Soundcloud discoveries - sentimental indie, grunge, folk, rock

Canny man! just a smidgen of some of the amazingly talented artists stalking the SoundCloud boards.   The picture is one I took at the beautiful Clumber park in Nottingham.

crawling to the sun soundtrack

A playlist of songs that I first recorded between January and July 2022. Taken from the albums Spuk 3-7.

2022: A Satellite in the Sky

SpukSchreibMaschine

Ah, little Jenny Tucker.
Reputation as a looker.
Walking up and down on her beat.
Bin by the sands.
More than holding hands.
With her high-heeled shoes on her feet.
Says it's alright.... It's alright... it's alright...
It's alright.... It's alright... it's alright...

Oh, I feel like I should go.
But I guess you'd never know.
So I always stay.
Now there's no walking away.
But it's alright... It's alright... it's alright... 

A real easy lady.
To anything, she says, "Maybe."
Her doors open usually.
But she caught me at a bad time in my life.
One another had me down on my knees.
But it's alright... it's alright..  it's alright...
It's alright.... It's alright... it's alright...

Am I wasting my time on you?
I only wanted to screw.
Now I've gotta pay.
If I walk away.
But it's alright... it's alright... it's alright... 

Trapped with you by circumstance.
I never stood a fucking chance.
You made all decisions you see.
before the thought occurred to me. 
It's alright... it's alright... it's alright.. 
It's alright.... It's alright... it's alright...

My drinking days were hindering.
I didn't know where to begit.
To get away from you, my sweet.
To cast aside that thing called...
It's alright... it's alright... it's alright... 
It's alright.... It's alright... it's alright...

It's alright.

Jenny was wandering alone around the town.
Trusting to providence to not let her down.
Hoping to snatch, a happening from the night air.
Forgetting all her worries and her manifold fears. 

See, Jenny has numerous problems in life.
Learned not to care about it, to take the strife.
Wittle away at everything that she owned.
She never thought to let out, a cry or a moan. 

Ah, Jenny was kicked out of care at sixteen.
Sat on a wall, to eat her pudding.
The opposite thing, were all that she'd ever known.
A mattress in a bedsit, the only thing that she owned. 

So, Jenny was viewing the storm from above.
She expected nothing, not least to go up.
Going to war, with expected fancies.
She could charm the snakes, out from under a tree. 

A pretty face like yours could get you away.
If you had a head on your shoulders to say.
"I don't want this, I don't want anything more."
But it's easier to buy your gifts from a store. 

Jenny's not strong enough to stand it for long.
All of the choices she made had been  wrong.
A man for tomorrow, another one for yesterday.
The things in your way, a bomb to blow them away. 

While the night ain't over.
While the night is moving. 

It's alright. 

Jenny says, "You're out of her life."
She's never gonna be your wife. 

Jenny says, "you've gone too far."
She's driving off in your fast car. 

Jenny says, "fuck you shes done."
You'll never find where she has gone. 

It's alright. 

Jenny is stepping right up to the plate.
Jenny is standing at the starting gate.
Jenny is leaving us, Jenny is off into space.
A selfless sacrifice, which at least she can face. 

Jenny's a mystery, Jenny's a bore.
Jenny was crying out for a bit more.
Jenny took everything, whilst the cat was away.
Jenny says there was nothing left for you to pay. 

Jenny has LSD in a small bag.
Jenny has fingers to take off the tags.
I don't want this life, I don't want anything more.
Rid of the things in her way, with the tools to make them all pay.

Jenny's a superstar, Jenny's a tramp.
Jenny has no one in this world to thank.
Jenny's got soldiers, lined up next to her egg.
Ah, making you beg, a scar at the top of her leg.

The Ballad of Jenny Tucker

Oh, John was born out of wedlock,
to family in the frozen north.
In the early winter, nineteen eighty-two.
Not that he knew anything of it,
but they were poor as fucking shit,
and there was nothing that anyone could do.

The world is full of colour and the world is full of light.
The world is full of people who get paid.
But his family they weren't one of them.
All squandered in the night.
The fifty p's were going down the drain.

His father, an electricians mate.
Some food was going on the plate.
His mum stayed at home as mother's do.
And, John was not aware of it,
but oil and water do not mix,
and they were just a pair of mismatched fools.

The world is full of youngsters with no business to procreate.
Their worldview way too small to make the grade.
And their children bear the brunt of all these juvenile mistakes.
That's just the way it is and shall remain.

