Grabado en 2024   
No quería andar                            Em-A5-C
Con tan poca luz 
Aunque no quiera mirar 
Siempre veo esa cruz 
Sí tratas de llegar 
A cortar el dolor 
Es tu parte animal
Cuando dice que no 
Quema el lujo                      A5
Y quema la espera                      Em
Ahí afuera                              C-A5       
Vas por lo que queda                Em

AHI AFUERA

AVAILABLE ON ALL PLATFORMS DECEMBER 5th, 2024!

"Little Brother" is a soulful blues collaboration between Maeki Maii and Jason Langvee that explores the complexities of sibling relationships. With Jason’s emotive English vocals and Maeki's warm French rap, the song balances heartfelt reminiscence with a message of resilience and support. The rich instrumentation, featuring bluesy guitar and smooth organ, creates a warm backdrop for a powerful narrative about love, protection, and the unbreakable bond between brothers.

Little Brother

Arco Iris- Ariel en Bicicleta

An instrumental version of a song originally written for Pong (Austin TX band)... 

The Safetool Sessions

Buy and Buy

“I found the Beacon of Hope, in the Heart of this Storm” 

From the new album “ Harsh Vulnerable” 
https://moodexhibit.bandcamp.com/album/harsh-vulnerable

Harsh Vulnerable album

Mood Exhibit - Beacon of Hope

F-Burning Library

Cast of characters:
Llanpsych -- @llanpsych -- Tez – Gibson Les Paul electric guitar, mix, production, and composition
Mistermark-- @user-432503709 -- Mark – synthesizer, claps, shakers, vocals, and lyrics
TexMex Shaman– @texmex-shaman –Stephen– Gibson Custom Shop Les Paul electric guitar
K2 and the Three [and the Four]--@k2andthe3, @k2-kara –Ken -- drums, percussion 
Entheogenic Psychonaught (Josh Clary)– @josh-clary-1 –Josh – Fender Precision four string bass
This song started as a guitar composition Tez came up with while on holiday recently. He wrote it with Eclectic Collective in mind, inspired by ZZ Top, and shared it with the rest of us as soon as he was able to return home and record it. 
  Stephen was first to the trough with this one, adding his thrilling guitar fills and solo. Being from Texas, too, he's no stranger to Biily Gibbons. Mark came next with some synth, and later added some claps and shaker. Ken put his rocking drums in after Mark, laying the groundwork for the groove. Josh completed the rhythm section with his bass soon after, though. Mark decided early on that he was going to add some vocals to this, and Stephen had to adjust his part to suit them. We're all really happy with not only Mark's lyrics, but especially his vocal performance, as well. Eclectic Collective now has a go to member of the band who know's what he's doing with his voice. 
  Once it was in the can, Tez decided to mix it, as it was his song to begin with. He did his always expert job with the task, too. 
  This is an example of Eclectic Collective getting down and dirty for a rocker that has the flavor of all of us firing on all cylinders. Special attention to both Tez and Mark for their inspiring generosity and hard work in conceptualizing this one, too. We all hope you enjoy listening to it as much as we enjoyed creating it.

Original lyrics by mistermark:

I got the top down, driving around
Burnin’ down the road, no prisoners
Everybody knows that I’m on the run  
I’m gettin’ outta here do or die 
Black Jack paddy whack listen to me 
ain’t giving no dog no bone
What’s mine is mine and what’s thine is thine
But if you want me just pick up the phone 
If you need my number I’m # 1
Mama raised me alone ‘cause I’m a son of a gun
Now I’m paying my dues but I’m almost done
So if you want a piece of me
Come and get me
Come and get me
Well, hey baby baby now what you say
You hitch a ride with me I’ll take you all the way 
she said hey there baby just step on the gas 
I got places to go I wanna get there fast
Well somewhere at around mile 103
I heard a rattling sound I had to check and see
We stopped right there on the side of the road 
Then what happened next it made my mind explode
The girl started laughing as she locked the door 
She put the pedal to the metal couldn’t push it no more 
Way off in the distance half a mile away 
My baby called out to me as I heard her say…
Come and get me
Come and get me
My feet got draggin’ in the desert sand
But as she waved goodbye something fell from her hand
I picked up the paper it was plain to see 
My baby wrote down her number and she left it for me
I been ‘buked & scorned I been thrown some shade 
I wanted revenge cause I gotsta get paid
I called her up but I just got the machine 
And wattaya think that the message said…

