Gefährlich&cool 5 mit Soße

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♥ Nick R Davies ♥

The Nick R Davies stories...In order from 1605 to the future...
Mr Nick Davies THIS IS YOUR LIFE!!

From the many friends who you have collaborated with on the cloud we present the following guests
@senfschool @senfsuck @nevermoon @herculeszentrale @joerxworx @user-820148039
Nickrdavies – Chicken-rooster-cows-senfschool-maze-und-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Zauberdoom-senfsuck-with-nick
Nickrdavies – Waves-with-sophie-dani-maze-and-senf
Nickrdavies – Eigentlich-mild-herculeszentrale-joerxworx-und-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Devil-ether-zone-out-devil-ether-adventure-lyrical-smirks-herculeszentrale-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Just-be-your-senf
@extremeloungeterror
Nickrdavies – Remnants-of-gustav-elt-project-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Elt-and-nick-r-davies-the
Nickrdavies – Untroubled-elt-and-nick
@esyrup
Nickrdavies – Six-degrees-of-separation-esyrup-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Five-more-minutes-with-you-esyrup-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – The-skeleton-improvement
Nickrdavies – Future-past-esyrup-with-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Madness-is-the-only-freedom
Nickrdavies – Facing-east-esyrup-and-nick-r-davies
@milanazilnik
Nickrdavies – Milana-midnight-stroll-featuring-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Darkness-awaits-milana-zilnik-with-nick-r-davies
@dacca
Nickrdavies – Les-sanglots-longs-dacca-with-nick-r-davies
@telefan
Nickrdavies – Nicks-posh-blues-telefan-and-nick-r-davies
@hossein-tunes
Nickrdavies – Loop-nick-r-davies-and-rehearsals
Nickrdavies – Regret-rehearsals-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Adele-cover-lovesong-rehearsals-and-nick-r-davies
@sleepingenius
Nickrdavies – Isolation-with-poemsleepingenius-and-nick-r-davies
@paul-racle
Nickrdavies – Go-go-pavloviante-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Fall-rock-ballad-paploviante-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Dark-bridge-paploviante-and-nick-r-davies
@jon-davies-2
Nickrdavies – Songbird-jon-davies-and-nick-r-davies
@kiabeniki
Nickrdavies – Bye-bye-safe-place-nocturnal-rose-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Penny-for-your-thoughts-nocturnal-rose-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Thrasher-nocturnal-rose-and-nick-r-davies
@pierrou
Nickrdavies – In-memory-of-13-november-pierrou-tissan-nick-r-davies
@wildsilences
Nickrdavies – Where-the-wild-ones-sing-wildsilences-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – How-beautiful-you-are-wildsilences-and-nrd
@j-rivas @mrkil1o1
Nickrdavies – Time-machine-j-rivas-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Marie-j-rivas-with-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Damned-if-i-see-you-j-rivas-larry-collen-and-nrd3
@discratebye
Nickrdavies – Praeditos-konokunok-and-nick-r-davies-1
Nickrdavies – Lucy-boogie-georgina-trance-konokunok-and-nick-r-davies
Nickrdavies – Lost-song-konokunok-and-nick-r-davies
@thephaige @dairv-dubbleyew @jaime0223
Nickrdavies – Delineation-of-arc
@mike-spring
Nickrdavies – Goodbye-mike-spring-and-nick-r-davies
@hotos
Nickrdavies – Bunch-of-irreverence-hot-os-and-nick-r-davies

"This is your life" - The Nick R Davies stories

Angel created a remix of one my jams. I thought it would be fun to jam to the remix. Lisa heard the jam, and created these amazing vocals, and lyrics. 