Oh, the world was neon tinged bit drab.
The curtains brown, the young ones mad.
The madness of the times was plain to hear.
But, John was young and didn't know,
how far his start in life could take him,
once he was awake and self aware.

Oh, the world is filled with fears, but you're just too young to know.
You can't yet see the way that things can be.
You lay within your childhood home, protected from the snow.
But, things go on that you just do not see.

Four years later, things went bad.
His mum, his sister, not his dad.
Were running down the hill to get away.
To get away from things not seen in Johnny-boy's most lucid dreams.
To get away and never once look back.

The world is full of colour, and the world is full of light.
The world is full of people who escape.
Escape from possibilities that never last the night.
The price, too much for the women to pay.

Can you hear the monsters that are hiding in the forest?
Can you hear the monsters?
They're just over there.
Be careful of your noise, or the monsters will hear you.
They'll hear you. 
The monsters are just over there.

Can you see the monsters wandering around the houses?
Can you see the monsters?
They're right over here.
The monsters are among us.
The monsters must have heard you.
They've heard you, the monsters, in houses, right there.

John, look at the monsters I've created for you.
John, look at the monsters writhing over there.
John, do me a favour, tell them about the monsters.
The monsters, just for you, created, right there.

John, have I ever told you that you're like a monster?
At least you look just like the ones that I just saw.
I took that piece of weakness and created you this monster.
A monster, you're just like, stood there by the door.

With only a blunted knife, you head into the forest.
Hoping to keep all of the monsters away.

Monsters

Just Like You

(Written by Terry Reeves)
Terry Reeves: Lead & Backing Vocals
Gary Reeves: Drums
Hans Albers: All other instruments, Arrangement & Production

When you take into consideration that modern footballers have infinitely better equipment and technical assistance at their disposal, George Best's stats (not that I’m a great fan of these) show what a great player he was. I certainly never saw a player who could do what he could with a football. He was the first footballer to transcend the sports pages and become what we now term ‘a celebrity’. Today’s players are protected from the pressures he experienced but George was always surrounded by people who merely wanted to bathe in his reflected light and take advantage of his generosity. His slide into alcoholism is well documented but, had he played under today’s conditions, his life may have been totally different.

I was fortunate enough to meet him on three occasions and on one of those had the pleasure of just the two of us sitting at a table, sharing our love for football. It probably only lasted about twenty minutes but it meant the whole world to me because he seemed genuinely interested in everything I had to say. He even told me he could speak to Matt Busby and get me a trial at Man. Utd. To this day I regret not taking him up on the offer, not because I thought I was the next George Best but to have my hero offer a trial at the club I supported was something never to be forgotten.

Many years later, I reached a time when drink became my escape from everything and looking back, it scares me to remember how easy it was to become so dependent. I was very lucky to have been rescued by a wonderful woman who gave me a true reason to be. If you've never been utterly dependent on something it’s difficult to realise how much it totally controls your life and the experience certainly gave me a window into George’s world.

As far as I’m concerned, he was the greatest football player that ever lived - even the great Pele said, “George Best is a footballer without comparison”. This is why I say, "Come back Georgie!"

Hans’ brilliant arrangement and Gary’s power drumming give musical wings to my honest tribute to George and I owe them both the deepest of thanks for that. If you listen closely, you’ll be able to hear what the man himself thinks about his football career and I totally agree with every word. Many thanks for listening. (Terry Reeves)

An addendum. You all need to know just how good a footballer Tel was. I watched him play schoolboy football and he was always the best player on the pitch, leading his teams to the winning of many trophies. But for injury problems (he had his leg broken twice) he could have played professional football. I had the privilege of playing Sunday League football with him and his skills were light years ahead of everyone else. In one game, he scored with a shot from the halfway line and this was a good 15/20 years before David Beckham did it. He was special. (Gary Reeves)

Yes I drank the bottle dry
Please don't ask the question why
Just accept this drunken man
Drinking for another plan

Couldn't take things in my stride
Second place it hurt my pride
Told to take some time to think
Think I'll have another drink

CHORUS:
Yes he's the greatest, he really has it all
The king of any man who ever kicked a ball
He makes the headlines every time he shows his face
I wonder if they know our hero up in space?
If not it's just a disgrace
He's here
Georgie 
No fear

Tried to force me to retire
From the bottle I admire
Knew I'd lose out in the end
Destroying me or my best friend

Belong to no one else but me
I'm not public property
I know I have myself to blame
Life is not my favourite game

CHORUS

It's not as sad as you might think
Not looking for a missing link
And I don't need an open door 
Cause all I have to do is pour

Georgie, Georgie come back Georgie...

