as always, I love your lyrics -- you deliver clever tongue-in-cheek social commentary like a champ

Welcome back, John! I missed your brand of fantabulous!

This is an ever-changing playlist of my favorite songs and/or artists peppered all over the SCloud at a given moment. 

The list is loosely sequenced in order of favorites, but every single one of these tracks and artists generates within me a tremendous and equal amount of aural joy, keeping me (mostly) sane whether at home or work.   :D

Current faves found thru SCloud that I can't stop replaying...

What do *you* use when changing life-lanes?

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

LYRICS

Humans claim that they don't play games
world keeps running on 
signals signals

Cue the sting, whatchoo wanna bring
What lies in your heart bio loom nascent to mouth
let me sing

What's wrong with a bit of honest signaling?
What's wrong with a bit of honest signaling?
What's wrong what's wrong what's wrong what?

Red string, who you wanna ring
Playin' with your part toxin bloom inflamin' the south
do your thing

(People pleased just to lay down blame)
(say they're slaves to the)
(signals signals)

What's wrong with a bit of scented signaling?
What's wrong with a bit of honest signaling?
What's wrong what's wrong what's wrong what?

***

Accrue the bling, down giants with a sling
What cries through dead arts diode doom pacing you out
take your swing

What's wrong with a bit of costly signaling?
What's wrong with a bit of honest signaling?
What's wrong what's wrong what's wrong what?

Cue the sting, whatchoo wanna bring 
What lies in your heart bio loom nascent to mouth
let me sing

(People pleased just to lay down blame)
(say they're slaves to the)
(signals signals)

What's wrong with a bit of honest signaling? 
What's wrong with a bit of honest signaling?
What's wrong what's wrong what's wrong what?

*****

Signals

A bit of a departure for us but a pretty one. Gina says about it - This song was inspired simply by being outdoors in my backyard at the closing of a summer day. At such times it is easier to find a peacefulness while forgetting the troubles of time and various entanglements, opposing vectors and misunderstandings which are often on the plates of those who live.

Lyrics:

Before the light fades completely
While the tiny creatures sing their praise
While the soft light lingers
And the winged ones call goodnight
A chance to re-create
The simple life

And all our different chords and changes
Minors and majors
Should fit in 
Not be lost but loved
If I’m made of backwards misfitting pieces
It was you who placed them so
I never wanted to be the part
You don’t want to know

The steps I now walk
The places I enter
My moves and meanings
The waves that I cause
The lines that I write
The days I make better
I give them to you figment of my fondest mind (x3)

9000 Things To See

Keep Me Forever

The Simple Life

I've always been chasing, really...

(Shifting gears with this one, channeling a hint of retro French ballad/a dash of synthpop layering/a dollop of days gone by vibe while not-so-subtly self-retrospectively fanboy-idolizing the most important influence in my life... a wholly fictional character.)

*****************************************
Full disclosure: This is really @steve-fullyard's fault (with maybe @john-termaat 's latest track "Only You" also sharing some of the blame...). After coming across his own musical offerings a month or so ago, his timeless old-school synthwave vibe, ridiculous creativity, and a dedication to some days not that far passed struck all the right nostalgic chords and essentially forced me to come up with this latest oddity.  I wouldn't blame you if you went over and listened to his works and likewise Actively Vision-fell into the same delightful Pitfall I did...


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

Il était une fois un p'tit garçon tête-tordu
Ah 
quelle scène pitoyable

Du jour à nuit il s'enfuit 
dans ses visions infinies 
missions vivides, le chevalier des chavirés

Chaque année, sait naviger yeux cillants d'ses idees
pas une fois encore naufré
littoral jaimais touché
s'apprend de plus à chaque journée
échapper les récifs, mots surjetés, 
ces bancs sablés cachés sous vagues, 
nausée dite  
réalité

Il était une fois

***

The windmill thrives
When the Zephyr blows

The dream survives
Where the tide swell grows
The sailor sighs
carried down by flows

The sun's slow rise
over fresh-knit snows
While rainbows cry
For all that we know

And the end draws nigh
While the Zephyr...

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

Le p'tit garçon - The Windmill

I've been accused of worse...

***********************************************
Just one of those can't-stop-brain-from-humming days today, where something pops in your head and the only way to purge oneself is to make a tiny simple track out of it asap.

LYRICS
Accuse me of magic but
Nothin's up my sleeve

While world tries to sell me
Pop-ups to believe

Guess I'll try breathing
Maybe the air sets me free

I swear it's this easy
Just open my eyes to see

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

Accuse Me

Good American

Still processing my father's loss, and struggling to put fingers to keys of late. But I know that I need to push through this wail and return to the you-n-i-verse eventually.

He'd want it that way.