Vocals & lyrics by Lisa West http://soundcloud.com/faerytale
Guitars by Me
Remix by Angel Bambu http://soundcloud.com/itsbam

http://soundcloud.com/faerytale/kiss-the-sky

Kiss the sky

All along the watchtower 
With Hendrix's ghost I roamed 
Looked onto a horizon, blue with the stars calling me home 
But, if you kiss the sky tonight you'll be gone with Foxy Lady and Little Wing 
Don't be surprised by the stars in their eyes 
It's only a little thing

Stepping stones to a shotgun blast 
My soul, borne on ships passing in the night 
Midnight lightening on the highway of broken dreams 
I know everything's going to be alright 
Wake up this morning and find yourself dead 
There may be nothing wrong, but there may be some strange things ahead 
And if you kiss the sky tonight, you'll be gone 
With, Hey, Joe and Voodoo Child 
Don't be unnerved by the bleeding heart 
Don't be unnerved by the smile

Waiting for the dead to rise, wild thing flying the skies 
In a purple haze that envelops the moon 
I used to wonder, now I know why I sing the blues 
And if you kiss the sky tonight, you'll be gone

Through the valleys of Neptune 
Through the Earth blues, I'm a free spirit 
Can't you tell, a burning desire, better times ahead 
As I kiss the sky and say, farewell

Kiss the Sky by Lisa West (Faerytale) with Telefan & Angel Bambu Remix

Quanta [A walk in the garden with Schrödinger's dog] by Quantafide from the album 'String Theory'
[free track download at https://quantafide.bandcamp.com/track/quanta]

Written and recorded by Quantafide. 
Mastered by Quantafide

(C) Quantafide 2014

Quanta

Ride The Comet

Don't blame ME, blame Mrs MOAG.

24000 Baci (Adriano Celentano / Lucio Fulci / Piero Vivarelli - 1961)

Amami
Ti voglio bene 

Con venti quatro mila baci 
oggi saprei perché l'amore 
un ogni tanto mille baci 
mille carezze vuole all'ora

Con venti quatro mila baci
felici corrono le ore
un giorno splendido perché
ogni secondo bacio te

Niente bugie meravigliose 
frasi di amore appassionate 
ma solo baci che do a te 
ye ye ye ye ye ye ye

Con venti quatro mila baci
felici corrono le ore
In questo giorno di follia
ogni minuto è tutto mio

Niente bugie meravigliose
Frasi di amore appassionate
Ma solo baci che do a te 
ye ye ye ye ye ye ye

Con venti quatro mila baci
così frenetico è l'amore
in questo giorno di follia
ogni minuto è tutto mio

Con venti quatro mila baci
felici corrono le ore 
un giorno splendido perché

Con venti quatro mila baci
mi hai portato alla follia 
Con venti quatro mila baci  
ogni minuto è tutto mio 
Con venti quatro mila baci 
ogni secondo bacio te

Mr & Mrs mOag - 24ooo baci [AdrianO CelentanO cOver]

The Song    :    Selena & Gordon's Factory May 2015

https://selenagordonsfactory.bandcamp.com/album/out-there

Initially inspired by a conversation about Coleridge's "Kublai Khan" we began to swap ideas for a psychedelic track with an Eastern influence. 
We widened our literary sources to include Meister Eckhart, William Blake, Aldous Huxley and the Tibetan Bardo Thodol.

Coleridge never made the cut - sorry Sam, there's always next time....

Lots of trip but still some hop.
----------------------------------
Thanks to our good friend Nathan Jon Tillett for donating the great piece of psychedelic artwork that we based our sleeve design on
----------------------------------
The Song :

If the Doors of Perception were cleansed everything would appear as it is : Infinite
Reality is an Illusion

There exists only the present instant, a Now which always and without end is itself new
There is no yesterday or any tomorrow, but only Now

As it was a thousand years ago, and as it will be a thousand years hence

Neither good nor bad, it just is

This is how one ought to see!

