For my son Jan (1976-2022), who's dream it was to fly a plane...
Happy sounds with a Gambian twist...

The Captain Of The Clouds

Get That Train

https://youtu.be/dLLddlqKIHc?si=wT5hmEY_W3Fp5ZvI 

This is my attempt at performing this song in a single take with just me and my guitar (Taylor 114 ce)
Also to compare and contrast, here’s a  link to a more polished full band version of this song that I recorded with the help of the Eclectic Collective 
https://soundcloud.com/josh-clary-1/ai-sucks-the-eclectic?si=67d29d363d2a419dacbf860fa471165e&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
Many thanks to SoundCloud musician Michele Ansani  https://on.soundcloud.com/A24Cig19AVNqQmCk8 who's lyrics inspired me to write this song and collaborated with me to help bring this song to life.
***
Lyrics
When I was thirteen I picked up my first guitar
it was my mother's, it only had one nylon string 
I tried to play it like a rock star
I learned to play the Coca-Cola jingle
So I could teach the world to sing
When I was fourteen, I put on six new strings
I learned to play Beatles, I learned a Bob Dylan song
I sounded out of tune but I tried to carry on
At fifteen I wrote my first original tune 
So bad it sounded like it might have been written by a baboon
When I was sixteen, I got a new guitar for my birthday
The metal strings sawed through my fingers but I continued to play
And as the calluses formed and every day I learned a brand new chord
I was obsessed with that guitar and I never grew bored.
I wrote songs every day and most of them were a mess
But I believed that through hard work, I could achieve success
Malcom Gladwell wrote a book that said it takes ten thousand hours
To become and expert at your craft
And now all it takes is two commands and an enter
And in two minutes you have ten versions of the same damn new song,
You just have to choose the type
folk, rock, rap, pop, metal, jazz, trap or blues.
You don't even need to write the lyrics, 
your push a few buttons let the AI choose.
And people will think your songs are great 
even though you didn’t write or play a single note.
When I was 20, I did my first concert, it was time
it occurred in a village square
there were four cats all friends of mine
I was still using the plectrum and sometimes I got the chords wrong
at thirty I finally wrote what I thought was a decent song
It had a very well thought out structure and a catchy vibe and beat 
It was overly verbose but when I played it people tapped their feet
In my forties I stopped wasting my time
Work was more fun I was doing just fine
I had a steady paycheck that could feed me 
And the record companies didn’t need me
In my fifties once again my musical juices started flowing
I bought the necessary equipment I was eager to get going
I recorded all my strumming and saved it onto my PC
The internet and technology were advancing rapidly
I took those special songs I’d written of which I was most proud
Posted them Instagram, You Tube, Tik Tok and SoundCloud
I asked myself if a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around
Does it make a sound?
But now all it takes is two commands and an enter
And in two minutes you have ten versions of the same damn new song,
You just have to choose the type
folk, rock, rap, pop, metal, jazz, trap or blues.
You don't even need to write the lyrics, 
your push a few buttons let the AI choose.
And people will like your songs even though you didn’t write or play a single note.

AI Sucks Acoustic Live Version

Woodland stream.

Collaboration with https://soundcloud.com/nakedverse
Lyrics:-
With some keen observation
You'll see
Dancing in and out the wires
They'll be
You won't know how they pulled it off oh no
Just little clues of who's involved

Mysterious and a force for good
Just a few
Know Q
17 is their calling card
That's who ?
That's Q

Military precision 
Finesse
Such a cool sense of timing
Obsess
You'll wish you knew how it all ends (you won't)
They're making moves you don't understand 

Mysterious and a force for good
Just a few
Know Q
17 is their calling card
That's who ?
That's Q

When the lights go out
And you don't know who to trust
They're on your side
Always on your side

Mysterious and a force for good
Just a few
Know Q
17 is their calling card
That's who ?
That's Q

Nakedverse/winkandwoo 2025

Calling Card

Calling Card - Nakedverse & winkandwoo

‘Why’ is the sixth studio quality Grey Hounds song to be released, this one delves into the meaning of life. A small percentage of people know exactly what they’re doing here and are getting on with it. The rest of us spend lives wondering around aimlessly hoping to crack the enigma of life. Who’d have thought choosing a cover for this song would be so much fun, the ‘Y’ fronts came up trumps of course.
We're a bunch of grey-haired old men having fun writing our own songs and wishing we'd done it 40 years earlier!! The plan is to write and release an album of songs in the coming year or so, then build the courage to go out and play them live in front of real audiences.

Why?