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

The Truth about axes
is they smash through the frays
of the eyes and the neighs,
chunk rough trunks in their ways,
but harvest vines and scythed hays
are immune somehow

And then my father died


The thing about truths
is they burst veins with their use
as they bump and they bruise
debase and abuse
while made-up monks gussy down for pastel plaster plays,
giddy-thrup and are amused somehow

As they watch my father die


To axe about things
that make wishes with rings
grains of sooth waxed to wings
whether leather or feather
they weather the soul with
the truths that they bring
sun-drunk lay in their daze 
flippant, mince with loose ways
and flap lips like goosed fools

While my father dies

The Truth About Axes

Concealed

This song is best ingested in conjunction with its symbiotic Music Video as part of a complete breakfast: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=02yvaKW0YiM

"My oh my" is what You say
when the strifes of life at last give way
to a moment with a slow decay
where freedom sings its soft hooray

This song was inspired by a journey I took, a process of discovery and healing, of hope and vigilance, of pain and sweet empowerment, and of freedom! The journey never ends (it goes on and on and on and on!! hehehe)

The song is dedicated to my Myo guide, Jessica, who inspired me, educated me, aided me, and encouraged me with tenacious tact and outstanding optimism. Thank You so so much Jessica! :) This video contains a few servings of my current levels of joy and liberation thanks to You hahahah

Within the lyrics are many wink-winks and nudge-nudges for any Myologists out there, or any fellow Myofunctional journeyers and tongue-tied alums. ;)

Let this also be a gentle advocation for myofunctional therapy for anyone who it may benefit, and a solid recommendation to contact Jessica at https://www.opusom.com/ if You do decide to tread that path.

A few production notes, the drum kit is entirely comprised of samples I recorded of my own mouth-sounds, a tedious process, but I've always wanted to try it and this song presented the perfect thematic opportunity!
For longtime fans, the video features some old familiar faces, Loveman (from the 'Let Me Love You' video) and Funkman (from 'In A Funk' fame), they were more than pleased to join me in singing and dancing to this track!
And lastly, this has been my first attempt at such sneaky video editing techniques, it was quite marvellously fun and edifying to spend some time and effort creating and learning new techniques :D

Thank You to family, friends, fans, and all who support and encourage my creativity,

May this song represent a morsel of my(o) Love for You

<3

Lyrics:

//

For anybody feeling weak, (So damn tired)
Getting tired of losing sleep, (We've tried)
There's no use in grinded teeth, (Go take five)
Lets put our tongues up in our cheeks (For a while)

My oh my
say goodbye
to all ties
That been holdin us down
Myo Myo My
We could float into the sky
Make our way where the birds fly
Bound for the unbound
myoymyoymyoymyoo
clip the string on the yoyo
let it spin let it go for a roll
From the floor to the rooftop
mymymymymomyomoymoyoo
Open up and let the tongue grow
Big smile let the gum show
yeah, that hits the spot

We're losing air far from our peaks, (Deprived)
But I heard about a cave where we can breathe (Let's get inside)
Right beneath our nose, too close to speak it (We a little shy)
We seal our lips closed like it's our little secret (And we smile)

Myo Myo My,
Say Goodbye,
To all ties
From the floor to the rooftop
Myo Myo My,
We could float into the sky,
Make our way where the birds fly,
Yeah, that's the spot.

We climb high finding the sweet-eet-eet spot
We fly by smiling at used rooftops

//

xoxo

Official Music Video

Myo Myo

“Silas”

Silas
While you were sleeping last night
I had a vision
So real I shook with fright
My room was a prison
Whose key was lost in my mind
I searched all, blindly
But felt nothing to find

How can I convey to you
What came to me immediately
When reason and words defy
If I were you, I’d doubt it, too
But it was no dream or fantasy
I saw it true as I do you
About this I’d never lie

Silas
Can’t you believe me, my friend
I am no zealot
Nor are my wits at their end
There came a sheriff
Whose open mouth shone a light
He lit inside me
And I saw him the Christ

How can I convey to you
What came to me immediately
When reason and words defy
You say my mind has become skewed
But such is said too easily
Harder to accept the truth
From across the great divide

He set me free
He is the key
He came to me
He heard my plea / He is alive

How can I convey to you
What came to me immediately
When reason and words defy
Would my joy could pass to you
But it came to me unwantedly
I resisted like a restless fool
But he’s changed my very mind

- - -
Music by Corey Ball
Lyrics by August Lysy

Silas

PATERNITY


if you’re going down
down onto the sea
don’t leave without me


boarded up the house
threw away the keys
blown down to my knees


once we lived as a family
splendid circle of three


fifth of bourbon won’t
kill the memories
what you meant to me


memory of a family
partner, kiddo and me:
rocky beach and light house beam
counting rabbits in sunset dream


once we lived as a family
splendid circle of three


if you’re going down
down into the mud
don’t leave without me

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks to Janine Levinson, Wheelwright and David Weiss for early listening 
and encouragement.

