'Flow'

Falsestart: rhythm & bass
Scotty: lead, lyrics, vocals

I'm somewhere stuck in the middle.
I can't decipher these riddles.
I know I must but can't seem to let it go.
The strength to see through these billows
brings restless nights to my pillows.
Spiraling, I can't seem to let it go.
I'm digging deep into will, though,
or it continues to kill, slow.
Spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling.
I must find a 'good' way to overcome.
Spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling. 
I must find a 'good' way to overcome
or I will succumb. 

Society, I'm finding,
is difficult surviving.
It's in my mind, I just gotta let it go.
Inside, I feel I'm dying.
Can't stop these tears from crying.
It's in my mind, I just gotta let it go.
Although you see me trying,
can't keep myself from flying.
It's in my mind, I just gotta let it go.
I can't do so when I am feeling low.
It's in my mind, I just gotta let it go.
I can't do so when I am feeling low.
So, I rise again. 

Your influence; uplifting. 
I feel my spirit shifting.
Negatives; I know I can let 'em go.
My brain's begun its sifting
to keep my mind from drifting.
Negatives; I know I can let 'em go.
This strength, it comes within me.
My destiny's within reach.
Negatives; I know I can let 'em go.
Go, go, go, go, go, go.... 

Here I am. 
My own man.
With no plans.
Flow.


flow (with Falsestart)

As each November approaches I try to make my own little Remembrance-time tribute.  Seems more relevant as each year passes...

Following the huffing and puffing empire lunacy in the summer of 1914, the next four years would see 40 million casualties, half of them deaths and of those, half were civilian.  

40 million.

40 million tales of poignancy, pain, grief and human tragedy, through times that can often seem littered with coincidence, symmetries …. bookends and mirrors.

In the Military Cemetery of St Symphorien near Mons rests John Parr.  At only five foot three inches and several years under age he (amazingly) managed to enlist in 1912 - hoping to see the world, and get the advertised “two square meals” a day.  He was the first British Army casualty, killed in the battle of Mons aged just 17, his body left behind, fate unknown until much later in the conflict;  the army unable to answer his mother’s letters of enquiry about her “silent” son.

By pure coincidence, John lies just a few yards from the last British soldier to die in the great war.  George Ellison served for four long years including at the same first battle of Mons as John, and most of the famously grinding, attritional infantry battles of the conflict.  His working life bookended by military service, George had first enlisted in 1902, leaving the army in 1912, just as John joined, he became a coal miner, re-enlisting at the outbreak of war to dig mud not coal and fight from trenches he helped excavate.  George was killed just 90 minutes before the armistice took effect at 11:00 on the 11th day of the 11th month.  The futility of the conflict was cruelly illustrated by the fact that George’s war had started and ended at exactly the same place, Mons in Belgium.  They had literally gone nowhere.

As a postscript to progress since "the war to end all wars" the human race is currently reckoned to be engaged in 7 major wars, 15 significant ongoing conflicts and 21 “minor” conflicts (the latter defined as up to "only” 1000 deaths per year).  By way of another macabre bookend, the longest of these has been going on, unbelievably, since the year .... 1918.

As always, this simple ballad is offered as a live one mic one take effort - please excuse the fluffs and gaffes.
_______________________

Bookends and Mirrors

Sun turned cold ‘cross every sky in the summer of ‘14
The Good Lord shook his head, and he placed it in his hands
Braided declarations flying, whose like was never seen
Lunatics in feathers stockpiled lead, bagged their sand.
Slapstick Mephistopheles, unleashing of his flame
Spiral minds lobotomised in the waltz of the insane
Simple lives unknowing of the mud that would become
A mirror in the resting place of two Holy Mother’s sons.

Signed the line, five years young, fingers crossed behind his back
Chance to see the world, grab a future, two square meals.
At 17, John’s angels sung, first to fall in dawn’s attack
Abandoned and forgotten, deaf to all his ma’s appeals.
Never knew the miner, his bookend pal to be
Fighting down the line, many battles that he’d see
Full four years in trenches, George’s hell lived through them all
Cruelty was smiling wide at England’s last to fall.

In service time they travelled nowhere, nothing to achieve
Embracing 40 million weeping mothers left to grieve
The crime of puffing chest bravado beggared to believe
Hall of mirrors seeping others’ blood of the innocent naive.

