He gave her his number
That’s  what they did
She gave hime a wink
And he fluttered his lids

Meat with Ice Cream
Meat with Ice Cream
He gave her his number
And a little while later they had green and red kids

Meat with Ice Cream
Meat with Ice Cream
Meat with Ice Cream
You know what I mean

Meat With Ice Cream

Meat With Ice Cream (feat. Janine Levinson & Jonathan Beckenstein)

“Castle Mind”

Run
Through the gardens
Of your mind
A castle guarded
Yet undefined
Your dearest fancies
Your secret friend

Here
Take your sword
It’s just a stick
But vastly more
With a little magic
All your own
You’re on your own
But not alone, never

Life will always be like this
Timeless, charming, childish bliss
Open-hearted mind-soul kiss

Search
The many worlds
That you contain
Imagination whirls
Over it you reign
A fearless knight
A noble, dashing swain

Dash
Shadowed figments
In your mind
The castle’s breached
But unresigned
You’re nearly grown
All up on your own
But not alone, never

Boredom befalls the idle mind
Fruitful soil out of time
Where I myself my self do find

Hold
To your vision
Beyond your walls
Nothing’s what it seems
No not at all
World growing real
Here comes the fall

Grasp
Fading images
From your sleep
Life’s laid you low
Now sleep’s your keep
All on your own
You’re on your own
And so alone, you never...

Imagined life would be like this
A bleak and unforgiving blitz
That cannot be dreamed over

- - -
Music by Corey Ball
Lyrics by August Lysy

Mastered by Spencer Martin

Castle Mind

One of Nature's sweetest fragrances, rain-washed air.  What a delight and honor to join Dan-DT, Clara, and Seagull in making this fragrant aural experience, and my maiden voyage into Dan's lovely genre of French Fantasy more of which can be heard @dan-t-3.  Seagull's lovely music can be heard here @farout-music-studio.

After The Rain  (Dan-DT, Clara, David, and Seagull)

There I was, diligently practicing my palm muted walking basslines when The Boys dropped by.

The practice session never stood a chance.

Here's a little homage to simpler times.
____________________________________________________________________

Neeps ‘n’ Tatties

Don’t need no haute cuisine, come dinner time.
A simple guy like me got simple tastes.
Don’t need no six course menu, sommelier’s fancy wine.
I’m happy drinking beer by the case.
The honest things in life are the ones that always shine,
So get your pan a-boilin’ babe, your neeps ‘n’ tatties do me fine.

Don’t need no fashionista plastic tik tok model girl
I love my honey baby, she always aims to please
Drivin’ me half crazy as she gives a little twirl
She’s muckin’ out the hogs in her muddy dungarees
Keep yer high fallutin’ “A” list, I’ll keep that sweet gal of mine.
Get your pan a-boilin’ babe, your neeps ‘n’ tatties do me fine.

……

Billionaires of tinsel sniffing venison carpaccio
Braised black cherry duck, meets Pol Roger
Praise the Lord I’m still connected to where I wanna go
Me and my sweet baby on our way, we’re headin’ there.
In our home of rustic truth we find pure living, love divine,
So get your pan a-boilin’ babe, your neeps ‘n’ tatties do me fine.

Neeps ‘n’ Tatties

WOMAN IN A BASKET

The second movement of a suite for violoncello and piano. Written in 2022 february. A meditative and dreamlike mood let me write this piece. A short escape away from the bad news, to get new trust in future.

"Aeon of alternatives" For Violoncello And Piano Mvt 2

La piste - The snow track by Roger Tastet 01/2023
Written with Notion 6, realized with Logic Pro

All with V.S.L except Choirs with Soundiron Requiem light

La Piste (Snow track)

you're wrapped up today, it's 9.10 am and -2 degrees, it's been snowing overnight, some a them's been there since before 6! you walk down familiar streets, almost drag yourself there, feeling empty of emotion and desire, ambivalence consumes your integrity,  running commentary conversations with yourself contain more contradictions and paradoxes than thought itself. Horns tooting as you pick up the pace on Coburg street, nearly there now, must show willing and a pulse of positivity. You see your uncle Derek walking the dog, he's not really your uncle, you're not too sure if that's really a dog, it is a dog though, it's jumping up at you, fuck! it's at eye level, big dog that Derek! You make a bit of small talk about the football, and the dog, there's nothing small about the dog. He doesn't agree with the strike, I should be offended, but I don't give a flying fuck, it's nice to see him, have a bit crak and even getting bulldozed by that beast of a dog didn't seem to bother me. See you then Derek, tell the family I was asking after them. Turns out I would see him on my stroll to the picket line a week later too.

Big turn out today, you're genuinely impressed and start to feel a pang of guilt that you're really not feeling it. Try to fit in, you're more like them than they are themselves, it should be a stroll in the park. You start to make conversations and mooch about a bit, you don't  see anyone that you're desperate to avoid. Gallows humour is gallowing in pride, ready to take a bite out of anyone that doesn't subscribe to their own gallant gallowness. Sharing a thought invigorates your being, you start to reminisce and replay memories of this place and anything within a 2 mile radius. Across the road there was the last place you had a proper conversation with your cousin Pirrie, he wasn't really your cousin, but it was really a conversation; not like in the hospital, that was just the odd grunt here and there, a movement or two. There's Sydney Court, your Aunty Jean lived there since the 60s or 50s?  she wasn't really your Aunty, but it was built, and she was your mams aunty, so that's pretty close. You feel a genuine appreciation for this area and the folk who dwell upon it, you dwell with them, Gateshead town, blood sweat synagogues and thieves. Walking round the picket line, soak it all up, retain it, when you get home wring it out. Group therapy plasters over the cracks, you feel so good that you self diagnose yourself with bi polar. Although time grinded it's heels towards the end, it was worth losing a day's pay, you'd pay more for a therapist, and you'd gotten a good idea for a song.

Sydney Court

my mood is changing like the weather
my spirit rising like the sea
and all the things that I once held and cherished
don't really matter that much to me

as I wander round old Gateshead town
blood sweat synagogues and thieves
I lost my cousin in the Metropole bar
his ankles hanging round his knees

there ain't a single thing
left around here no more
not even a photograph
of Sydney Court

my mind is like a patchwork dreambelt
I'm blowing hot air in then cold
for when did I become the man's 
worst nightmare
never believing what I'm told

and as I'm riding down the Sheriff's Highway
and I watch the old Tyne valley flow
getting lost on the Tuxedo Princes
man it all seemed so long ago

there ain't a single thing left around here no more
not even a photograph of Sydney Court

where did you go
where did you go

recorded at home in my 8 track, thanks for listening, very much appreciated 👍






Sydney Court

Join My Journey (Extended Version)

My last track for now, based on my "Myriad Love". I wish you a good time, stay creative, keep your head up...and always be kind to each other 🤗👍🙏
THANK YOU ALL!

C U 🥰🤗

DL free 😊❤️

Myriads Of Thanks To All My Friends | LOVE YOU ❤️

Le Crocodile - No.17 & No.18

Le Crocodile - No.17 & No.18 - Jules Massenet

All scores available.
Better with headphones.
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"Aeon of alternatives" For Violoncello And Piano Mvt 2

Bachianer

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