Come and get me

Come And Get Me-Eclectic Collective

Recording sessions from 14-09-2022 - 20-03-2025.
presets, mixing, processing and editing: Pier WILL.
________________________________________________________________________
🛠 - Made with MOOG & Modular / Multi-tracks / No I.A. / No samples.
🎹 - Composed, arranged, performed, produced by Pier WILL & 4H09
🔲 - Cover art - Pier WILL
🙏 - Acknowledgements - Ableton, AKG, Arturia, Audacity, Cantabile, 
Focusrite, Hewlett Packard, Korg, Logitech, M-Audio, MSI, Sony,
SoundCloud, Teac, Techniks, Yamaha.
________________________________________________________________________

AMBIENT_19

Ambient_19

Image created by me.
https://www.deviantart.com/leehon/art/Productivity-1159208167

Working With Entropy

/ emergency broadcast / emergency broadcast / emergency broadcast /
/
— rollout, transmission, odyssey begins — demo version drop

the incoming age of melancholy:
not simply an era nor a season, but the endless twilight borne of every choice and every surrender,
woven from the threads of every generation’s longing—now, at last, unraveling before our eyes.

it begins as a hush—
not even silence, but something deeper:
the collective holding of breath as we pass through threshold after threshold,
unwilling—unable—to look back
at what still burns on the distant altars,
the cost we never counted,
the price we always assumed someone else would pay.

here, the mountains are made not of stone but of unsent messages,
unspoken apologies, unreached hands.
here is the valley of sacrificed afternoons,
where children chase phantoms,
where memory loses its shape under blue electric light,
where elders recall the scent of rain on pages, the music of patience.
here, the rivers are sorrow and the bridges are compromise,
some scorched, some crossed in regret,
most never rebuilt.

who are we, now, on this side of the threshold?
we—the bold, the bruised, the lonely inheritors of immeasurable plenty and exquisite emptiness—
we raise towers in tribute to unseen gods,
wireless cathedrals and temples that promise everything and deliver
only the ache of again, again, again
another update, another offering, another blinking vigil.

in the age of melancholy, every blessing is double-edged.
comfort comes yoked to numbness;
speed, to the erasure of slow becoming;
certainty, to the narrowing of all that is possible
and the slow extinction of wild hope.

“what did you give for this?” asks the old voice inside—
and we hush it with data, with noise,
with things that will never love us back.

our gods are many—everywhere, nowhere—
famous for a season, then discarded,
as fickle as the pulse in a liquid crystal display.
once, gods demanded faith, sacrifice, story and song.
now, they demand only attention—
bring us your tired eyes, your restless mind, your need to be known.
and in return, they give us chains so beautiful,
we praise them as gifts.

but beneath the wafer-thin bounty, the banquet of quick joys—
the shadow:
for every god installed, something sacred is displaced,
every new device arrives with its own silent requirement
that some part of us—ancient, slow, shimmering—must be left behind.

still, we are the ones who choose, trembling though we are—
again and again, at every threshold:
the altar, the new coin of the realm,
purchase paid in what cannot be replaced.

no one warned us that all this ease would cost us ourselves,
that to belong to the gods of now is to mourn what made us human—
the bruises, the breaks, the precious awkwardness of becoming.

what is melancholy, in this thunderous shadow,
if not the noblest form of remembering?
not a sickness, but a wisdom, a refusal to let the soul’s lost countries be overrun
without one last prayer, one last song.

let us be brave enough to mourn,
bold enough for the trembling joy in sorrow—
to sit by the ghost-lit ruins of intimacy and warmth and hope,
and refuse the command to forget.

for in this age, courage lies not in the conquest of new things,
but in the deep humility of honoring what is lost—
the quiet grace of looking back, and bearing witness,
and speaking to the brave few who will listen:

remember—
before the gods of upgrade and speed,
we danced in forests, we bled and healed together,
we built fires for each other’s warmth,
we told stories that did not sell,
.........
may we, the humbled .....
........4'000 characters.. there's more to it, sorry....
/
artwork illustration by peter uertz, düsseldorf / germany
/
/ lyrics: fictionalive
/ music: a tiny excerpt of the epic mighty double dutch DJ Set
Kasheme's Local Digger Session w/ Murphy & Cavaliere Spruzzi (Save the Vinyl / monorecords)
https://soundcloud.com/kashemezurich/kashemes-local-digger-session-w-murphy-spruzzi-save-the-vinyl-monorecords

Incoming Age of Melancholy — Eternal Dusk Between Eras / The Last Custodians of the Old Music

DAY OFF

🐳Thank you for your support. It's very encouraging.🪼
🐱I do not use AI in my music.😊
🌺Have fun! Bandcamp!💞Thank you for your purchase!💞

F-Burning Library

Sanshu Seiso [Experimental Artist]