Music : Janne Hennie & Little Man
Lyrics & vocals : Janne Hennie

Every time I came to visit
You danced around my feet
Made happy noises, barked a song
Lots of cuddles, lots of love

You are my friend, like a brother to me
We could talk, have long good walks
Always faithful, with trust in us
So much comfort in my mothers dog

But now you're tired, you need to rest
I know you did you're very best
I will carry you on our last walk
My little brother, my mothers dog

If I was sad, you licked my hand
could always sense and understand
Whenever something was bad or wrong
You were there, your presence so strong

Take a rest now, my brother, my friend
I'm pretty sure I'll meet you again
Then we'll take a long good walk
Lots of cuddles, lots of love

But now you're tired, you need to rest
I know you did you're very best
I will carry you on our last walk
My little brother, my mothers dog

My Mothers Dog

Youtube video:  https://youtu.be/mR-ybA_FtbY

There always seems to be dishes to wash.  Endless.  Take a break for a little while.  

ALWAYS WASHING DISHES
(c) JunkHeap Sep 02 2025

I’m thinking about relaxing; sit down and grab the remote.
Me and my girl are chillin’ back.  She says to me, 
‘Oh no you don’t, it’s your turn’.  

I’m always washing dishes.

My mind drifts off thinking,
why, why, as I say up to the sky.
I won’t comply... but I know that’ll leave me in the doghouse.
So I grudgingly start to fill the sink, oh ya.
Building up that sudsy goodness, cleaning going well; pearly white dishes.
...and my lady she is just lounging, it’s not fair.
watching Unsolved Mysteries on streaming.

Always washing dishes.

Just once I’d like to, just once...
Put them to the side, let it all slide for the evening. 
Put them to the side, let it all slide for the evening.

I’m always washing dishes.

Always Washing Dishes

Find Seagull's brilliant music here: @farout-music-studio

Find David's sublime guitar work here: @david-dunhamuser589535203
_______________________________________________________________________________

You know, don't you?  Oh, yes you do.  
You know you're being monitored, observed, assessed by something that knows you intimately.  
Knows you better than you’d like to think.  
Your secondary semi-subconscious once-removed.  
That's why you talk to yourself - or pretend to.  
Admit it - you're not really you, at all, are you?  
In fact, you're not real, are you?  You are watching “you”.  
You are nothing but your alter ego's doppelganger temporarily encased in a piece of warm, wet meat.  
A transient instantiation of a mirrored reflection of some lump of sentience from precisely one, of an infinite number of parallel universes.  

It’s called “conscience”.  

Handle with care.  

You were gifted it for a reason.
_________________________________________________________________________________

"…..Neatly packaged, all my doubts, the rationales and bellyaches,
Wracked without, passion in thrall to humanity's handicap diamond stakes…."
_________________________________________________________________________________

Ghost of a Sense

Yes, I know you.
I can feel your presence.
I can touch you, smell you.
I see you not by sight of eye
And yet I ken that you are I
That vespered wraith that writhes within
To test my faith, try my sin
Push the bounds to cause offence
A moral, soul thing, ghost of a sense recalls myself, so well defined
Entrenched, walls behind, built so sound of dust that crowned the pity, falling soft amiss, 
Deep inside the tears I cry as here I find my self-abyss.

Whispers bringing shadows, filled of secrets therein held,
Memories, morose, piece me still, to wear in time, my wasted face.
And now reside, cast aside, to forge and ever meld,
Of haunting, ringing echoes, that will alone their chime erased.

Ah! But you won't twist me, nor bind me fast, to the sandy doctrines of the misty past, 
With its beards and staffs and crinkled testaments.
My future's sprinkled here present with your crass irrelevance and matters not that sat right there, 
The blackest chasm in my simpling world so spare, 
Where space and time have overspilled the leaking psyche of a crippled mind,
That barely copes, unfulfilled, a crooked, limpid moral health of broken shrines
That hopes to find ....
   .......some worthwhile inner self.
___________________________________________________________________________________

Photo by Marten Newhall on Unsplash

Ghost of a Sense ... with Seagull and David Dunham

Smólaigh  ( Gesindel )

"This Minute" inspire you to make the most of now.

This Minute

The name JunkHeap came from creating song ideas and leaving them for later, and then picking through the junk heap of ideas to enhance a new song idea.  Explore my discography, find something you like.  

All of my albums on Soundcloud have been reduced to a sampling of a few songs.  The complete albums are available on all streaming sites.

JunkHeap is a solo, alternative rock music project.  Unapologetic, thought-provoking, emotionally raw music for the masses...