We are all One : The Song

We Are The Song

The Song

Guitars & bass By Martin Reed
Drum Amazingness By NEVERMOON
https://soundcloud.com/nevermoon
Improvised Arranged & Produced By
Martin Reed & NEVERMOON

Son Of Pungents Revenge - Feat  NEVERMOON ( Remasterd )

Back in 1709, so lazy and indolent had I become that even the smallest diurnal acts had become monstrous chores. On one occasion I called the farmer's wife weakly from my bed and asked her to place tiny rolled pieces of cheese under each of my toenails. Justly mortified, she agreed and when done, I lay there for some days until, at last a small trail of house mice gingerly sniffed then nibbled at the cheese and in so doing trimmed each nail beautifully.

Resultamondo!

Be good
Nick

Sloth

Bit deep this one!
Inspired by the nice scene in the movie Two By Two when the Nestrians find out they belong in the water.

Nestrians - Coming soon on Emerald & Doreen Records

"According to String Theory, what appears to be empty space is actually a tumultuous ocean of strings vibrating at the precise frequencies that create the 4 dimensions you and I call height, width, depth and time."

Roy H. Williams

My thanks to Hans. It is always a thrill, and an adventure to work with you my friend!

https://soundcloud.com/clouders_for

Composed by: Hans-Michael Albers 

Hans- Guitar, bass, and percussion production
Me- Guitar



String Theory (Clouders for: , and Telefan)

No more pitiful sight than man laid low by that most cruel and debilitating contagion. ..mockingly called the common cold by those unafflicted at the time. 1605 and my old chum King James I pulled a fast one by bundling me into a sack and shoving me under the Houses of Parliament.. some hours later Guy Fawkes tiptoes past with a burning taper. I gave a breathy cough and instantly infected him..so weak he couldn't lift his arm to light the fuse..treated rather roughly thereafter. ..never mind..free fireworks for decades!

Be good
Nick

Phlegm - Symptom Of The Flu-niverse

Morning Land : Selena & Gordon's Factory June 2015
Special Guest : https://soundcloud.com/perpetually-pessimistic
-----------------------------------
Our recent posting : "The Song", https://soundcloud.com/selena-factory/the-song
was a heady, overwhelming trip inspired by classics of visionary literature. At the time we felt there was room for a return to similar subject matter but with very different musical stylings.

Returning to  Herman Hesse's "Siddhartha" & "Journey to the East" we started to write a gentler, more introspective song reliant on subtle acoustic textures.
At this point we asked our good friend & multi-instrumentalist PP : https://soundcloud.com/perpetually-pessimistic  
to help us out with some authentic Indian sounds. Fortunately he was really sold on the sketches and supplied some breathtaking sarod melodies - completely transforming Morning Land into something very special indeed.

Thanks from us both PP.

"Happiness is a talent not an object"
-----------------------------------------------------

When the present feels devoid of meaning, and we spend our days looking back, hiding in memories
We relive our past excitement only now a degree removed
Can we ever hope to find all that we have lost?

Living, Being, Doing, Seeking, Learning
Wanting Love

Living, Being, Doing, Seeking, Growing
Becoming Love

But where do we go in our search for The One?
Our journey to the motherlode and what it means to be human
To satisfy our need for completeness, We search for the Ultimate Truth
Is Reality Within Us?

Morning Land, We seek the Light
We seek the Home, Home of the Soul

We Journey East, to end the night
We're going home, We're going home


Morning Land : w. Perpetually Pessimistic - PP

Wonderful summer's day in Umbria, 1798. Warm, hazy sun, lazy insects, wafts of olive wood, dry earth, lemons and linen. Arrived at the market with the usual dredging thirst for wine that presented itself at midday in those times. Strode purposefully towards an artisan liqueur stall, equally drawn by the rainbow of bottles and the rather toothsome fair lady behind the table. She dipped her head and stole a glance ar me, doe-eyed and chancing a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth. "You want to try?" She breathed, seductively I thought. "Anything from your fair hand" (inward grimace). A deep lilac flute of sugary spirit was gulped with enthusiasm. .a little self-conscious of the glipping noise of my swallow. Dragged my hand across my lips and felt very strange. All the colours of the day became a swirl and, mortifyingly,  I felt a growing wet warmth spread across the front of my breeches.

