Haven't heard this before! I love the picking!

Cool sound.  Feels late 60's, almost British.

Love the acoustic sound from South African Ron

Great with deep songs 🎶❕ And the sharp guitar playing is cool 🎸✨🎶

each song quite different and interresting. very good singing just not sure if the same singer in other songs..

I love ya bud. goddamn you Dreadful J. Fouglas

Music by Daniel Gómez & Val Akey.
All guitars (leads, rhythms, bass) played by Daniel Gómez. @danielgoram
Drums and keyboards programming / mixing and mastering by Val Akey. @valakey
Release date: 23 March 2021

The Call Of The Priests

There is good and evil in each of us. We see this every day, looking inside ourselves, into our heart, into our soul, into our inner mirrors. Sometimes we see good there, but sometimes evil.  I want to dedicate this track to all the good people who gave their lives in this eternal war. In a sense, this track is a requiem for the passing World, as I knew it.

Inner Mirrors

I’m honoured to take part in a fifth collaboration with the amazing Torbjørn and Jimmy. A development of a Torbjørn demo, this one is a straightforward, no nonsense rocker, play it loud.

Credits:-

Torbjørn:- Musical composition, Hammond Organ, Organ, String Synth, Bass, Drums, Percussion. https://soundcloud.com/tobbenv

Jimmy:- Lyrics, Vocal composition, Vocals. https://soundcloud.com/j-rivas

Dairv:- Guitars, Production, Mix, Mastering, Cover Art.

Mean Streets (Torbjørn Vagle  - Jimmy Rivas - Dairv Dubbleyew)

"We Got The Power"

Lyrics & Vocals : Special Cecilia
Music & Mix : EMmy

To listen to Cecilia's music on SC :
@specialececilia
@spacialcecilia

On Bandcamp : specialcecilia.bandcamp.com/

We Got The Power - Special Cecilia & EMmy

This one is something I've been playing over and over for months, never really having any definite lyrics, just all subconscious meandering, never wrote a word down, a little different to my usual process. 

lyrics 

All men are strangers to the touch
one femme fatale with the golden locks
I'm done with hesitating knockout!
debilitating
just show me that you really care

I know it's hard loving one man
but you must do all the best that you can
I'm done with hesitating knockout!
debilitating
just show me that you really care

I know that the word is out
all over town
they only pick you up
right before
when they're knocking you to the ground

cu me ce va I heard him saying
but I don't care for the game that you're playing
I'm done with hesitating knockout!
debilitating
just show me that you really care

I know that the word is out
all over town
they only pick you up
right before
when they're knocking you to the ground

I know that In life is strange
stuck on the inside of a hurricane
and there I will remain 

Thanks for listening and inspiring folks, always greatly appreciated 🙏✌️

The Word Is Out

Flint Banjo Club

What started as a handful of selfdescribed “banjo nuts” getting together to play after a rough winter in 1967 became a band with more than 50 members

The Flint Banjo Club, is considered one of the best banjo and old time music clubs in the United States. They established a tradition in holding their annual Banjorama, the FBCs primary fundraiser

The club was founded in April 1967 by six banjo enthusiasts from Flint Michigan back when American manufacturing was prosperous and thriving union jobs allowed for workers to retire with pensions, healthcare, and social stability 

“…no doubt as a result of cabin fever resulting from the preceding relentless winter,” wrote C.O. Johnson, one of the original six founders, who was is still strumming away with the ensemble in 2014

The FBC collected a number of awards. Members had diverse professional backgrounds and most were retired. The club performed across the country, in concert at prestigious halls including the Whiting, as well as hospitals, schools and senior homes. The club has raised more than $50,000 for community projects and in particular, scholarships administered by Mott Community College

Since 1974, the annual “Banjorama” featured a variety of banjo and non-banjo old time entertainment

Flint Banjo Club - The Happy Sounds Of The Flint Banjo Club album cover
Genre:	Folk, World, & Country	
Year:	1978
Track list:
-Alabama Jubilee And Waiting For The Robert E. Lee Medley
-Five Foot Two	
-Sweet Georgia Brown	
-Carolina In The Morning	
-Nobody's Sweetheart, Now	
-Bye Bye Blues	
-Bill Bailey, Won't You Please Come Home	
-The World Is Waiting For The Sunrise	
-Whispering	
-The Pennsylvania Polka	
-A Shanty In Old Shanty Town	
-Battle Hymn Of The Republic	
-Coney Island Washboard	

In Davison town, gold was found,
A banjo club with a joyful sound,
With strings that twang and fingers that fly,
The Flint Banjo Club's tunes filled the sky

For over 50 years, they strummed and played,
Their passion for banjos never did fade,
From six enthusiasts, the club has grown,
To more than 50, a band of their own

Their Banjorama, a yearly delight,
A fundraiser held through the night,
With Picks and Sticks and Mel Collie too,
An evening of music, for me and you

With diverse members and awards galore,
The Flint Banjo Club has a history to adore,
They've raised funds and brought joy,
To many communities, girl and boy

So come one, come all, to Davison town,
And hear the music that won't let you down,
For in the Flint Banjo Club, there's gold to be found,
A treasure of sound, that will astound

https://youtu.be/lGN86Z6QEeU

https://youtu.be/MZ9xl4mdabQ

JTS

GOLD IN THEM HILLS

Gold In Them Hills

self examination

I am ME, and I am You-min. Anything else within these two lines is simply... All Good. 

