Oh ..   Now this has some grit! nice played and performed!  Thank you for Sharing JT x

sounds amazing man, great song, brilliant playing.

so cool/ on a roll/slideN it/ slick/savor the flavor/folks yes/ great soundN trip

Earthy & real man.  And I'll never look at a biscuit the same again.

Recorded and mixed in Jeskola Buzz Tracker ...

Buzztler_Southamerica_(StonesWannabe)

The burning eternal question - do you love me?
Do you love me, you love me?
Well so do people who sell ice-cream
They'll say anything, they think I'd like to hear

Do yo love me like they do?

Hey girl, you better watch out
cos people care not for what you may
Though it's written on their faces
They hide behind sweet words

Anybody for ice-cream (or tennis)?
(a nod to @nic_nic_nic: Nic for tennis suggestion)

Live Studio recording, engineered by Darren Flynn
Drums Steve O'Keeffe (The Pale/BluesConfidential  www.bluesconfidential.com
https://soundcloud.com/bluesconfidential) 
Bernard Byrne (The Pale)
Lead vocals, BV, guitar, art by Suzanne Ledwith

Change of Address

Hey Ho

"Up in the Gallery" (German: "Auf der Galerie") is a short piece of fiction written by Franz Kafka. It was created between November 1916 and February 1917 and published in the collection „Ein Landarzt“ (A Country Doctor) in 1919. The story offers two versions of a scene in which a young man watches a circus ringmaster and a woman on horseback. (Wikipedia)

The picture shows a section of: At The Circus Fernando, The Rider
by Henri Toulouse-Lautrec (1888)

Public domain translation by Ian Johnston (November 2003)                     


Up in the Gallery

If some frail tubercular lady circus rider 
were to be driven in circles around and around 
the arena for months and months 
without interruption 
in front of a tireless public 
on a swaying horse 
by a merciless whip-wielding 
master of ceremonies, 
spinning on the horse, 
throwing kisses and swaying at the waist, 
and if this performance, 
amid the incessant roar 
of the orchestra and the ventilators, 
were to continue into 
the ever-expanding, gray future, 
accompanied by applause, 
which died down and then swelled up again, 
from hands which were really steam hammers, 
perhaps then a young visitor to the gallery 
might rush down the long stair case 
through all the levels, 
burst into the ring, and cry “Stop!” 
through the fanfares 
of the constantly adjusting orchestra.


But since things are not like that,
(Since things are not like that…rep.)         

since a beautiful woman, in white and red, 
flies in through curtains 
which proud men in livery open in front of her, 
since the director, 
devotedly seeking her eyes, 
breathes in her direction, 
behaving like an animal, and, as a precaution, 
lifts her up on the dapple-gray horse, 
as if she were his grand daughter, 
the one he loved more 
than anything else,
as she starts a dangerous journey, 
but he cannot decide to give the signal with his whip 
and finally, 
controlling himself, gives it a crack, 
runs right beside the horse with his mouth open, 
follows the rider's leaps with a sharp gaze, 
hardly capable of comprehending her skill, 
tries to warn her by calling out in English, 
furiously castigating the grooms holding hoops, 
telling them to pay the most scrupulous attention, 
and begs the orchestra, with upraised arms,
to be quiet before the great jump, 
finally lifts the small woman down from the trembling horse, 
kisses her on both cheeks, 
considers no public tribute adequate, 
while she herself, leaning on him, 
high on the tips of her toes, 
with dust swirling around her, 
arms outstretched and head thrown back, 
wants to share her luck with the entire circus—
since this is how things are, 
the visitor to the gallery puts his face on the railing and, 
sinking into the final march as if into a difficult dream, weeps, 
without realizing it.  (rep.)

Up In The Gallery (Kafka, 1919)

Hi,
So, as life is busy and my studio room is being rebuilt, I found myself rummaging through my archives and found another interesting bit - this is still a 4-track, I think it's from 1999, I seemed to have been on a real mental groove.

I threw some neat VSTs on the tracks to give it a slightly modernized feel, hope you enjoy.