Next thing I know, I am awake in an iron cage, in a dark stone dungeon. "Oh, Lord, not again" I muttered. The substantial mound of flesh I knew as the Marchesa lumbered towards me, like a walking chest of drawers in a frock. She moved her ham head to within an inch of mine. Camel-toothed and wild-eyed she told me that naughty Nicholas would be punished for wetting himself.

Right hip still plays up a bit, and I mix my own drinks now
Life's lessons, eh?
Be good

Nick

Female voice from the excellent Madam Vicious http://freesound.org/people/MadamVicious/

The Marchesa's Bitter Potion

Had a fabulous surprise when Jimmy,https://soundcloud.com/j-rivas sent me a track and said "do what you like!". A long time admirer of his super, genre-spanning music, excellent vocals, keen humour and generosity this was marvellous fun to work on and a great privilege. Chuckled all the way through recording this, with his deadpan, surreal outbursts! Thanks again, Jimmy

Be good
Nick


J.Rivas And Nick R Davies NICK WITH THE SOLID KICK

Florence 1888, first floor apartment, Via de’ Tornabuoni. Slumped on the bed in my shoes, mid-afternoon. You know how it is..the tall windows open inwards, the shutters allowing in thin dusty slabs of ochre sun. The day's half-memories melting into the distance, like milk in a slow river. Limbs and tongue heavy, immobile, each breath a sugary draught of the otherworld. Distant noises; carts, whistling, a dog, crisscrossing my mind in tiny twinkles. My whole being gently reverberating in the transfer to sleep. 

Then a new thought...unable to be repelled. The growing, ugly realisation that I forgot to use the bedpan before I laid down.
Be good

Nick

Influenced by the beautifully mellow work of ELT https://soundcloud.com/extremeloungeterror
Photo is Snoring Old Man | by Nicky Wilkes

Twenty Winks

I am a huge admirer of Nocturnal RoSe (Natalia)and her unique vocal style and very pleased to be part of a collaboration with her. https://soundcloud.com/kiabeniki

This is an adaptation of a track she posted a while back and we've both reworked parts to fit. When I received the vocal stem and Omnisphere I thought 'Wow, Davies, you'd better step up!" 

I thank her for her huge talent and kindness.

We hope you enjoy this and thank you for listening and reading
Be good

Nick

Bye Bye (Safe Place )- Nocturnal RoSe And Nick R Davies

Back in 1910, I was blessed to have met Julius Klunk, quite possibly the clumsiest man to have walked the teeming streets of the East End of London. I say blessed because he not only provided, unwittingly, through his wretched and ungainly sense of coordination, a chortle value far in excess of any reasonable expectation of a work colleague, but also saved my life. Working as Muffin Men we would meet at the Bakery at 5:30am sharp. He would usually be sporting two or three blood roses of tissue paper, stauching the damage inflicted during his morning, hacking, shave, and at least one finger was freshly hooded with a sticking plaster. His delivery list inevitably fluttered face-down into a puddle; his hat quickly following as he swooped down to retrieve it. His first load of muffins was generally accepted to be sacrificial - his second came with a stern warning. Customer payments frequently slid down the outside of his pockets and onto the doorstep. Muffins were usually handed over with a thumbnail accidentally gouging an arm, or worse, a breast or eye. Retreating with breathless apology backwards down the front steps would result in a heavy fall onto his back and a flailing leg. Crossing the road, he would send horses whinnying and wheels screeching. 

One day, I was dragged into an alley by a couple of knife-wielding thugs, demanding I hand over the takings. Unwilling to yield,  they drew their blades to my throat.  "I say! Unhand him!" I heard with the corner of my eye. Klunk then tripped over a dustbin and windmilled forward trying to break his fall for about 15 yards. His arms clubbed heavily the two muggers, who fell senseless to the floor. Sorry..sorry. .sorry he mumbled.

