Bouncy, catchy, upbeat pop ska track.

From the forthcoming musical Gloria https://gloriathemusical.com/ 

The song is sung by Gloria and George. Gloria flees from George's home when his family turn on her. George finds Gloria in the Green Oaks. They’ll ignore what they (the haters) say. Cos it's cool to be you!

11 Cool To Be You

From the forthcoming musical Gloria gloriathemusical.com/

George's life is so shit, his boss is an actual robot - Robot Rob.

04 Robot Rob

06 Things

Victim Surrender

Samadhi - Dark Morning

Samadhi Play - Centrepiece
Multi-layered voice harmonies
Synth twinkles

Samadhi - Ever Present

Samadhi - Dark At Dusk

Chow For The Koi Theme

Tech House from Psycho Thriller Sound Movie Chow for the Koi
www.chowforthekoi.com

People Like Jay - Chow for the Koi - What? Mix

People Like Jay (Chow For The Koi) What? Mix

Moroccan flavoured instrumental

Made for my friend Quintina Valero who takes beautiful photographs around the world.   Quintina has taken photos of a surf school in Southern Morocco - to be published soon.

Here is some of here work https://quintinavalero.photoshelter.com/gallery-list

Agadir

Supahero

Safe

Firefly - Goddess

Spoken word story
Set to ambient piano, beat and pad.

Here's the story:

On a crisp spring morning.  A light breeze blew and fluffy clouds flew across the sky.

All of a sudden we noticed a bird in the garden.  We didn’t know where it came from, it just appeared.  We saw it sitting among the daffodils.  We said it must have dropped from heaven. 

A tiny bird it was - perfectly formed and shining brightly.  We stared at it in wonder.  As we looked closer we saw its feathers were made of gold and crafted with great skill.  The lacing on its wings was so intricate the twists and turns seemed never-ending.

The bird hopped around and tweeted in its high voice, happy to be alive.  Yet with it’s little frame and feet it was so delicate you could have taken it in your hand and crushed it in an instant.  As it jumped about we marvelled at the joy it brought.

It was precious but something that might last for decades, a lifetime even - if it was cared for.  It was made of gold and gold can only be made when a star explodes.  It is a parting gift when life has become too heavy for itself.

In the mornings when we woke we would hear the bird singing its soaring melodies as if calling us to celebrate the new day.  In the hot sun it would flutter among the flowers.  When it rained the bird would shake its body and send bright droplets flying through the air.  At evening time it lowered its voice and sang in a plaintive mood as if mourning the passing of the sun.

We fed it all manner of delicacies.  We stroked its plumage and it nuzzled its yellow beak against us for warmth and company.  As the weeks went by and with our care it grew in size and strength.  We took it into our hearts.

Though young, the bird knew many songs.  It sang of beauty, of joy.  It sang of the journey that lies ahead.  By carefully repeating the phrases it let us learn the songs and we sang them together.  Those were the happiest days of my life.

As we went on through the year - and the year went on through us - we became busy.  Busy with the future, busy with the past.  The time that you have and the time that you don’t have.  The choices you make and how those choices stay with you.  The things that you look at too long and when you finally turn away, something important has gone.

Autumn came.  The sky turned grey and the trees let their leaves fall.  We had less time for the garden.  We would still hear the bird calling and singing to itself.  But now it sang songs of solitude, songs of loss.  It sang of the hurt and suffering in the world.  Our garden had become a place of sadness and we went there no more.

The winter winds blew in and the garden grew cold.  We still heard the bird singing once in a while but its voice faltered and was cracked with sorrow.  One day the garden fell silent and the bird sang no more.

Through the dark of that long winter we forgot all about the bird, as if it had flown from our hearts.

When the spring finally came again we went out into the garden.  The sun shone on the daffodils and we remembered the golden bird.  We looked for it.  We called for it.  But the bird had gone.  

We tried to sing the songs the bird had taught us.  But we could not - we had left them too long to remember them.  The garden became dull and lifeless and we stopped going there.  Soon after that you went away.

Now as I sit in the garden I wonder what happened to our golden bird.  

Perhaps it was lonely.  

Perhaps it went looking for someone to sing with.   

Perhaps you will find it.

I hope so.

Coxy

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