Bubble Love

https://youtu.be/dLLddlqKIHc?si=wT5hmEY_W3Fp5ZvI 

This is my attempt at performing this song in a single take with just me and my guitar (Taylor 114 ce)
Also to compare and contrast, here’s a  link to a more polished full band version of this song that I recorded with the help of the Eclectic Collective 
https://soundcloud.com/josh-clary-1/ai-sucks-the-eclectic?si=67d29d363d2a419dacbf860fa471165e&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
Many thanks to SoundCloud musician Michele Ansani  https://on.soundcloud.com/A24Cig19AVNqQmCk8 who's lyrics inspired me to write this song and collaborated with me to help bring this song to life.
***
Lyrics
When I was thirteen I picked up my first guitar
it was my mother's, it only had one nylon string 
I tried to play it like a rock star
I learned to play the Coca-Cola jingle
So I could teach the world to sing
When I was fourteen, I put on six new strings
I learned to play Beatles, I learned a Bob Dylan song
I sounded out of tune but I tried to carry on
At fifteen I wrote my first original tune 
So bad it sounded like it might have been written by a baboon
When I was sixteen, I got a new guitar for my birthday
The metal strings sawed through my fingers but I continued to play
And as the calluses formed and every day I learned a brand new chord
I was obsessed with that guitar and I never grew bored.
I wrote songs every day and most of them were a mess
But I believed that through hard work, I could achieve success
Malcom Gladwell wrote a book that said it takes ten thousand hours
To become and expert at your craft
And now all it takes is two commands and an enter
And in two minutes you have ten versions of the same damn new song,
You just have to choose the type
folk, rock, rap, pop, metal, jazz, trap or blues.
You don't even need to write the lyrics, 
your push a few buttons let the AI choose.
And people will think your songs are great 
even though you didn’t write or play a single note.
When I was 20, I did my first concert, it was time
it occurred in a village square
there were four cats all friends of mine
I was still using the plectrum and sometimes I got the chords wrong
at thirty I finally wrote what I thought was a decent song
It had a very well thought out structure and a catchy vibe and beat 
It was overly verbose but when I played it people tapped their feet
In my forties I stopped wasting my time
Work was more fun I was doing just fine
I had a steady paycheck that could feed me 
And the record companies didn’t need me
In my fifties once again my musical juices started flowing
I bought the necessary equipment I was eager to get going
I recorded all my strumming and saved it onto my PC
The internet and technology were advancing rapidly
I took those special songs I’d written of which I was most proud
Posted them Instagram, You Tube, Tik Tok and SoundCloud
I asked myself if a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around
Does it make a sound?
But now all it takes is two commands and an enter
And in two minutes you have ten versions of the same damn new song,
You just have to choose the type
folk, rock, rap, pop, metal, jazz, trap or blues.
You don't even need to write the lyrics, 
your push a few buttons let the AI choose.
And people will like your songs even though you didn’t write or play a single note.

AI Sucks Acoustic Live Version

"Whatever"is an '80s-style rock song. It talks about the world of disposable and temporary things we live in, where nothing lasts long enough to become real. Friendships, relationships, love — everything is plastic and fleeting. A time without memories.

Whatever (Tanto Faz)

It’s just like that, the way I recall,
Blurred-out words, nothing real at all.
I hit the street, but I’m not there,
Can’t see you — green or red, I don’t care.
I walk ahead, try not to glance behind,
Where I go, you don’t cross my mind — that’s fine.
What’s gone is gone, it won’t return,
The future waits, no need to burn.
It’s gone, it’s done — no more glory,
The fire wipes out every story.
Time just moves, it won’t relent,
Chasing wins, it kills the present.
And memory? It fades, it dies,
Just disappears before your eyes.

++++++++++PORTUGUES

Tanto faz é um rock estilo anos 80. Fala sobre o mundo de coisas descartáveis e temporarias em que vivemos, onde nada dura tempo suficiente para se tornar verdadeiro. Amizades, relacionamentos, amores...tudo é plastico e passageiro. Um tempo sem memórias.

Tanto Faz

É bem por ai, é como eu me lembro;
Palavras difusas, tudo fake;
Descubro a rua e não me vejo;
Não te enxergo, verde ou vermelho;
Sigo em frente sempre tento não olhar pra trás;
Pra onde ando não te percebo, tanto faz;
O que passou, passou. Não volta jamais;
O futuro te espera, fica em paz;
Passou, passou, não tem mais glória.
O fogo varre toda a história.
O tempo sempre segue em frente, buscando a vitória despreza o presente.
A memória se diluí, se desfaz.