I treated him to a foaming draught of Pale Ale for his trouble, which he held to the light then promptly poured down his front and his groin.

I was impressively accurate in consuming mine.
Be good

Nick

Klunk

I returned to Chuffleigh Manor where I'd spent my teens in the 1640s. The place was derelict and desolate. Leaves swirled in the great hall and damp feathers lay dead on the stairs. I sat in a damp high-backed chair as the last lukewarm rays of sun cast themselves over the horizon. Dusk brought voices. Sullen maids shrunken by servitude, singsong children skipping across the lawns, Auntie Rissa humming nursery rhymes backwards. They would fade as the candle flames grew...energies transferring. 

Started to give me the jitters. I blew my fringe through my bottom lip and shifted in the chair. All was still except for my shallow breathing.  Uncle Norris' Medical Chest caught my eye, grey with dust and neglect. I remembered his unbending cheeriness and scarlet complexion. Sleep fortified him in late morning and late afternoon. 

I peeled open the chest doors and saw a glinting dozen of whisky bottles,  most uncorked and a single crystal glass. Engraved on the side of the glass were the words "Safe at last". "Too true, Norris" I mouthed as I helped myself, glipping it with gusto. Terrifically effective at warding off malevolence. 

After an hour, a deep torpor had smothered me and nursed me to sleep. In a vivid dream, Uncle Norris was lurching toward me with a riding crop, purple faced and wearing a bonnet and a wedding dress. Whizzed out of there like warm weasel waste off a wet walking-stick. 

Be good
Nick

Pic: www.victorianweb.org

Sadhouse

Autumn of 1689. Jezebel James had latched on to me, I suspect beguiled by my burgeoning success as a financial advisor.  I'd spent months in Dorset demonstrating how first time investors might double their income within a year by speculating on the guaranteed success of a weather control machine.  Nice people but extraordinarily gullible. A small iron kettle boiled away inside a trunk and puffed creamy white steam through a hole in the lid.

Sod's law, it slashed down for a week.  Investors,  facing agricultural ruin, started to get twitchy. Poor old Jezebel got the blame. ..too pleasant. .mole on her cheek.. talked to dogs.. scratched her head once..obviously in league with the devil.

They tied her to a post, set amongst twigs and planks, and cuffed me. Accused the poor mite of being a witch. ..the Curate read from the bible, crossing his chest and looking skywards for guidance.  Men came forward with blazing torches and set the wood alight. Jez squeaked in horror, looked at me, winked and turned into a buzzard. Lifted me with her talons and took me into the clouds. Cool chick
Be good
Nick

Witch

1713, Devon
I'd had a remarkably sparkly run of luck on the old cards so I'd shot off to the relative peace of deepest Devon to guzzle my winnings. Local pub was a disappointing 3 mile galumph from my digs, but most homely once there. After an impressive bout of gulping and storytelling I asked the barman to get me a carriage to take me home, whilst I passed water.
Standing outside, a shambling lump of a man was guiding a pig towards me with a stout stick.
"'Orse got colic" he said "only got the 'og". 
"You're not serious? "
"Course I am..locals use it all the time"
"How will it know where to go?"
"Steer his ears and keep saying 'biscuits '..be there in no time!"
I clambered on and it snorted slobber on the ground. I said biscuits a few times before the oafish man gave it a rasping smack on the behind with the stick.
Shot off at incredible speed, my teeth jangling and my poor old radishes taking a terrific pounding. Slobber sketted into my face as he took ditches and hedgerows with ease. His trotters were a pale pink blur in the moonlight. Back at my digs in no time. The Landlady stood on the doorstep,  arms crossed.  
"Rent?" She said harshly.
"Aah.. I er..brought you a present instead" I said pointing at the panting hog. "Bacon for breakfast,  please ma'am"
Be good
Nick

Manic Hogride

This is what I did.
Fast asleep now
Time was our only enemy 
Be good
Nick

Twenty Winks

Nicholas Ridiculous