An interpretation of Phil Och's lyrics inspired by the Diamanda Galas version on "Malediction & Prayer"

Iron Lady (chain Music Edit)

Testaments

For the people of Ukraine & the People in Russia & all over this world who do not want this war, this murder, this brutality, this big bloody boot of dictatorship Putin embodies

The poet, Anna Akhmatova, reflecting on perseverance and luck in the face of governmental persecution orchestrating violence and deprivation against so many who would not survive



Beyond misery and madness, beyond
blitzes, tartars & prayers
for death, my life
dissolving autobiography
infinitely interchangeable
along time’s constant zeitgeist, the radium
of amnesia killing memory until, by surprise,
posthumous breaths again stoke the vision,
refute evidence of destruction:
TB, blacklisting, the beloveds taken away…
What is this, this something
which twitches like a cat
or snow slowly fanning to reveal,
in clear moments, Leningrad rooftops?
Hands, gazes, embrace chocolate earth,
the rich silt massaged and tossed forth
toward a sky bursting titanium.
Dark flakes hit the whiter,
a mixed squall against blue——
Knowledge, experience outlasting all which sought
to drive spirits down,
& succeeding in part
with the encampment of skin…
Here survival is not virtuous, but a fact
which nearly refrains from rejoicing
yet does not does not
for the soul is an oath swearing to witness
(water)
the sting of strife
(in the lungs)
and still
(with whatever voice is left)
sing

Testaments Choral Soliloquy Mix

I started working on cover versions in 2020, and the fact that I'm still working on them speaks as much to the fact that I work a day job as it does regarding the struggle for confidence to continue the work.  In other words, I try to do my best and it is painstaking for of course I want to pay homage to the original while getting to the marrow of what the lyrics, the heart of the song strum up - as far as a state of being goes - to the spirit the vocals speak through.  In this case, the song was pre-scient in some ways, and now the "little black box" mentioned is a symbol for cell phones, tablets, laptops, social media (tools utilized to supposedly bring humans closer) - in addition to the box world leaders are rumored to have for pressing a button to allow nuclear destruction - all a Pandora secret in the atmospherics I have tried to paint the words with.

DEEPER UNDERSTANDING (AMBIENT SOLITUDE MIX)

Track from "Whispers of Arias" This track and the "Whispers of Arias" project, like many of my tracks on Soundcloud is free to stream/download at Amazing Tunes, https://amazingtunes.com/stephenmead

                                                                       Joan Again

It wasn't a dark dream which crept over me,
not like my mother warned, but a real war
& what had to be done.  No,
how in the heavens could I possibly escape
the prophesy which chose me, though,
when it came, that's what I desired,
to be useful, in love with the land,
the people, swamped, not the bloodshed,
not the blood.

I saw no one as enemy really, in the beginning,
before accusations.  I saw only suffering
& tried hard to listen for an angel's voice.
Long through nights it wailed, whimpered
of potential stakes, & yet even while paying heed
to go on was my part, the part which meant lead.

My god, but I hated the violence, the triumphant waste,
as so many fell & fell thinking we are right, we are right,
convinced of that on both sides.

Were they then?  Are they now?
Lives lost in cannon's fire or hand to hand,
face to face, the combat of swords, even the one
which I carried, slaying no one, though arrow-pierced
& advancing high as a rippling, a certainly torched
& tattered flag.

It can yet be found, that riddling belief,
purely symbolic in the stones, the pellets flung
through headlines.  You know the names,
the territories & how many are coming forth?

How I would like to place my ear on each wrist
to hear the priceless booming heart
& have that humble echo amplified.
The I'd return to who I was
before all the wars & the voices, I confess,
the voices deaf deaf & blind to the outcome.

Joan Again (Song for Joan of Arc)

Tack from "Whispers of Arias", This track and the "Whispers of Arias" project, like many of my tracks on Soundcloud is free to stream/download at Amazing Tunes, https://amazingtunes.com/stephenmead

Blood Stained Shirt


I see no point in changing.
I see                no point.
We were an Us, then there
Was just me
Hoping it could happen, a wrong
Move, deliberately done, easy
Target crossing the line.
You never knew exactly when
You went over, the why, the
How, & I too was far from
Fathoming the motives
Of assassins, the signs, the
Shift in temperature, in air,
As if from a distant oil fire.

I believe it ill fortune
That the tank didn’t blow
When bullets hit our car.
I believed I was never more wild
Than while screaming:
Bastards, god damn you,
& smashing the wind shield.

I was wrong
I’m wilder now, the stinking
Sticky scarlet shroud,
A tattoo of you losing
What we held last
& I can not rest, let go
Of the moment when our blood
Is not mixed here on this cloth.