Spirit Lifter

The Story of the Biscuit Roller

The Blues are loaded with culinary references to sex - this is a form of signifying, which is the use of innuendo and doubletalk that is understood by members of one’s community. Countless blues lyrics use metaphor and innuendo to allow the singer to brag about physical attributes and sexual prowess, and state all kinds of desires, without uttering a single profane or off-color word. That’s good signifying. 

it takes bit of imagination for a delicate flaky biscuit dripping with butter and honey to become a metaphor for a delectable woman, and her skillful lover who is called a biscuit roller.

A biscuit roller can be male or female, though, as evidenced by Robert Johnson’s lyric from “If I Had Possession Over Judgment Day”:

“I rolled and I tumbled and I cried the whole night long
Boy I woke up this morning, my biscuit roller gone”

Biscuit Blues Songs:
“Biscuit Roller Blues”- Kokomo Arnold (James Arnold)
“If I Had Possession Over Judgment Day”- Robert Johnson
“Big Mama’s Door”- Alvin Youngblood Hart

Cover Art: U.S. #729 1933 3¢ Century of Progress Issue Date: May 25, 1933 First City: Chicago, IL Quantity Issued: 480239300
Text: “The Language of the Blues” Debra Devi 
Song: JTS, Open D - Capo 5 (High Open G) Pinky Slide on Brass Bell Tricone Resonator Guitar, Three Fingers and the Truth
Full Band Song, “Son of a Biscuit Roller”: https://soundcloud.app.goo.gl/H19otF7gwytzyLEG9

Biscuit Roller Blues - JTSunrise Solo Bluesman (Century of Progress)

On My Own

Returned

A children's fairy tale as a name giver? One might have expected that from economists, but from astrophysicists? Well, they were also inspired by economists when it came to finding a catchy, symbolic replacement for the term habitable zone. This is the name given to the area around a star in which life could arise on possible planets.


Very roughly speaking, the distance to the star must allow temperatures at which water remains liquid on the surface of a planet. According to the ideas of terrestrial biology, life cannot develop without this.

For decades, this was a rather theoretical consideration. The few scholars who thought about habitats in other star systems first spoke of ecosphere or life zone, until they finally agreed on habitable zone. Sounds nicely learned. But with the discovery of the first exoplanets, planets outside our solar system, at the end of the millennium, academic as well as general attention increased enormously: Is there something out there? Is there distant, alien life? Could there be? With each newly discovered exoplanet is meaningfully tapped: Isn't it so close to its star that it burns up everything? Doesn't it orbit it so far that everything freezes on its surface?

It's like in a fairy tale with Goldilocks and the three bears, where everything has to be just right. The porridge must not be too hot, the little bear's chair undamaged, his bed unused. Economists have long spoken of a goldilocks economy when moderate growth coincides with slight inflation. A fairy-tale term - now also for an astrobiological concept.

Brevity Of Life (Goldilocks)

Q-The Island of Dr. Moog

SK and Codex Scrolls https://soundcloud.com/codexscrolls    -  enjoying in this wonderful trip  :)

Codex Scrolls and SK Wonderful Trip

Two and a half years ago, I wrote a song about the extinction of species and our negligent treatment of creation: ‘The last Beluga Whale’. At the time, young people were drawing massive attention to the fact that their future was more endangered than ever. I thought about them in one verse. But what has changed to this day, except that I feel even more strongly than back then how our existence hangs by a thread. It is up to all of us to think deeply about our lifestyle so that future generations have a chance. - All the best, Gert -(Video supported by canva.com / https://youtu.be/X8B24tP7bCo )

Vor zweieinhalb Jahren schrieb ich einen Song, der das Artensterben und unseren fahrlässigen Umgang mit der Schöpfung zum Inhalt hatte: "The last Beluga Whale". Damals machten junge Leute massiv darauf aufmerksam, dass ihre Zukunft stärker denn je gefährdet ist. Ich bedachte sie in einer Strophe. Doch was hat sich bis heute geändert, außer dass ich noch stärker als damals spüre, wie unsere Existenz am seidenen Faden hängt. Es ist an uns allen, uns über unseren Lebensstil tiefgreifende Gedanken zu machen, damit nachfolgende Generationen eine Chance haben. - Alles Liebe, Gert (https://youtu.be/X8B24tP7bCo)

The last Beluga Whale

The last falcon in the sky
circles across the desert land.
We take care of ourselves,
ignoring the changes in the world.
That’s what we learned,
growth is our God in daily life.
Want more of this?
We did not understand the warning signs.

