tribute to charles olson track, with andy miller (andy skeemax) guest vocals

Olsonmax

From an album of songs improvised and played on the Spitian khokpo (with other instruments)

My version is from an album of songs improvised and played on the Spitian khokpo (with other instruments). All those tracks are up here... and if you want them, just send me a message.

There is also a book of drawings, from my trip to Spiti:

https://jonciliberto.com/spiti

Old Manali

A track from an album of improvised and improvised/composed pieces initiated from the khokpo: a Tibetan banjo (called "dramyen" in Tibetan).

This track includes: Khokpo, Arturia Mircobrute synthesizer, TAL Elec7ro soft synth, e-percussion, field recordings from the Cham festival at Key Monastery, Roland Space-Echo RE-201.

My version is from an album of songs improvised and played on the Spitian khokpo (with other instruments). All those tracks are up here... and if you want them, just send me a message.

There is also a book of drawings, from my trip to Spiti:

https://jonciliberto.com/spiti

Streets Of Kaza

ROD cover

This is a cover of a Ladakhi song, "Ston gyi lu / Autumn". It appears on the LP "LADAKH : Songs & Dances from the Highlands of Western Tibet".

https://soundcloud.com/nickbarbery/01-ston-gyi-lu-autumn

My version is from an album of songs improvised and played on the Spitian khokpo (with other instruments). All those tracks are up here... and if you want them, just send me a message.

There is also a book of drawings, from my trip to Spiti:

https://jonciliberto.com/spiti

I wrote the English lyrics, arranged it, and played the instruments: khokpo (like a banjo), bulbul tarang (Hindi: बुलबुल तरंग literally “waves of nightingales” -- an autoharp), synthesizers, some simple electronic percussion, and questionable vocals.

LYRICS

Days getting shorter, birds queue in the blue.
Head south for winter, green foods become few.
 I had a message, should have sent it last week:
Last apricots, still a few to seek.

Warm days forever, impossible 
dreams of burrowing creatures swaddled in fur
Fruit lasts forever in candified peel,
but heat travels fast when you know what to feel.

Brooks become frigid, water glances through
ice covered windows, sparkling as a few
late ripened apples fall upon the ground
under dark shadows, echoing the sound.

When death is certain, it will be the day
to throw off the garments of summertime play.
One time she said, "Ain't the weather so fine?"
But that has happened since 1969.

Down from the mountains the animals return
to stay in the stables, wood piled to burn.
I met a fairy, told me not to wait
Look at the moon and never hesitate.

Her voice said clearly, "this will come again."
Just like the orbit 'round Earth's meridian.
A drying leaf clings to a thread up there,
While a season's transition hangs in the air.

Olsonmax

Egg Tooth