Now John and George lie facing each to seek their mirrored peace
Raise my eyes and brim a tear for the lessons never learned
Pray God, don’t ever let them know man’s insanity but increased
The war to end all wars a mere sequel oft’ returned 
By comedies of leathered fools stuck on infinite repeat
Bemedalled and bejewelled, they prosecute their moral defeat
But here, on sallow turf twixt heroes, broken mirror in my broken hand
Met by my own broken eyes, I still fail to understand.
_________
Photo by Michael Yuan on Unsplash

Bookends and Mirrors

No Prayers For November (featuring Tom Waits)

Peace

Keith had a gentle guitar phrase and  a few words that he was playing with and shuffled it over to me for a listen to see what I made of it. The result is the song below. The conflict is in the spirituality represented by the sparks on a fire ascending, and the observation that the embers twinkle, fade and fall, silent. What is it all about if the prayers, meditations and positive thoughts just fall back to earth like the sparks? The beliefs we embrace must hit the road of reality. If they measure up to good - wonderful! But if not? The supreme irony for me is watching kids being taught to hate in a religious school class.  I was going to use the coordinating conjunction BUT to set up the point of contrast (But you can't..."). Instead, Keith preferred the AND ("And you can't...") as, in addition to all that one CAN believe, you must be aware that other things follow too. Can And Cannot. So simple. Or is it?
Free D/L - Track 9 of the new album Hold On To Someone : https://www.terrywigmore.com/wigmore-allen-gibbons

Lyrics:
We seem to want to find
A spiritual connection to space and time
An affinity for infinity and the great beyond
Now, chuck your branch onto the fire
Watch it spark, and come alive
Embers drawn up into the night sky
Twinkling, fading, and in silence, fall

And you can't lead, once they've all been turned
And you can't light, what's already burned
And you can't teach compassion and hope
Once the hating's all been learned,

It's the lack of definition of in the twilight hours
That makes it so difficult to find our way
Past all the claims and assertions of things that cannot be proven
Now, chuck your branch onto the fire
Watch it spark, and come alive
Embers drawn up into the night sky
Twinkling, fading, and in silence fall

And you can't lead, once they've all been turned
And you can't light, what's already burned
And you can't teach compassion and hope
Once the hating's all been learned,

Wigmore: synths, production, lyrics, vocals
Allen: guitars, bass, music, additional vocals

Hold On (To Someone)

And You Can't

We recorded this song some years ago,  I did a new mastering and this is the instrumental version.
Oddvar Solheim: guitar
Torbjørn Vagle, composition, key`s, synths and Hammond Organ C3
 Photo; Matt Hardy

But You Cannot Mr Floyd (features Oddvar Solheim guitar)

Free Fallin',  free style

DAGDA // When the father of the Celtic gods drops by ...
@docfritz // Composition, Arrangement, Soundscapes, Drums, Artwork, Mix & Production
@toni-fatu // all extraterrestrial guitars
© 2024 | OESJ | ORCHESTRA OF ELECTRIC SPACEJAZZ

DAGDA (feat. ToNi FaTu)

'losing control'
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3y0xhZu_Ko/?igsh=OXlwdDF2ZngzMGxv

Painter: art

Will I hold you in my arms again,
as a lover, not a friend?
Can I keep control 'til then,
even if until my end?

But I can't and I won't, my love.

I'm losing control.

I'm goin' to explooooooooooooode.

losing control

Music : Janne Hennie & PJ Project
Vocal & lyrics : Janne Hennie

Lyrics:

You tighten your grip that you have on me
Iam so scared
Baby , why can't you see
That you got me exactly where you want..
When you say you're leaving
I beg you Please baby, don't!

If you tell me to jump
I will only ask: how high?
with no other questions
I will never ask you why
Please don't leave me, baby
I do anything for you
As long as you don't leave me here
Baby, what can i do?

You can take all my money
Spend it your way
You can take whatever you want
As long as you stay..
You don't have to love me
Or tell me that you do
You can do what the hell you want
As long as i have you!

If you tell me to jump
I will only ask: how high?
With no other questions
I will never ask you why
Please don't leave me , baby
I do anything for you
As long as you don't leave me here
Baby, what can i do?

If you tell me to jump
I will only ask: how high?
With no other questions
I will never ask you why
Please don't leave me, baby
I do anything for you
As long as you don't leave me here
Baby, what can i do?

Desperat Love W/ Janne Hennie

An instrumental odyssey through the infinite. *The Endless Symphony* translates the mathematical beauty of π into music — patterns without repetition, harmony without end. Each movement explores a facet of infinity: creation, balance, entropy, and return. Through orchestral textures, ambient electronics, and minimalist design, Avaline Ingels constructs a sonic architecture that feels both divine and human — precision guided by emotion.  
Piano, harp, and strings trace circular motifs while choirs breathe in golden ratios. Tempos shift by Fibonacci values, phrases extend by digits of π, and melodies evolve like galaxies forming. The album’s structure loops perfectly: the finale’s final drone blends into the prelude’s first chord, forming a seamless circle of sound.  
*The Endless Symphony* is not a story but a mirror of eternity — a composition that, like π itself, continues forever, revealing meaning only through motion.

The Unending Curve

Many thanks for listening to my songs. 
My influences comes from many places and I dont always know what comes next 
The album «ten waves» by Jimena Arroyo and me are now available on Spotify
"ten waves" ℗ 2020 Jimena Arroyo & Torbjørn Vagle
open.spotify.com/album/49F0sSLfSsfWOpAfr1EgJe
Check also out my songs with Oddrun Eikli https://open.spotify.com/artist/2fp2HGStdCYNJHWvlBQsIK?si=GVqRPRyTTkyfy9WIz5ZLjw
 thanks to all of you I`v been so lucky to create music together with!!