Too Many Strings (playlist)

Here's a new track more in the vein of my last EP, Exile.  I may continue to explore this and make a follow up.

Entropy

"Prelude in Despair" paints a soundscape of tangled thoughts, obsessive fixation, and the profound ache of a futile struggle. This prelude stands as a complete and powerful narrative of anguish, perfect for cinematic scenes of introspection, loss, and unresolved tension.

Prelude In Despair

MANIC MONDAY
Original song written by Prince & recorded by The Bangles
Version by Overdrive & Antoine Guigan

"Manic Monday" is a song by the American pop rock band The Bangles, and the first single released from their second studio album, Different Light (1986). It was written by American musician Prince using the pseudonym "Christopher" and was originally intended for the group Apollonia 6 in 1984. Lyrically, it describes a woman who is waking up to go to work on Monday, wishing it was still Sunday so she could continue relaxing. The single, released by Columbia Records on Monday January 27, 1986, received generally positive reviews from music critics and some comparisons with The Mamas & the Papas' "Monday, Monday". It became The Bangles' first hit, reaching number two in the United States and the United Kingdom, as well as in Austria, Canada, Germany and Ireland, and peaked within the top five in Australia, New Zealand, Norway and Switzerland. It was later certified silver in the UK by the British Phonographic Industry (BPI).
(https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/2356591/bangles/manic%20monday)


KINDNESS INC

Musical project by French singer and instrumentalist Antoine Guigan, a musician heavily influenced by hip hop, electro, and folk. He has an incredibly powerful voice and is a skilled melodica player. I recommend visiting his excellent Soundcloud page: https://soundcloud.com/kindnessinc

Antoine's first EP is available on all platforms: ffm.to/sailors-ep

LYRICS

Six o'clock already
I was just in the middle of a dream
I was kissin' Valentino
By a crystal blue Italian stream
But I can't be late
'Cause then I guess I just won't get paid
These are the days
When you wish your bed was already made

It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my fun day
My I don't have to run day
It's just another manic Monday

Have to catch an early train
Got to be to work by nine
And if I had an air-o-plane
I still couldn't make it on time
'Cause it takes me so long
Just to figure out what I'm gonna wear
Blame it on the train
But the boss is already there

It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my fun day
My I don't have to run day
It's just another manic Monday

All of the nights
Why did my lover have to pick last night
To get down
Doesn't it matter
That I have to feed the both of us
Employment's down
He tells me in his bedroom voice
C'mon honey, let's go make some noise
Time it goes so fast
(When you're having fun)

It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my fun day
My I don't have to run day
It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my fun day
It's just another manic Monday

Manic Monday

Klangmoebel-Soundtracks, Vol. 4: Harry

Cease to Exist

occhi

This song was composed in memory of my little girl, who passed away a year ago. It's a tribute filled with love and nostalgia, a musical offering that seeks to embrace her memory. The melody is built on soft melodic pianos and enveloping guitars, accompanied by harmonious synthesizers that create an ethereal atmosphere. The sounds of the sea and the songs of sirens emerge like echoes of the soul, representing a bridge between this world and hers. Each note is a caress, each chord a tear turned into light. It's a farewell that refuses to relent, a whisper to heaven that says, "You'll always be with me."
Song Video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7v-S7oHq6I

Fly Angel Chloe

“Dead Me” is a dark, cinematic blend of EDM, electro and alternative rock.
A haunting voice from a femme fatale echoes through cold beats and electric tension.
It's not a love song. It’s a warning. You’re already hers.
Welcome to Dead Me.

Dead Me

Dead Me - KRT Production

Album Title: After The Bat Was Freed ... But Before Metal Died 

An Ozzy Requiem

Description:

This is more than an album. This is a requiem. A two-part rock opera epic exploring the complete life, legacy, and psychological journey of a rock and roll icon. Performed by the virtual progressive metal band Adelheide's Wisdom.

LP 1: "After The Bat Was Freed ... But Before Metal Died"
A nine-act narrative that chronicles the rise and reflection of a legend. The journey begins in the industrial haze of 1960s Birmingham, capturing the spark of a Beatles-inspired dream ("The Day The Bat Was Freed"). It crashes through the chaotic birth of a new sound ("Sounds Like a Bunch of Cats Fightin'"), explores the creation of the demonic "Madman" persona ("They Call Me The Madman"), and descends into the self-destructive excesses of the 80s ("Wings of Sin"). The album finds its emotional core in the heartbreaking ballad "I Was Just A Dreamer," before culminating in a final, monumental tribute to the man behind the myth ("Prince of Eternal Fire").