BEST OF BOTH WORLDS (V1) - CRIPPLE CLUB & HANS ALBERS

Original track....
https://soundcloud.com/windscaleblues/outer-shell-spinner?utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
chased by unpublished 'Centrifuge'....

[Picture courtesy of Phillipe-d-uxn Unsplash]

Centri Fugue

Oh, don't try that bullshit with me, my dear.
Or I'll be giving you a wave.
Your fantasies are growing out of hand.
Just one more on my list to save.

I'm the one that showed you all the secret ways.
Paths to avoid; how to behave.
You've taken all these gifts that I bestowed on you.
Turned them to something in your brain.

Oh, c'est la vie.
You say to me.
Because we're only here once.
You don't follow.
Advice (to) say no.
Your first reaction is to plunge.

The path to twisted logic is not paved with gold.
The years of struggle take their toll.
Although I don't excuse the things you've done.
It's hard to dig out of a hole.

A story in your mind is not the same as truth.
A fort that's built on shifting sands.
The tide of time came in and cut you off.
Its waters covered up your lands.

Oh, c'est la vie.
You say to me.
This is the only chance we get.
(I) don't want to know.
Your problems, though.
And no one's giving you a gett.

A shout from afar.
There's a message you're missing. 
There's are signs coming up.
You should read.
Their letters unopened.
Their warnings unheaded.
In the absence of reason.
You can't breathe.

This is a final reminder.
A notice they're serving.
An advertising campaign on TV. (x2)
The path that you're on.
It's the wrong road you've taken.
The deadly silence in between.
This is the silence in between.

Oh, don't give me that nonsense there's beauty in truth.
You beat the fuckers to the punch.
I've always been a cynic I worry too much.
Won't always get you a free lunch. 

Your mother always told you "we don't hold a grudge".
But, you can't seem to let it go.
She doesn't know you cos you hide it all so well.
Select few people in the know.

Oh, c'est la vie.
Live fast and free?
Only the foolish that stay young.
Forever goes, on through the snow.
You're best placed if you are amongst.
Oh, c'est la vie.
You say to me.
"Will they forgive me in the end?"
Before I go.
A sign to show.
There's certain things that you can't mend.

Caught in the middle.
A crook and a fork in the road.
You took what you wanted.
And never thought to give back some.
To all the people who helped you to make your way up.
All the things that you did trying to make sure that they would say.
"You're okay".
You used your advantage to pull the wool over her eyes.
Never imagining we could see straight through your straight through your lies.
The depths that you'd sink to.
Just to appear to be sound.
It got to the point when nobody wanted you around.
In the town.
A drink in the morning to stop you from wretching means nowt.
It's better to keep it all in than to let all out.
Nobody wants to hear about your childhood you know.
If you won't move on from it, then you won't have any room to grow.
All for show.

Oh, don't you tell me c'est la vie.
When you don't practice what you preach.

A chat with the neighbours upon whom you always impress.
Exacting credentials, oh, you wear your heart on your chest.
"Don't listen to anything anyone says about me".
You say with a grin as you walk to the shop for your beers.
"I'll say cheers"
Nobody's saying that you had it easy you know.
But that doesn't mean that you can just be a bastard and go.
Off on a tangent on any vaguely similar theme.
That makes you look brilliant at least in your mind as you scheme.
In your dreams.

Oh, don't you tell me c'est la vie.
When you don't practice what you preach. [x2]

It's the bitterness seeping out of you in a giant cloud.
What a clown.

It's been so long that it really isn't the same in this town.
In fact things are better now that you are never around.
Like a bad smell that we just couldn't get to go away.
You stay for a week when you promised to stay for a day.
I must say.
You borrowed some money, hoping that you'd find your way home.
Never stopping to think.
Or thanking your folks for the loan.
I don't know what it is but there's just something off with your tone.
A slight whiff of violence.
You're just like a dog with a bone.
A no go.

Narcissistic.
C'est la vie.



C'est la Vie

Another collaboration with the magnificent @georg-boehme at clarinets and alto sax.

Composition and all arrangements: Francesco Cartocci

Le cose che non ho - with Georg Boehme

Sugar Plum

One fine morning
Sat on double time.
Doing nothing.
While the flowers shine. 

You were always electric you were Always a star.
With the right guidance you could really go far.
you just wouldn't listen to the advice that I gave.
Just kept repeating the same old mistakes.

Since you're not here
I've been doing fine.
Almost wiped you.
clearing my mind.

