World Gone Wild

World Gone Wild - Remastered

Sometimes

# 3 [Tribal song]

The delicate phrases and melodies of the piano folded over each other like deep falling snow.

Snow Waves

A song about futility

LYRICS:

Soon is not soon enough
and the promise of help
is just dust on the shelf
Bloom in a greenhouse alone
Nowhere is home
You're longing to roam on the grass on the loam

Moved by a picture of sand
Unfamiliar land
you held in your had
Soothed by the breath of the day
A permanent haze
A shroud on the face of the ones you replaced

You went along with the plans 'til the end
You finished your book and you lost all your friends
We talked and we talked but we never got near
the reasons behind why you ended up here

Reasons

**** By now you understand what the Reimgaed part means!!!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYBODY!!!

All Music by me.

Image by Devoka (Pixabay)

Special thanks to Kahlan Davis and Dani Ford.

Prom Night

Oh, don't try that bullshit with me, my dear.
Or I'll be giving you a wave.
Your fantasies are growing out of hand.
Just one more on my list to save.

I'm the one that showed you all the secret ways.
Paths to avoid; how to behave.
You've taken all these gifts that I bestowed on you.
Turned them to something in your brain.

Oh, c'est la vie.
You say to me.
Because we're only here once.
You don't follow.
Advice (to) say no.
Your first reaction is to plunge.

The path to twisted logic is not paved with gold.
The years of struggle take their toll.
Although I don't excuse the things you've done.
It's hard to dig out of a hole.

A story in your mind is not the same as truth.
A fort that's built on shifting sands.
The tide of time came in and cut you off.
Its waters covered up your lands.

Oh, c'est la vie.
You say to me.
This is the only chance we get.
(I) don't want to know.
Your problems, though.
And no one's giving you a gett.

A shout from afar.
There's a message you're missing. 
There's are signs coming up.
You should read.
Their letters unopened.
Their warnings unheaded.
In the absence of reason.
You can't breathe.

This is a final reminder.
A notice they're serving.
An advertising campaign on TV. (x2)
The path that you're on.
It's the wrong road you've taken.
The deadly silence in between.
This is the silence in between.

Oh, don't give me that nonsense there's beauty in truth.
You beat the fuckers to the punch.
I've always been a cynic I worry too much.
Won't always get you a free lunch. 

Your mother always told you "we don't hold a grudge".
But, you can't seem to let it go.
She doesn't know you cos you hide it all so well.
Select few people in the know.

Oh, c'est la vie.
Live fast and free?
Only the foolish that stay young.
Forever goes, on through the snow.
You're best placed if you are amongst.
Oh, c'est la vie.
You say to me.
"Will they forgive me in the end?"
Before I go.
A sign to show.
There's certain things that you can't mend.

Caught in the middle.
A crook and a fork in the road.
You took what you wanted.
And never thought to give back some.
To all the people who helped you to make your way up.
All the things that you did trying to make sure that they would say.
"You're okay".
You used your advantage to pull the wool over her eyes.
Never imagining we could see straight through your straight through your lies.
The depths that you'd sink to.
Just to appear to be sound.
It got to the point when nobody wanted you around.
In the town.
A drink in the morning to stop you from wretching means nowt.
It's better to keep it all in than to let all out.
Nobody wants to hear about your childhood you know.
If you won't move on from it, then you won't have any room to grow.
All for show.

Oh, don't you tell me c'est la vie.
When you don't practice what you preach.

A chat with the neighbours upon whom you always impress.
Exacting credentials, oh, you wear your heart on your chest.
"Don't listen to anything anyone says about me".
You say with a grin as you walk to the shop for your beers.
"I'll say cheers"
Nobody's saying that you had it easy you know.
But that doesn't mean that you can just be a bastard and go.
Off on a tangent on any vaguely similar theme.
That makes you look brilliant at least in your mind as you scheme.
In your dreams.

Oh, don't you tell me c'est la vie.
When you don't practice what you preach. [x2]

It's the bitterness seeping out of you in a giant cloud.
What a clown.

It's been so long that it really isn't the same in this town.
In fact things are better now that you are never around.
Like a bad smell that we just couldn't get to go away.
You stay for a week when you promised to stay for a day.
I must say.
You borrowed some money, hoping that you'd find your way home.
Never stopping to think.
Or thanking your folks for the loan.
I don't know what it is but there's just something off with your tone.
A slight whiff of violence.
You're just like a dog with a bone.
A no go.

Narcissistic.
C'est la vie.



C'est la Vie

Infamous Box-My Own Eyes

Beauty In a minor key

Beauty In a Minor Key(UPDATE)

Buy it on Bandcamp:
https://coletivofarra.bandcamp.com/album/pt-malacca

Produção: Satha Lovek
Artwork: João Coutinho
Edição: Coletivo Farra

Tracklist:
1. Mata-kantiga (3:52)
2. Grago (3:32)
3. Ode to Malacca (6:50)
4. Compassion as Contempt (7:35)

Samples de "A Viagem dos Sons – Kantiga Di Padri Sa Chang" (1998) autorizadas por TRADISOM – Produções Culturais, Lda.
---

Review:
Satha Lovek, estrangeirismo, denominação batismal deste duo de gringos lusitanos, seculares detentores de computadores e melonamania incontível ou, tão simplesmente, a bastardização aglutinadora de “Satha”, rei deposto de “Lovek”, cidade cambojana e catalista de um fabulado 5º Império. PT Malacca, escrito e produzido em 2020, é o seu EP de estreia, editado pelo Coletivo Farra e lançado a 26 de Outubro deste ano, produto de tangentes pandémicas, samples remanescentes de partilhas pletóricas feitas à distância de um teclado. É também uma homenagem distorcida mas sem retorção das Kantigas Di Padri Sa Chang, “procurem-nas e vão perceber”, recomendam. 
Ouvido e depurado, PT Malacca afigura-se um 4-faixas de pós-colonialismo traumático, navegado entre Portugal e o bairro português de Malacca em menos de 22 minutos. Isentos de sentimento patriótico, Satha Lovek compuseram o regresso à uma sinceridade multicultural por meio da sátira ao nacionalismo desmedido, refutado pelas amálgamas artificiosas de drone, free-jazz, IDM e plunderphonics que engrandecem o EP. “Grago”, a segunda faixa, destaca-se pela abrasão ostensiva, emblemática de uma batalha cruzada onde gritos dilacerantes entrecortam eclosões de crueldade e batidas imprevisíveis. Em oposição extrema, “Ode to Malacca”, a terceira faixa, submerge o ouvinte na dissolução prolongada de um amuralhado monocórdico, a última réplica de um império arruinado que, após 4 minutos de drone implacável, se transfigura em canção do cisne pautada por notas de piano cintilantes, uma analogia às narrativas históricas vigentes, reluzentes de tão embelezadas, o legado, currículo e propaganda de alegados heróis do mar. 

Em PT Malacca, as armas e os barões assinalados nunca soaram tão honestamente.
 
~ Ricardo Batarda

FARRA 7 © 2020

Compassion As Contempt

River's domain

https://instagram.com/infamousbox
Independent Artist 
Traper’s Hustle

Infamous Box-My Own Eyes

Infamous Box

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