This song has been rolling around in my back pocket for about 30 years. I simply hadn't gotten around to putting down to DAW. I liked the pumping, slightly frenetic guitar loop in the Electric Mint pack (Wild Horses) for Metapop's Produce This #164 competition and thought why not now?

[Rob-E] ANOMOLY

Nova

a song about unrequited love and teenage crushes

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Waking up in my hotel room
200 miles back to you
My head feels like porcelain
Keep me for best put me back when you're through

But I believe in possibilities
Just hope that my aim is true

I'm taking my time
I'm protecting what's mine
And what's left of my fragile heart
I'm leaving no trace
And I'm keeping the faith
Before this pulls me apart

Pulls apart
Pulls apart

Staring across this ballroom
300 miles over to you
Giving up to start again
I'll wait for my flowers to bloom

But I believe in possibilities
Just hope that my aim is true

I'm taking my time
I'm protecting what's mine
And what's left of my fragile heart
I'm leaving no trace
And I'm keeping the faith
Before this pulls me apart

Pulls apart
Pulls apart

Porcelain (feat. Cecilee)

A song about longing and obsession in the age of social media. About falling in love with someone through a screen. Someone who may or may not be real

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I can hear the sound of dreams
The cigarettes and faded blue jeans
The photographs and played back scenes
Never knowing what they mean

I can see your days collides
The indecision codified
The fantasies and rising tide
History happens in real time

ooh ooh ooh

You could be my daydream
My landslide, my slipstream
My devil chasing moonbeams
Intention lost to the mainstream

I could be your joyride
Your agent on the outside
Your lowest low and highest tide
Watch as I revert to type

ooh ooh ooh

Daydreams And Algorithms

Celtic Dreams

https://myckalmarcovic.bandcamp.com/track/arc-en-ciel
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)

Ellesmera prod. and composed by Nomax

We shouldn't have to fight.
The piles of skulls must show it.
Who cares who's really right?
Nobody really knows it.
The road out of this place.
Littered with bones like you and me.
The dreams that floated high.
Same as dreams that sink to ground.

This is a road to nowhere.
It's all a route to now.

A spaceman in the clouds,
knows that he matters nought.
A twinkling in the eye.
Your time has come around.
The bell tolls out for thee.
The bells keep ringing out.
The cowboys and the cows.
Are dust to blow around...,

This is a road to nowhere.
It's all a route to now.
We're all on a road to nowhere.
There isn't even hell.

I don't think on the world,
When I'm no longer in it.
and if I try to think on death.
I just can't see much in it.
I do not think of frying pans,
somebody making love to you,
I do not sit and think and about.
All the people waiting to die.

This is a road to nowhere.
It's all a route to now.
We're all on a road to nowhere.
There isn't even hell.

A Road To Nowhere

Coming soon! We pretend to be fine.
There's a fire in the wastelands. What's mine?
Waste of time.
There's a fire.
We Survive.

There's a crack in the side of the farm.
You would think that they'd run, but they stay.
Waste the light.
Avoid the night.
Stay alive. 

There's a river that's flowing with gold.
That you get, when you're good, if you're old.
Waste of life.
Taste the Night.
Stoke the fire.

All of her maybes, mistaken for definitelys.
All you can do is move on.
All of your sure things, replaced now with possiblys.
You've got no crutch to lean on.

All of his don't knows, revealed to be so lows 
That you didn't see where they came from.
All of the can does, are hollow lists of to does.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

There's a message we sent to the sky.
Imagine that won't be getting too far.
Trip the wire.
To the stars.
To the stars.

There's a man on the moon, and he's heating a Spoon.
As he looks sadly down on the earth.
There's a cow.
What's that now?
Holy cow.

Wee Willie runs through the town.
Crying loud as he seeks them all out.
Get to bed.
In your head.
Go to bed.

All you've got left are some rust, cans of peaches.
A pile of old vizzes and porn.
A fray bentos pie and your rosy complexion.
There's no one left you rely on. 

A bust of Beethoven, a packet of suet.
A commemorative plate, a Princess Di coin.
An overfilled ashtray, a battered red jumper.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

All of her maybes, mistaken for definitelys.
All you can do is move on.
All of your sure things, replaced now with possiblys.
You've got no crutch to lean on.

All of his don't knows, revealed to be so lows 
That you didn't see where they came from.
All of the can does, are hollow lists of to does.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

Interstellar... Toodle-oo

I Got You On My Mind

(This is dedicated to my Step-Dad and to his battle with dementia.  It’s a song about time, how things are constantly changing, and yet, when you look in the mirror, there you are, and yet the decay, the age, mistakes and wisdom, one can hope, at the end of the day, no matter what has been had, what has been lost, you will have at least one thing, even if just a hand full, of beautiful memories…of people, pain, loss, love, hope, and everything in between.  Yet, for some, the curse is to look in the mirror and have nothing, to have lost it all, that sense of fear, grief, and frustration..  my step dad lost everyone in the end.  There were only two people he recognized.  My Mom and I - a blessing I will always be grateful to have had).  He was a beautiful man and this song, in all the irony of the lyrics, is for him.  

Verse
Was a time, a time to play, time to pray
All that time, what a waste, what a pity, oh fool, shake my walls, blow me down.

Just a face, unaware, just another day.
Just a phase, all we had, it’s a crime
oh pity, oh fool, mind your head when you fall 

Chorus 
But oh, one thing keeps coming back
I got you on my mind

Verse
In the dark, in the back, what a way to live, you a dance I could never forget, oh pity oh fool, tell me who I see now so

Like a dream, but nightmares are dreams too, in my head, but my mind I stilI find you, oh pity, oh fool, take my hand lead me out 

Chorus
But oh, one thing keeps coming back
I got you on my mind

Not a game, never same, we all fade away, but these tricks, it’s so hard to find you, oh pity oh fool, seems all is lost now

In the end, through the tears and the madness, find a smile as you echo among us, oh pity of fool, are you here with me now.  

Chorus 
But oh, one thing keeps coming back
I got you on my mind

Personal Earthquakes

I've Got You On My Mind

I've Got You On My Mind (Ballad for Joe)

BIPOLAR MAN

Eleanor Collides is the solo project of UK singer-songwriter Nick Ranga.  

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Named after Nick’s childhood imaginary friend, Eleanor Collides started life as a lockdown project in March of 2021 when a group of London based musicians got together to support each other in writing, recording and releasing music. Named The MusiCollective, this group has produced acts such as Pisgah, Colin Tyler, Corporate Drone and Lucoline

'People Are Taller in Real Life',  the debut album by Eleanor Collides, falls somewhere between Indie, Alternative Rock and Dream Pop. On this album Nick draws on a wide range of influences from the 90s alt-rock of Alice In Chains and Hole, British Indie bands such as Manic Street Preachers and Depeche Mode's moody synth pop