Paternity

Is anyone still out there?
Well hello there if you are taking some of your valuable time to read this! As the lyrics to this (probably)final song say, its been a long while……
The last time I checked into Soundcloud was maybe last December, wow…. 
I packed up for a holiday in Hawaii, ran the Honolulu Marathon, watched a volcano erupt, cast my dog’s ashes into a lava field and drank a tropical island's worth of cocktails while watching the sunset with my wife. And then returned a few weeks later decidedly unenthused about the Cat and my collaborator.
Gina had been making noises about returning to an on again / off again musical partner. That wasn’t unexpected and was actually a bit of a relief as I hadn’t been enjoying this for a while. Our last few songs had been tortuous to finish, including this one which was finally finished I think way back in October 2022.
Cat Came Back was always a lot like an arranged marriage - nothing at all in common but we kind of made it work 3 minutes at a time. But by late last year, it had become very hard work. And as you fellow Soundclouders know, outside of personal satisfaction, the rewards for all of that hard work are not very large. So, if the personal satisfaction is gone, there’s not a lot left to motivate oneself. 
In addition to that, there were a few rather large elephants in the room regarding my collaborator that I won't go into but nevertheless constantly weighed very heavily on my mind throughout our time together and I was finding these increasingly difficult to continue to ignore for the sake of making music together.
So anyway, when I returned a perhaps brief hiatus accidentally turned into this - silence for what, 7-8 months? Haven’t picked up an instrument in all that time and they currently sit in my garage gathering dust. Took up Chess, what a rabbit hole that is! Continued running. Listening as always to a lot of old jazz. Continued seemingly never ending renovations to my house. Spent a lot of time with my lifelong friend, William Styron’s Black Dog, as a matter of fact he's here sitting right by my side now. 
So what now? I sat down a few days back and listened to a few things that were unfinished as of late last year. Maybe its time to start again. Find a new collaborator or two? Anyone know anyone who might be a match?
In the meantime I’ll dip my toe in and check out what some of my favourite Soundclouders have been up to while I was away. I'm sure I've missed out on some really great stuff.

Minor Exotica (Turned To Black)

Here's another original I wrote earlier this summer that I had the chance to play through with @mayakerenmusic on keys!

Lately I’ve been staring 
at a sky of thoughts that never rains 
Slate and static, lines that never change 
Lately I've been wrapped in shades
Of blue and grey that only break 
When I remember you
Standing in the snow in November

It's moments like those
I stole them from weeks or years ago 
I hold them close
as though they could keep me warm
And when I'm alone
I picture the ways you cared for me 
then memory leaves 
and life returns to stone

Weightless

Composer: DANIELYAN ASHOT MAKICHEVICH (IPI NAME 00855552512), UNITED STATES BMI.

All Ashot Danielyan Albums: https://ashotdanielyan.bandcamp.com/

Buy me a coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/ashotcomposer

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Field Of Flowers

Support me

Ashot Danielyan - Field Of Flowers

My version of Wild One by LDR (unreleased song).

Wild One

We're only as real as we pretend to be.

********************************************************
LYRICS
As far as the eye is willing to see
We're only as real as we pretend to be
Flashing instance impressions, this 
thumb-driven face-full-flag faux-tag-graphy

And we are all fonts, adjustable make-believers
Twitter-tattered hearts, some times grinners null sum voracious grievers
at the raindrop of our busker-hats, we play beggar deceivers
Self-sourced friction fiction with nothing apps 
our touchscreen sleeves

Yet can anyone prove this read swell
flows from you or me?


***


As long as the die is cast into the sea
We'll never quite know what it means to be free
Dashed against dawn-veiled depressions, this 
temper-contriving molded slag sim-apathy

Hollow soul haunts, acclimatized fake-receivers
Poise in piecemeal parts, patch-work sinners poured into part-time believers
Hungry for pigslop, infinite bucket-scat, we pray 
to better sooth-relievers
Self-service selection addiction, bed-whetted appetite, 
high-res cliffside reprieve

Distilled, I ask, can anyone prove this read swell
flows from you or me?

***

We're only as real
We're only as real as we pretend to be
We're only as real
We're only as real as the eye is willing to see

We're only an eye to pretend the willing from reel to real as you or me
We're only swelling this red flow from you or i pretending to see

we're only as real
we're only as real


***


So where do we go just so we can be?
Can divergence of flesh and flash converge into a single history
Deliberated Diversion, meld-weld infinite us-es 
into congress of congruity

'Cause we all have wants, inscrutable deep-seed behaviours
Unlocked Merry-go karts, boosting primal power-up fueling our hearts' be-labours
Disparate need to survive from screeching Fast 
to basic Maslow's failures, 
Or maybe pixels aren’t the problem and just like pigment, 
flaw's never been about too many flavours

...

Belief-Make

I'm a software engineer who likes to write songs

Worst poet wanna-being worster singsong-person. 

Lost to learning. Living the attempt.

Good American

RaceYouAnytime

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Francois Cormier

Francois Cormier

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