Real great feel 🤗 very nice sounds 🤗👏

In response to "Now I want to know if Lydia has a rephyrgerator in her flat?".

No, she doesn't. This is a problem because now Lydia has no place to put the leftover Mixo soup which is an attraction to all the monkees. Meanwhile, Doria and freaky Phrygia are still busy figuring out whether they are same or not. There are rumours that it depends on the root. Unfortunately --- no rephrygerator = neither carrots nor celeriac. (Why did I even start this.)

No Rephrygerator

Gunshot blues is the first track I have written and recorded. I recorded the track at HQ Studios in Manchester. I first started writing the song about 7 years ago but then moved onto writing the next song and then the next song and so on. I finally got around to finishing this one last year and taking it to the studio to record. I play the guitars, bass and there is an organ somewhere in the background. I then attempt to sing as well. Drums are a mix of samples put together by the producer. There is some other percussion in there such as tambourine and I don’t know if there is a technical name for it but “shaky egg”? My Dad did those as he came with me to the recording studio when i did this track and I wanted him to be a part of it. See what you think…..

gunshot blues

Extracts from The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver by Edna St Vincent Millay 1892-1950
Recital from LibriVox.org read by Linda Leu

“Son,” said my mother,
   When I was knee-high,
“You’ve need of clothes to cover you,
   And not a rag have I”.
 
“There’s nothing in the house
   To make a boy breeches,
Nor shears to cut a cloth with
   Nor thread to take stitches.”
 
“There’s nothing in the house
   But a loaf-end of rye,
And a harp with a woman’s head
   Nobody will buy,”  
   And she began to cry.
 
…

Men say the winter
   Was bad that year;
Fuel was scarce,
   And food was dear.
 
A wind with a wolf’s head
   Howled about our door,
And we burned up the chairs
   And sat on the floor.
 
All that was left us
   Was a chair we couldn’t break,
And the harp with a woman’s head
   Nobody would take,
   For song or pity’s sake.
 
…

Looking nineteen,
   And not a day older,
And the harp with a woman’s head
   Leaned against her shoulder.
 
Her thin fingers, moving
   In the thin, tall strings,
Were weav-weav-weaving
   Wonderful things.
 
Many bright threads,
   From where I couldn’t see,
Were running through the harp-strings
  Rapidly,
 
…

There sat my mother
   With the harp against her shoulder
Looking nineteen
   And not a day older,
 
A smile about her lips,
   And a light about her head,
And her hands in the harp-strings
   Frozen dead.
 
And piled up beside her
   And toppling to the skies,
Were the clothes of a king’s son,
   Just my size.

The Ballad Of The Harp-Weaver

Fireflies

Hinkler Blues Box Guitar
Hohner Special 20 Harmonica
Yamaha Tenor Saxophone
Addictive Keys piano
Garageband strings

Tired Of Feeling Tired

Christmas: A birthday celebration where we tend to forget whose birthday it is.

Não há lugar, não há qualquer estalagem.
Já não há espaço no coração.
Não há milhões que prestem homenagem.
Não há louvores da multidão.
Dá-me tua luz, oh vem guiar os passos meus.
Dá-me tua luz, filho de Deus.
Como os pastores que os anjos convidaram
Deus dá convites a todos nós.
Abençoados os que não esperaram
e atenderam à Sua voz.
Dá-me tua luz, oh vem guiar os passos meus.
Dá-me tua luz, filho de Deus.

Natal 2023

自然の神秘

Qui Est Là

Gettin' There (and Back)

Together Again

shuffle

Hello and thank you for dropping by.

Thank you very much to everyone who takes the time to listen, like and share my noises. I am extremely grateful. My apologies if I take a little while to respond to those that leave nice comments.

I like listening to music, making simple, tunes when I have time, and generally faffing about in an inefficient manner. Hopefully you might like something on offer here. 

I use a Hinkler Cigar Box guitar (about $30 from Aldi, great fun), a Flying V ukulele, a couple of old keyboards, other bits and bobs, and a Yamaha tenor saxophone.

Tired Of Feeling Tired

Mikey McFaffington and his Saxophonic Adventures

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