It's easy to say looking back down the line.
But you were a massive waste of my Time.
You caused loads of hassle you weren't sent from above.
A promise you made. a promise of love.

You don't see the world in colour
You don't see the world in light. 
You only see the bad things in your life. 
The world is filled with people
With the wool over their eyes.
it comes as no surprise.

You were always electric, you were kissed by the fire.
A dead weight that meant that. I could never go far.
Never particularly happy with me.
A second class person, a useless degree.

Glad to watch you
Go on your way.
Whilst I sit here.
On a new day. 

It's easy to say now I've forgotten your face.
I'm not even sure I was involved in the race.
You tried to break me but I just wouldn't bend.
It's definitely me who is returned in the end.

You don't see the multicolor.
You don't see the hazy light.
You've never stopped to think about the stars.
The world is full of people who can never sever ties
So it comes as no surprise.

You don't see the best in people.
You don't try to use your mind.
You're only out to see what you can take.
The world is full of people who put tears into your mind.
So it comes as no surprise.

Always Electric

Matt Hancock

Haven't Seen The Sun

Look at The Sun [Nancy Pie]

Days in the Sun

Catfish And The Bottlemen - Sidewinder

A remaster of the original from 2022.

Lyrics

I guess I'm all out of heroes.
I tried to make one of you.
In the confusion of youth
I met guards I could not get through.

Your useless defense is.
To be quite offended.
And not look me in the eye. 
Yeah. 

There isn't such a thing as heroes.
It's all a little white lie.
We tell ourselves to feel better 
They're all just trying to get by.

It's just circumstances
Them people took chances.
So bring them down from the sky. 
Yeah

I only had simple heroes.
The type you see every day. 
A normal man or a woman.
Turns out to be quite two faced.

When it comes to the crunch, 
then you just come out punching.
And find no one by your side. 
Yeah. 

Heroes fly away. 
Heroes come to play. 
Heroes for a day. 

No invite to come out to play.
A betrayal but not to your face.
A pedestal no longer on.
They don't know the words to your songs.
An excuse instead of a face. 
Not even aware of the race.
A blanket ban on the children.
And they've never spent very long. 



No Heroes

Oh, it was alright at the start.
But then you drank too much, and things just start to slowly fall apart.
And it'll be alright in the end.
And all the other bullshit coming from your friends.

Don't talk that fucking shit to me.
You know exactly how this goes.
You can't do nothing and expect things just to change.
Been down the road.
Cigarettes and Alcohol.

You got yourself some little tart.
Kidding yourself that you're so much better than you are.
They all think you're a fucking dick.
Be better if it didn't take you years to realise it.

Don't talk that fucking shit to me.
You know exactly how this goes.
You best do something if you're wanting shit to change.
Been down the road.
Cigarettes and Alcohol.

So you pour yourself another drink,
And you're gipping in your kitchen sink.
There's empty cans hidden in every hole.

And you're kidding no one but yourself.
There's no escaping mental health.
Reflection staring back all pale and gaunt.

The fun has gone it passed you by.
Old Red eyes they don't even cry.
They only get more angry at the world.

The only solution's another drink.
Another drink and, another drink.
That familiar feeling, all safe and warm.

Don't talk that fucking shit to me.
You know exactly how this goes.
Give it three days and you'll be rid of the fucking shakes.
Been down the road.
Cigarettes and Alcohol.

Cigarettes and Alcohol [2023]

Old Love

I want to live in a world unknown,
under a great big dome,
where life runs away
- that's where I will stay.

To think how easy my life would be,
under the deep blue sea;
and the ocean can hide
all I feel inside.

I remember a single spark,
long ago, but now everything is dark.

She said that I wanna live alone,
under a great big dome,
where life runs away
- that's where I will stay.

She said she don't wanna live with me,
under a great big tree;
under leaves I hide
all I feel inside.

Love is a simple ride,
when you're alone it is simplified..

So now I live my life alone,
under a great big dome,
and she's not around;
I'm no longer bound.

Love is a simple ride,
when you're alone it is simplified.
Under the dome that's where I died.


Great Big Dome

A Church That Fits Our Needs

Neither Here Nor There

'88' - a song for our fellow 'prisoners' at Bowen Penitentiary, who also had to endure 88 days of back breaking farmwork in order to secure another Australian visa.

Written & Performed by HeavyHeads
Produced & Mixed by Fraser Montgomery @ The Aviary, Abbotsford (Melbourne, Australia)
Engineered by Nick Edin
Mastered by Adam Dempsey @ Jack The Bear
Copyright 2016

We are the music makers. We are the dreamers of dreams.