9. Funeral of the Prince of Darkness
The fans' farewell: The finale of the main album. A loud, defiant, and proud metal anthem from the perspective of the fans who carry on the legacy. This is not a sad goodbye; it's a roar of eternal loyalty.

Funeral of the Prince of Darkness

for you

The original version of this song by The Infinity Chamber has an attractive and captivating Pink Floyd vibe to it. That beautiful, melancholic style is what drew me to the song from the beginning. The lyrics, both provocative and moving, still leave me wondering and imagining.

https://soundcloud.com/theinfinitychamber/the-delicate-art-of-reflection?si=00450f0a6093431ebffdc3c80daa0823&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

The song depicts a bedroom scene through the eyes of a man who starts to doubt his relationship, his life and life in general and tries to step away from it all. The brutally honest way in which this epiphany of gloom was put into words, generates unexpected sympathy and aversion at the same time. Once the sadness behind the lyrics sinks in, you are helplessly building sympathy for both characters in the scene and that final: “I went and got pissed”, doesn’t even sound mean anymore. It sounds like he deserves the relief.

I hope my version of it does the work justice.

The Delicate Art of Reflection

Der Raum vor der Halle
Ich sitze vor einer großen Halle. Ihr Eingang gähnt wie ein Fluchtpunkt, gezogen von der Geometrie der Ferne. Der Beton unter meinen Füßen speichert die Wärme eines Tages, der nichts erklärt hat. Und doch wird es mir hier klar: Wir denken und denken — über Dinge, Menschen, Möglichkeiten. Gedanken wie Tunnel, gebaut aus Vermutungen, durch die wir stur geradeaus marschieren, ohne je nach links oder rechts zu tasten.
Niemand hält inne. Kaum jemand fragt, ob das, was er für wahr hält, sich nicht längst verschoben hat. Denn Zeit zum Abweichen nimmt sich keiner — man bleibt in seiner Vorstellung von Welt und von Mensch. Dabei müsste man: raus aus dem Denken, rein in die Aktion. In die Interaktion. In ein Sein, das nicht nach Lehrbuch geformt ist, sondern aus dem lebt, was eben gerade da ist.
Ich bin da. Und ich bin nicht gedacht.
Ich will nicht nach den Linien tanzen, die andere mit Spiegelstrichen unter ihre Gedanken setzen. Ich will keine glatte Argumentation, keine polierte These. Ich bin keine Textsorte. Ich bin kein Beispiel. Ich bin einfach. Mein Körper tut, was er kann — warum also nicht auch mein Geist ohne Anleitung?
Ausgerechnet hier, draußen, sollte das doch möglich sein. In dieser Ecke, wo die Gesellschaft ihre verkrusteten Raster verlässt. Aber nein. Hier treffen sich die, die keinen Platz mehr haben. Und weil viele von ihnen einmal gebrochen wurden, sind sie vorsichtig, misstrauisch, schnell in der Annahme: Du könntest einer von den „Rückfalltypen“ sein. Ich spreche von 23 Jahren Trockenheit. Ich spreche vom B-Zell-Lymphom. Und man fragt mich, ob ich Heroin nehme.
„Ich bin die Christiane F des Lymphoms“, sag ich. Und sie hören nur: Junkie. Nicht: Kämpferin. Nicht: Autorin. Nicht: Stimme in der Dunkelheit.
Doch ich bin keine Entgleisung. Ich bin keine Warnung. Ich bin voller Leben. Ich mache Musik mit meinem Kater, mit Murschel, jeden Tag, jeden Klang ein Beweis, dass ich noch da bin. Ich schreibe, weil ich nicht schweigen kann. Und ich schweige, weil manche Worte mir nichts sagen.
Ich liebe das Leben — gerade weil ich weiß, wie zerbrechlich es ist. Und ich bleibe zurückgezogen, nicht aus Angst, sondern aus Achtung. Ich verschwende keine Energie, ich lenke sie. Mein Sein ist eine Melodie. Und die spielt innen.
Was von außen kommt, ist mir egal. Das Geblubber, die Stimmen, die Urteile. Ich lasse mir nichts sagen. Ich muss auch nicht erklärt werden. Ich bin nicht euer Projektionsraum. Ich bin Künstler. Und das heißt: Ich lebe nach innen. Ich höre, was ich selbst bin. Ich höre auf meine innere Symphonie.
Ich sitze noch immer vor der Halle. Dieselbe Struktur, dieselbe Perspektive. Aber die Gedanken sind längst weitergezogen. Der Boden ist wie ein Echo – nicht meiner Worte, sondern meiner Zweifel. Als ob jeder Kiesel mir sagen will: „Ihr denkt und denkt.“ Und ich frage zurück: „Aber wer weicht aus?“
Im Tunnel des Denkens verlieren sich die Menschen in Mustern. Glauben, sie bewegen sich, obwohl sie längst stehen. Und ich – ich stehe wirklich. Ich bleibe stehen, und das ist meine Bewegung.