Making up boxes, no matter how one frames it, is just prop-a-gating the same ole' divisive cracks under a fresh coat of bad faith-paint. So stop marking up tribal bounds, and instead, let's all BOND within the only Spectrum that should really matter: this gorgeous You-n-I-verse that we all share.

****************************************************  
LYRICS

How do you grope about
with eyes popped wide when there's no view 
of what stretches behind the salt suss-pression of 
your sticky-sweater skin?

Do fingers ball up, full exploratory-like
Flail away in fistfuls
Fuzzy flurry of Punch & Ply
Do digits dance delicate 'twixt the dunes
to dowse what fiery diary swells within?

***

Why do we trope around
Big Lies plopped down wide open, peer-review
a spectrum skew molded by-the-bi trap within?

Genitalia vibrant stroke impressions
Hexadex or Binary, veiled hue expression
'Box be box' in spite of facets or dimension --
it still walls us in...

***

What makes a fellah-fellah
...stakes a sistah-sistah
...slakes a mallow-yellow
...wakes a mistah
Whoda howda whyda focus on special 
kindsa tribal lines and gloves?

What fakes a feelah-feelah
...cakes a mistah-sistah
...shakes a twistah-listah
...breaks a blistah
why wouldn't ya want an all-encompassing 
kinda it's-all-good full life to love?

***

Why do the hokey-pocus
...lose the larger focus
...choose the lie that chokes us
...rue the roost with spose-dahs?

You R you N you Are you-min
time to toss the tribes
and share one

LOVE

****************************************************

Gro(w)ping Thru The F(l)og

I think I’m Broken(Instrumental)

For Allen G. Bailey Man you were good. https://soundcloud.com/agbailey
Huge thanks to Phil McWalter,  https://soundcloud.com/phil-mcwalter , for adding the perfect touch!

lyrics;
Allen plays his old guitar
he plays his latest tune
The six strings sing and do their dance
beneath a Scottish moon
It's a world his own, where everyone belongs
Allen writes the music we love to hear his songs

Allen plays his old guitar
and sings about the west.
Coyboys, Trains and "Say Whens Bar"
and "Billy" just the best
A world all his own, where everyone belongs
Allen writes the music
We love the hear the songs

Stepped into the clouds with music left to share
Heaven's where the Angels sing, you'll find his music there

Patiently waits his old guitar
That sweetly played his favorite tunes.
And six strings sang and did their dance
Beneath the Scottish moon

In a world all his own, where everyone belonges
Allen wrote the music, we love to hear the songs

Allen (Additional Production by Phil McWalter!)

A nostalgic ten-year old recording under the different project name “Gloomgrass.”

Dred Fouglas: Guitars, Vox/Lyrics
Early Gancrowl: Droomz


Lyrics:

You have gone insane
dripping wet out in the rain
Upside down in your head
Nothing is as it seems
I cannot understand
what it is you’re trying to plan
You never take off the mask,
so you must not have a face

Bloodsucker, what’s that you’re holding?
His heart, molded, but glowing
And do you feel alright 
cramming your mouth full of spite?

Some days never pass
Your spell is always cast
You snap those filthy fingers,
then you get fed by the grapevine
Prance around from door to door
An emotionless, lifeless whore 
Hey, what’s wrong with your head?
You can’t think straight 
‘cause you’re already dead
Yeah, your soul is already dead

Bloodsucker, what’s that you’re holding?
His heart, molded, but glowing
And do you feel alright
cramming your mouth?
Bloodsucker, what’s that you’re feeling?
Pain from your deceiving
And do you have it in you
to take a damn step near my room?

Your selfish, shallow heart always filtered out the good
You should have known, you should have known
what would lie afoot
You’ve carved your insides out, 
so now you look for food
But no one comes and no one will
You’ll be all alone

Bloodsucker

Inexplicably the man know as Dred Fouglas was born in the year 1913 to two women. In some strange way, they both gave birth to each half of his body. He was rightfully left in the woods at birth. In 1917 he was first documented crafting a stringed instrument from bailing twine and shovels. Feared by the town, he was persecuted and declared a "sheehogue" and a "vargulf" despite having 1 confirmed kill against a werewolf.  He fled the town to become an extra in the Roman Polanski film "Rosemary's Baby". Several years later he read from the Naturom Demonto in East Tennessee and began writing songs that are responsible for at least 13 killings. He now resides with his wife and 24 children in the suburbs of Port Banguss, Maine, smoking his pipe and writing gloomy music is his mildewy garage.

Bloodsucker

Dred Fouglas

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