Space Ambient

Zero Gravity

Improvisation rythmique avec Bayan, tambour grave, et chant, sous l'évodia butiné par les abeilles bruissantes; le vent se mêle parfois à l'ensemble.
visuel: peinture réalisée sur format 1mX1m
Rhythmic improvisation with Bayan, low drum, and singing, under the evodia gathered by rustling bees; the wind sometimes mixes with the whole.
visual: painting made on 1mX1m format

L'Abeille et L'Evodia Patrick Picault

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXjY5U8bJdA
Well Hello again people! Back with another.
Laid back chilled smooth vibes. 82 Bpm.
Track 8 for the album in works. No order
of release. More coming real soon.
Appreiate all feedback, support.
Much love. Uploaded on 04/10/2024.

The Sands of Time

Of all song genres, I like lullaby most, because only lullaby is a song of pure unconditional love. This is the one for a dark and stormy night, with wind howling, and low and ominous clouds swiftly moving across the starless sky.

YouTube video

Dark and Stormy Lullaby

https://soundcloud.com/velvetsomethingsuperdark/sets/cold-city-soundtrack
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Snow*Omen/Velvet Something Superdark collaboration.
Music: Snow*Omen @snow_omen (recordings of two improvised live performances. Electric guitars: VSS & Y.A., voices: Y.A.). Mixing and production: VSS. All sounds Snow*Omen and VSS. Image: Möckernbrücke Subway Station, Berlin, at night (videostill: VSS).

Cold City (lyrics: Y.A.)
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Cold city wires us up
to the crispy 
winter lanes
to the chimes and bells of rust

We are fragile

Are we still warm in her hands?
Are we the aftermath of her night?
Are we her crumbling body of bread?

Cold city swallows us up
every morning
she takes us down
with her first coffee cup

We are fragile

Are we her little wicked friends?
Are we her nausea at breakfast?
Are we her crumbling body of bread?

She dusts the crumbles
off her teeth 
her pointed teeth
puts on her million fancy gowns

We are fragile

Are we her foxy lady friends?
Are we her agents of the dawn?
Or just her crumbling body of bread?

Cold city is the ageless queen
snowless
and dark 
with icicles she writes upon our skin

That we are fragile

Cold City: Echoes

Icicles

The Assignment: What if you could?

There is just one step to this project. The idea that one cannot “unring a bell” is a fairly common saying, at least in English. But what if you could? What might it sound like? And what use might the unrung bell serve in the making of music. Please record a track in which you try to unring a bell.

More on the 682nd weekly Disquiet Junto project, Unring a Bell — The Assignment: What if you could? — at https://disquiet.com/0682/

unrung [disquiet0682]

Detun'd

"Raise reddest columns. Toll a bell
And clap the hollows full of tin.

Throw papers in the streets, the wills
Of the dead, majestic in their seals."

The Man With the Blue Guitar is a poem published in 1937 by Wallace Stevens. It is divided into thirty-three brief sections, or cantos. In the poem, an unnamed "they" says, of the titular man, "you do not play things as they are", sparking a prolonged meditation on the nature of art, performance, and imagination.

The Man With The Blue Guitar - full of tin

On Surface Floats My Goldfish [Live Eurorack Modular Jam]

Corrado (Centrics (Morgo_theMonkeyGod)) is an idiot.