Brilliant track, your violin playing is transcendental

Always appreciate creative experimentation like this. Surprising details all the way through. Love the ending!

Sublime. WHy haven't you released an album? I want it! I want it now!!! :)

intriguing start... much tension directly in the beginning

masterfully played - here I can imagine the piece in a suspense movie

very successful journey through sounds...sounds good...!👍

...thats a little spooky - what happens around the next corner...? Wonderful piece of music!!!

You've captured the underbelly of the rail travel experience, and all the loaded history that comes with it. At least that is how I am interpreting it. Wonderful work, regardless.

Resonator 29

Campers  

My parents were campers, we wandered around
We washed in the river and slept on the ground
With a kerosine lantern to see by at night 
And aluminum cups full of Crystal Delight

They’re all gone forever after only awhile
To me it was not about nothing
It was more than a signature style

I gave him a hundred, which was all that I got
I fired her up and I drove off the lot
She was painted by hand, but tipping the scales
Was a sticker that showed my concern for the whales

She’s all gone forever after only awhile
To me she was not about nothing
She was more than a signature style

My mind is in order my soul is inspired
In robe and in sandals I’m simply attired
And I live in this place with these brothers of mine
Where we think, and we pray, and we fast all the time

Till we’re all gone forever after only awhile
To me it is not about nothing
It’s more than a signature style

Copyright Scott Culver Thomson

Campers

unnamed station

Lyrics;
He's got some battle scars
From walking on this earth
More or less he'd earned them all
Whatever that is worth

He's not the man he used to be
He stands in thinner skin
Worn down from the grindstone
And the world he once lived in

Experience had left a mark
Lighting up a world so dark
No more running blindly
Full speed ahead

Cut up, bruised and battered
So many dreams get shattered
From foolish things that he once did
Foolish things that he once said

He's got some battle scars
From living day to day
The price of going on his own
When he didn't know the way

On full display for all to see
Like medals from his private wars
The breaks the nicks the broken heart
Yeah, he's got some battle scars

Experience had left a mark
Lighting up a world so dark
No more running blindly
Full speed ahead

Cut up, bruised and battered
So many dreams left shattered
From foolish things he once believed
Foolish things that he once said

Battle Scars

A blast through Interstellar Overdrive to help you achieve lift off :)
Tez - guitars, organ (B9 pedal)and production
Josh - bass, guitars and organ
Ken - drums

Interstellar Overdrive - with Entheogenic Psychonaut (Josh Clary) and K2 and The Three

Last Time- Original Song by:

Weird composition for mallets and pizzicato strings. Hope you enjoy!

22 3 6

A bit of a muck around, put an old keyboard through a Boss Delay pedal to see how it sounds and built it up from there.  Enjoy

How It All Goes

When Winter Ends

New EP available on Bandcamp -
moodexhibit.bandcamp.com/album/replicant-hearts

Replicant Hearts kicks off with it's title track, an epic 9 minutes of multi-sectional, constantly evolving electro techno. Then the 4 hearts are showcased, each with their own unique qualities. Peppy, Vital, Deeva, and Vizor have their own expressions, but they all share in a celebration of upbeat electronic sounds.

Mood Exhibit - Vizor

Music by Chad Lawson entitled "Paper Shadows" https://soundcloud.com/chad-lawson

Happy Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month!

Kissing in Vietnamese
by Ocean Vuong https://poets.org/poem/kissing-vietnamese

My grandmother kisses
as if bombs are bursting in the backyard,
where mint and jasmine lace their perfumes
through the kitchen window,
as if somewhere, a body is falling apart
and flames are making their way back
through the intricacies of a young boy’s thigh,
as if to walk out the door, your torso
would dance from exit wounds.
When my grandmother kisses, there would be
no flashy smooching, no western music
of pursed lips, she kisses as if to breathe
you inside her, nose pressed to cheek
so that your scent is relearned
and your sweat pearls into drops of gold
inside her lungs, as if while she holds you
death also, is clutching your wrist.
My grandmother kisses as if history
never ended, as if somewhere
a body is still
falling apart.

Kissing in Vietnamese

I live playing...
живу играя...
(violin
скрипка)

 
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC75yod6RSSe4JLRdhnW8StA

unnamed station

rosin dust

Recent comments

Nadia Selvaggi Reposts

Christian Lutz

Brian Melt

SOUND23

Related tracks