I’m feeling blue
Aching in my heart – so deep.
I’m sorry for you.
Tears are running on the ground.

The last beluga whale
plows through the plastic-strewn sea.
We do not want to see:
We are living beyond the means.
That’s what we learned,
growth is our God in daily life.
Want more of this?
We didn’t understand the warning signs.

I’m feeling blue
Aching in my heart – so deep.
I’m sorry for you.
Tears are running on the ground.

Bridge:
Ride a nightmare to the bitter end.
Wonder: How could tomorrow ever follow then.
Ride a nightmare to the bitter end.
We have to awake – right now!
I’m feeling blue
Aching in my heart – so deep.
I’m sorry for you.
Tears are running on the ground.

The children of the earth
begin to awake and cry.
Hope will never end,
but we have to start to change.
It’s almost too late,
but the future is not giving up yet.
We just have to see:
less could be more – most certainly.

I am confident,
closure in our hearts can change.
Come on - get on your way,
take the tiny chance – right now.

(Words & Music by Gert Holle – Nidda, 8.08.2021)
(Video mit Unterstützung von canva.com erstellt)

The Last Beluga Whale - Gert Holle

An American folk performer with roots in the 90s Seattle and Tempe music scenes, JTSunrise weaves classic tunes and tales from the heart with modern images mixed with fingers and breath - - - Genuine Gen X Folkspunk Seattle Americana acoustic guitar, banjo, mandolin, uke, autoharp, harmonica an old school stringband songs recorded down home

If you're an acoustic player/singer-songwriter of any kind please get in touch. 

All Music Matters
Your Music is Real
Thank You All
God Bless You
See u in the Pit (ole$chool punk $aying)

     JT
7777777

Angel Number 7777777 indicates that new chances have arisen in your life due to your hard effort

Engage in things that feed your spirit. If you pay attention to your guardian angels, they will lead you along the appropriate path

jtsunrisemusic@gmail.com

https://youtube.com/@JTSunriseMusic?si=21HSR6c2ucTSjE4C

https://www.instagram.com/jtsunrisemusic?igsh=MWNtZzBoMW5lNGNpZQ%3D%3D&utm_source=qr

https://www.bandmix.com/jtsunrise/

https://www.thebash.com/folk-acoustic-guitar/jtsunrise

https://www.facebook.com/groups/43340809594/

I don’t buy anything, process anything, or sell anything- i don’t process anything sold or bought or processed, or sell anything to be bought or processed or sold

JTSunrise, like a cryptic melody echoing through the mist, A silhouette against the dawn, veiled in an enigma’s twist. Their chords weave secrets, harmonies untold, In the dim-lit corners of the soul, they unfold

Is it the owl reflection of their eyes, the echo of forgotten lullabies? JT strums the strings of mystery, A troubadour in the shadows, lost in history

Their lyrics dance on the edge of dreams, Whispers of forgotten realms and moonlit streams. Enigmatic, they wander through star-kissed nights, A minstrel of the cosmos, chasing celestial light

Perhaps they’re a riddle wrapped in stardust, A cosmic wanderer, both mortal and just. JTSunrise, elusive as the morning mist, Their music lingers, leaving hearts gently kissed

**In the gentle strumming of strings and the raw authenticity of JTSunrise’s compositions, you’ll find echoes of love, nostalgia, and the human experience**

Biscuit Roller Blues - JTSunrise Solo Bluesman (Century of Progress)

JTSunrise

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