Whatever (Tanto Faz)

Le Rêveur

Music : Janne Hennie & Little Man
Lyrics & vocals : Janne Hennie

Every time I came to visit
You danced around my feet
Made happy noises, barked a song
Lots of cuddles, lots of love

You are my friend, like a brother to me
We could talk, have long good walks
Always faithful, with trust in us
So much comfort in my mothers dog

But now you're tired, you need to rest
I know you did you're very best
I will carry you on our last walk
My little brother, my mothers dog

If I was sad, you licked my hand
could always sense and understand
Whenever something was bad or wrong
You were there, your presence so strong

Take a rest now, my brother, my friend
I'm pretty sure I'll meet you again
Then we'll take a long good walk
Lots of cuddles, lots of love

But now you're tired, you need to rest
I know you did you're very best
I will carry you on our last walk
My little brother, my mothers dog

My Mothers Dog

Find Seagull's brilliant music here: @farout-music-studio

Find David's sublime guitar work here: @david-dunhamuser589535203
_______________________________________________________________________________

You know, don't you?  Oh, yes you do.  
You know you're being monitored, observed, assessed by something that knows you intimately.  
Knows you better than you’d like to think.  
Your secondary semi-subconscious once-removed.  
That's why you talk to yourself - or pretend to.  
Admit it - you're not really you, at all, are you?  
In fact, you're not real, are you?  You are watching “you”.  
You are nothing but your alter ego's doppelganger temporarily encased in a piece of warm, wet meat.  
A transient instantiation of a mirrored reflection of some lump of sentience from precisely one, of an infinite number of parallel universes.  

It’s called “conscience”.  

Handle with care.  

You were gifted it for a reason.
_________________________________________________________________________________

"…..Neatly packaged, all my doubts, the rationales and bellyaches,
Wracked without, passion in thrall to humanity's handicap diamond stakes…."
_________________________________________________________________________________

Ghost of a Sense

Yes, I know you.
I can feel your presence.
I can touch you, smell you.
I see you not by sight of eye
And yet I ken that you are I
That vespered wraith that writhes within
To test my faith, try my sin
Push the bounds to cause offence
A moral, soul thing, ghost of a sense recalls myself, so well defined
Entrenched, walls behind, built so sound of dust that crowned the pity, falling soft amiss, 
Deep inside the tears I cry as here I find my self-abyss.

Whispers bringing shadows, filled of secrets therein held,
Memories, morose, piece me still, to wear in time, my wasted face.
And now reside, cast aside, to forge and ever meld,
Of haunting, ringing echoes, that will alone their chime erased.

Ah! But you won't twist me, nor bind me fast, to the sandy doctrines of the misty past, 
With its beards and staffs and crinkled testaments.
My future's sprinkled here present with your crass irrelevance and matters not that sat right there, 
The blackest chasm in my simpling world so spare, 
Where space and time have overspilled the leaking psyche of a crippled mind,
That barely copes, unfulfilled, a crooked, limpid moral health of broken shrines
That hopes to find ....
   .......some worthwhile inner self.
___________________________________________________________________________________

Photo by Marten Newhall on Unsplash

Ghost of a Sense ... with Seagull and David Dunham

Fly Away (Jam Session) with Martin Jansen

A warrior that wanted to study the knowledge instead of fighting

The warrior (2009)

A new version of my latest track with some added vox and guitar. 

Also updated the mix a bit. I hope this is progressing in the right direction.

Please feel free to leave a comment as your feedback is valuable to me.

Mediation

Hey… Thanks for dropping by. As a young boy, around sixty years ago, I used to like to listen to old people as they rambled on with stories about their lives. I really enjoyed those stories. I am an old man now, and I tend to ramble on, as well. This song is about that…. as I wake up to a chilly autumn morning. I have been busy ‘buttoning things up’ for winter. Collecting seeds, preparing garden beds, raking leaves, moving stuff inside, winterizing my home, getting winter gear ready, and other such sundry tasks, some of which I had forgotten about, like filling a tub with gardening soil and compost for planting seeds next spring. So I put the tub right by my front door. Ha. I have mixed feelings about heading into another long mountain winter. Throw old age into the mix and boy, am I having fun. I have also been sitting outside quietly, as flocks of birds fly by. Some flocks temporarily stop here to rest and feed, before winging off. It is fascinating to watch the dynamics of the flocks and how different kinds of birds interact. There are high flying geese, cranes and ducks overhead as well. All those birds are vocal, and when I am outside working, I tend to whistle along with them. They don’t seem to mind. The relative harmonious balance of it all is so refreshing to watch. Although a robin, or two, in the mountain ash always seems to be chasing other robins away from the berry laden tree. There are more berries in that tree than all those robins could ever eat, and I watch as the chased away robins sneak back into the tree. Some older birds die here in the yard, as they are no longer up for the long migration ahead. Sad to see. I often find one or two of them, dead each year, huddled peacefully in the deep grass, or hidden elsewhere. It has also snowed several times here in October… Hope you’re doing well. Mark  

Autumnal Ramblings Of An Old Man

Thank you very much as always Stina and we thank you for taking the time to listen!

Please visit Stina's page here: https://soundcloud.com/user-589793370

Stina: Vocals, Lyrics, Bass, Piano, Art
Me: Guitar

"While You Slept"

Its getting dark while I was sleeping
Its getting cold while I was freezing
Its getting dark while I was thinking
Its getting closer every day and night...

Cause I've been away
Cause I'm not here
Cause its been a while, a while since I cried
So its getting closer...

So its been a while since I slept
So its been a while since its was dark
So its been a while since I cried
Its been a while since you left...

Cause I've been away
Cause I'm not here
Cause its been a while, a while since I cried

Its getting dark while I was sleeping
Its getting cold while I was freezing
Its getting dark while I was thinking
Its getting closer every day and night...

cause its been a while...
its been a while since I cried
....cause its been a while

While You Slept    (with Stina of Creation)

Welcome to my page. I am a multi-instrumentalist and this is where I post my original works and works with others. Thank you for your visit!

While You Slept (with Stina of Creation)

Donald Bell