Where is an enemy to head toward,
Even lie under, so I can be sure
I am your ghost before morning,
Before the knowledge I do not want,
The point of you being
Not being
& that nothing

too much

7 Blood Stained Shirt (Dark Times Mix, Kevin Macleod Incompetech.com music)

Track from "Whispers of Arias", Volume Two. This track and the "Whispers of Arias" project, like many of my tracks on Soundcloud is free to stream/download at Amazing Tunes, https://amazingtunes.com/stephenmead

Danny


Were prairies crossed, forests or
What’s left of either?
Amid reactors, did you seal-steal
Or coast-flit, an egret, with tar
Coated wings?
The minefields, the mines…
Danny, what caused these scars?
Hypocrisy confronted?
The intimidation of clubs?
These marks are now your uniform,
The valiant vulnerable skin
Still there, & we shall wash,
Let the emblems have health
Or the nearest possible thing.
More than surviving, war’s other
Meaning must be your grin, your
Arms, the valuables, each resource
An ozone layer with little burning pricks…
Map pins for oil, for the disputes,
Territorial, for the dumping, the vapors…
What fire has the flag of your khaki put out
Scorched to the chest?
The flames, their imprint, that shield now
Is peeling gauze.  It’s a tattoo in reverse.
It’s an entrance which hands, the face
Coming close can only hope to console so
The come ye back,
The sunlight, the shadow knows
That you did, that you made it.

Look Danny, you’re here.

19 Danny (Long Road Ahead X 2 Mix, Kevin Macleod Incompetech.com music)sony help

Altering lyrics of the traditional "Banks of the Nile" to make it queer-themed and pertinent to the ongoing psychological war against LGBTQI rights.  Collaboration/Adaptation welcome.

Banks of the Nile (altered lyrics)

Oh listen! Hear how the drums do beat, my love, no longer can we stay
The bugle-horns are sounding clear, and we must march away
We're ordered down by military and it's many the weary mile
To join yet one more Army again on the banks of an Historic Nile

Oh Willie, dearest Willie, don't leave me here to mourn
Don't make me curse and rue the day that ever I was born
For the parting of our love would be like parting with my life
So make me your home, my dearest one, and I will be yours for all time

Oh my Manny, dearest Manny, sure that will never do
The governments' have ordered slaughter, and we are bound to go
The government's have ordered slaughter and our conscience gives command
so I am bound on oath, my love, to serve in that foreign land
Oh, but I'll cut out all of my fear and I'll run away with you
I'll dress myself in camouflage, and we'll find our promised Eden too
I'll stride beneath your banner while fortunate pride it do smile
And we'll comfort one another on the banks of some happier isle

But you are in a conversion camp and they have bullied you with their prayers
And under the sultry sons of sultans your sweet nature would recoil
Where the tanks do blast and rattle, when the bullets they do fly
And the twisted trumpets sound so loud to hide the dismal cries

Oh, cursed be those of such cruelty, that ever their hate began
For they have robbed our countries of many a good human
Yes, they've robbed us of our loved ones- why their bodies they still feed the lions -
On the red and bloody deserts which are the banks of their forsaken Nile

Banks Of The Nile For The Queer Folk

Recorded as a soundtrack for a  short collage film in progress.  http://www.amazon.com/Collaging-Film-One-Stephen-Mead/dp/B008JILOC8

http://www.amazon.com/Collaging-Film-Two-Stephen-Mead/dp/B008LYCCQW

https://www.youtube.com/user/StephenMead

Bette davis eyes hummed 9 2011 version with echo and bette poem sung

The usual indifference which met the tracks and release of "Threnody for a Forgotten Plague" provided what was most likely a good opportunity to reflect on other material I did vocals for around the same time period.  As someone whose being gravitates to different channels of creative release, mainly the visual and written, it is a surprise and struggle to discover what happens when I return to the aural as a medium.  Hopefully for the ears and the imagination, this opens up more doors than closes them.  I am including a link where the poem can be found which corresponds with this piece:  https://strange-poetry.com/2017/01/14/stephen-mead-assassinations/
Eventually, like many of the tracks on SoundCloud, this became part of the "Choral Soliloquies" projects free to download at Amazing Tunes, https://amazingtunes.com/stephenmead

Assassinations (Choral Soliloquies)

1/2//17  This piece was released as a soundscape more than five years ago and written at least a decade before that.  Things did not end so great for Cassandra, nor, on a happier note, those who cursed her, winding up cursing themselves. This message rings true through the ages in regards to what a person may want to say to any oppressive ogre.  Given the political situation of the United States today under the Trump Administration I feel the moral compass within Cassandra may speak to many although the Monarch Review, who first published it, had this to say:  "Here is a sonic document that could either be a high-minded avant think-piece or a perfectly loony exercise in drug-induced psychotic garagebanding."  Eventually, like many of the tracks on SoundCloud, this became part of the "Whispers of Arias" projects free to download at Amazing Tunes, https://amazingtunes.com/stephenmead

Cassandra’s Curse

 

See the future. 
I do not fabricate. 
Your disbelief tears up truth, 
Casts deceptions from the wayside. 
If you could realize a torso only immortal 
In stone, re-piece the scattered limbs, 
Find discernment in the head’s graven look, 
Then you would be back on the right path 
Instead of trading denial’s alibis... 