 Man will Konzepte. Kapitelüberschriften. Erklärungen. Man will Spiegelstriche unter Gedanken setzen, als wären sie Aufgaben in einem Prüfungsheft. Aber Leben ist keine Hausarbeit. Leben ist keine These. Und ich bin kein Beispiel, das man zitieren kann.

Ich bin Künstler. Und das heißt: Ich höre zu – nicht den anderen, sondern mir selbst. Ich höre die innere Symphonie. Und das reicht...

Die Fortsetzung folgt am nächsten Sonntag um 10:00h

der_raum_vor_der_halle

Iris - Fleursonseaux
All rights reserved - © Copyright

Iris

drugs

A Melodrama

[Verse 1]
Every time I see you, Kylie, my world starts to spin,
You walk in slow motion, pull me right back in,
You say you love me, then you ghost me again,
You play your games, girl, it’s a beautiful sin.

I tried to move on but your shadow still stays,
Got me lost in your eyes like a neon maze,
You say “forever” then you fade away,
And I still fall for you anyway.

[Chorus]
Kylie, you swerve my heart like a midnight ride,
One look from you and I lose my mind,
You’re poison and honey at the same damn time,
Why can’t I let you go, can’t cut the line?
Kylie, you’re a bad gal, love gone wrong,
Still I’m addicted to your favorite song,
Heartbreak, romance, the same old crime,
Kylie, why you mess with my mind?

[Verse 2]
We fight, we make up, it’s a movie scene,
Love in slow motion, cruel and serene,
You kiss me soft, but your heart’s unclean,
You smile like an angel, but you reign like a queen.

You’re dancing on the edge, and I’m falling below,
Chasing your fire but it’s cold as snow,
Every time I leave, you pull me close,
This off-and-on love’s got me comatose.

[Chorus]
Kylie, you swerve my heart like a midnight ride,
One look from you and I lose my mind,
You’re poison and honey at the same damn time,
Why can’t I let you go, can’t cut the line?
Kylie, you’re a bad gal, love gone wrong,
Still I’m addicted to your favorite song,
Heartbreak, romance, the same old crime,
Kylie, why you mess with my mind?

[Verse 3]
I saw your name light up on his phone,
And suddenly the truth was shown,
You said it’s nothing, but your eyes betrayed,
All the little secrets you never said.

Still I crave your touch, I crave your kiss,
Every heartbreak leads me back to this,
You twist my soul, girl, it’s dangerous,
But I can’t stop loving your wickedness.

[Chorus]
Kylie, you swerve my heart like a midnight ride,
One look from you and I lose my mind,
You’re poison and honey at the same damn time,
Why can’t I let you go, can’t cut the line?
Kylie, you’re a bad gal, love gone wrong,
Still I’m addicted to your favorite song,
Heartbreak, romance, the same old crime,
Kylie, why you mess with my mind?

[Verse 4]
Now I’m staring at the city lights,
Thinking 'bout us, the endless fights,
You’re somewhere dancing through the night,
While I’m still bleeding from your bite.

But maybe heartbreak’s just the cost of love,
Falling for a girl I can’t get enough,
Kylie, you’re chaos from up above,
And I’m still trapped in your wicked love.

[Final Chorus]
Kylie, you swerve my heart like a midnight ride,
One look from you and I lose my mind,
You’re poison and honey at the same damn time,
Why can’t I let you go, can’t cut the line?
Kylie, you’re a bad gal, love gone wrong,
Still I’m addicted to your favorite song,
Heartbreak, romance, the same old crime,
Kylie, girl, you mess with my mind.


KYLIE 💔

Awareness. Świadomość.

I was inspired by the Woman of Valour acrostic poem in Proverbs 31, but I have changed the words considerably, to make it more about an indigenous shamanic tribal woman. Plus I mixed in some shamanic drumming and also a field recording of a woman chanting at a fire ceremony.

Woman of Fire

Groove Patrol

be_someone

When those 70's TV cops showed up with big dangerous sideburns, you knew somebody was gonna take a ride downtown, turkey!

Too Many Strings (playlist)

Phil Seatins