Listen, remove the brackets, 
The censorship from my speech, the omissions 
You’ve camouflaged in identical uniforms... 
Here all is toga plain, the scroll of a shell, 
Its knowledge gently whispering 
Warnings of impermanence, but also 
Eternity’s winds... 

A storm has come & you are in it, 
You the sex of history & future deliverance. 
Choose wisely... 

But no, you are too narrow & in turn 
Raise your own children to be 
Mean & impoverished of heart. 
Though enormous with greed, they shall be lean 
with your shortcomings, & even as rulers 
Shall topple just the same

                              

Cassandra's Curse

https://youtu.be/OUY7KR3zV4A
http://www.boxturtlebulletin.com/2016/01/06/71489

		My Lagan Ode
                                                                                             (For William Bert Bishop)
When drizzly skies are hard and dark,
and fallen leaves are scattered all around
I hear his voice on waves of clouds
though no one is there, not a soul to hold.

So many dawns I watched him walk,
his heart his own, his soul sublime,
but my love was ancient & felt the whole old world
was more cruel than my kind could survive.

Where Lagan's shine fell through hours of rain
I glimpsed him again far & fine,
but just as evening becalmed the scene
I knew he was not there for finding.

Other loves have passed,
walked & gone that way
with all their passage consoling,
but now on winds their whispers fade
& their remembrance must staunch my knowing.

My Lagan Ode (For William Bert Bishop)

When I first began making films of my art I was pretty much teaching myself and for the early ones I used captions.  A couple of months ago a friend suggested I re-do "31 Kisses" now that I have the concept of how a microphone works.  This is the result.  The film can be seen on my Amazon page in conjunction with "31 Kisses", the book.  https://www.amazon.com/Stephen-Mead/e/B002P5TVQC

31 Kisses Whole Mix

https://vimeo.com/309745164

A few years back from this 2018 upload date I began working on a series of images incorporating male sensuality/spirituality with the water element.  While beginning to re-work the series as a collage-film I created the enclosed upload from a poem written years earlier based on the story of Haricarnassus, https://www.britannica.com/place/Halicarnassus

art excerpt:  https://www.absolutearts.com/photography/mixed-media/stephen-mead-water-angel-excerpt-110-1584402896.html

Halycon

https://vimeo.com/376039414

"America the Beautiful, Distorted by So Many Questions"  speaks for itself as a title, these questions/distortions given clarity by the heavily textured imploring of the audio.  Central America, Latin America, North America, South America; in this art piece, are all synonyms for our one and only Earth.

America The Beautiful Distorted By So Many Questions Mix

https://vimeo.com/426334226

According to an email I received from Avaaz.org the words in this piece are the last words George Floyd spoke. An African American, George Floyd was killed May 25, 2020, after a white Minneapolis police officer put his knee on Floyd’s neck for more than eight minutes. Floyd said, ‘I can’t breathe,’ as the officer had his knee on his neck.  The voice in this experimental music piece/peace is not easy to listen to.  It should not be.  This is not easy listening.  What happened to George Floyd was murder.  What to do with the anguish and rage?  I channel it here hoping violence will stop begetting violence and impassioned but righteous, clear-eyed justice shall prevail.  Thank you.

George Floyd, Last Words(Someone Please)

"The Misfits" was a 1961 drama written by Arthur Miller, starring Marilyn Monroe and Clark Gable in their last completed roles on film. Marilyn plays a vulnerable divorcee attracted to Clark's character of a down-on-his-luck cowboy who has taken to capturing horses and selling them for their meat. According to Hollywood legend Marilyn was not too happy with the scene her husband, Arthur Miller, wrote for her at the end of the movie, what amounted to pretty much Marilyn screaming, and so "The Misfits Revisited" writes new lines for Marilyn expressing her pain and rage at the horses plight.

https://www.fictionalcafe.com/the-misfits-revisited-poetry-by-stephen-mead/

https://vimeo.com/458741351

"The Misfits" Revisited

With the release of two new works  (Choral Soliloquies I & II) falling coincidentally on Easter 2017 I decided to keep all downloads free at Amazing Tunes. To order CD containing tracks from this page via VISA or PayPal please visit http://stephenmeadmusic.weebly.com/

A resident of NY, I am a published artist, writer and maker of short collage-films.  Please google my name for links to both my work and available merchandise. In addition to instruments and sounds recorded around the house, all music here is collaged from free collaborative downloads.



Jonathan Penton from Unlikely Stories writes:  


It's appropriate that Stephen Mead has named this double-album Whispers of Arias, because despite the layered, operatic music and big dramatic themes, these recordings, ultimately, sound very little like arias: The vocals are so tortured and quiet that one can't help but think of a ghost in a symphony hall, desperately trying to impress something upon the listeners, something dire, something unbelievably tragic. Stephen Mead sings his poems over Kevin MacLeod's complex and sophisticated classical intepretations, and the effect is transformative—on the rhythm of the poems, on the meaning of MacLeod's recordings, and ultimately, on the listener.


radiowildfire.com writes:  Stephen's work with voice and soundscape continues to intrigue us and, we think, set a benchmark for recording spoken word.

stephenmeadart

Popular tracks