Vos paroles ont toujours une merveilleuse qualité poétique (merci d'avoir inclus Google Translate). Et l'ambiance de cette chanson est très joyeuse et énergisante. :)

Excellente qualité musicale. très bon timbre de voix caractéristique. Très très bonnes paroles.

Tout est dit ... Excellente chanson avec de bons arrangements . Bravo Alain 👍

Punk Rock Zombie

PS Perkins: Guitars, bass, lyre, vocals
Ron Thomas: Autoharps, Drums

Production notes:
---------------------------------------------
Very early on we wanted to use autoharps on this song to create a sort of swirling backdrop, reminiscent of the harps in Indian/Bollywood soundtrack songs of the seventies.

Right away there were challenges because the song is in B flat and is not wholly diatonic to begin with, utilizing a chord built on the augmented lydian scale in the choruses. So rather than transpose the song to a more amenable key (since the chromatic bits weren't going to work no matter what key we used) we instead re-tuned the autoharp. Moving through the strings one by one we tuned them either up or down a half step where applicable to bring them into key. Where the augmented chord hit in the choruses, we excluded those notes so that the autoharp was filling the diatonic parts of the chords and omitting the accidentals. It took us several tries to get it right. In the end we arrived at a chord progression that could be strummed on the autoharp and the modified chords could be played with existing dampers.

We also tuned the lyre so that the top half of the strings included the chromatic augmented notes while the lower register of the lyre was tuned using the diatonic, so the lyre could play the melody all the way through both parts of the song.

The inspiration for this song was essentially fourfold:
--------------------------------------------------------
First, H.P. Lovecraft's terrifying necromancer Joseph Curwen (from "The Case of Charles Dexter Ward") who masked his true identity in order to thwart suspicion from his fellow townsfolk. He has many secrets lurking in his underground catacombs where he performs acts of necromancy most foul, extracting the "salts" of the dead in order to raise them at will and learn the secrets of ancient eldritch deities.

Second, a poem by Rudyard Kipling titled "En-Dor" which was a warning against the rise of spiritualism and the cost of communion with the dead in the early 20th century.

Third, the biblical Saul who traveled in disguise to visit a witch at the city of Endor in order to summon Samuel from the dead and garner advice on defeating the Philistines, but who only prophesies doom for Saul. Saul dies later the next day in the battle of Gilboa.

Lastly, the story of Odysseus communing with the underworld where he enlists the help of Tiresias to have a chat with the dead and secure for himself a safe journey home.

They all seek communion with the dead for one purpose: to gain knowledge which only those who have crossed over between realms might possess. 

Lyrics:
-------------------------------------
A mask may reveal what it’s meant to conceal
From those who are standing beside us
Armor of pride, so we learn to abide
By the monsters which hide deep inside us
The monsters which lurk deep inside us
Oh, how they scratch and they bite us
The monsters which lurk deep inside us

Only to know what the professor knows

Eating black bread, wearing clothes of the dead
The soil soaked in honey around us
For fear if we failed, leave the ogre unveiled
And it’s back in the grave where they found us
Back in the grave where they found us
Freed from the ties which had bound us
Back in the grave where they found us

Only to know what the professor knows

In the catacomb vaults, we extracted the salts
From cadavers to lengthen our youth
Chanting the names at the edge of the flames
And a mirror to show us the truth
A mirror which speaks only truth
See how it seeks not to soothe
A mirror which speaks only truth

Only to know what the professor knows

In the underworld maze, in the night of no days
Concocting the plan we’re devising
Much to endure on the road to En-Dor
And to snatch from Elohim arising
To snatch from Elohim arising
Snatch from Elohim arising
Snatch from Elohim arising
Snatch from Elohim arising
Snatch from Elohim arising

BARDS: Of the Shimmering Seraphs

The Professor

I'm sorry y'all--this is another downer of a song with preachy lyrics but it's an idea that came up and demanded to be completed. 

The only side I take is the human one, but I couldn't have more contempt for the ostensible leaders of both Gaza and Israel who seek their own interests at the cost of so much suffering among innocents. Nothing good comes out of "Let's go kill some people."



You Let This Happen

have you understood that this is the final warning call
abandon hope all those that linger here

you lived the diamond life and could not lend your ears
and now the sand is wet with blood beyond our wildest fears 
how could you let this happen here

we plant the seeds of death beside the seeds of life 
so they can pay the price and have the will to fight

the bloodied face that no one could identify
now here's the news that was a mother's precious baby
how could you let this happen here

so how do you think this story ends
when it begins with the death of innocents
another thousand years of war is in the cards
another generation with daggers in their hearts

and you let it happen

You Let This Happen

Lights Off feat. CallMeDezz
Vocals and Lyrics CallMeDezz:
 https://www.looperman.com/acapellas/detail/22218/lights-off-140bpm-trap-acapella
Paploviante E Bass, Music, Arrangement, Mix and Mastering

Lights Off feat. CallMeDezz

Roar (or Get Up On Your Hind Legs)

chorale

Music: Composed, written, mixed, mastered, by: Prod. Riddiman

www.youtube.com/@ProdRiddiman

Vocals/Lyrics: Written, performed, mixed and mastered by: The Mysterious Decibel

Lyrics:

Do the monsters from the dark dimension tell campfire stories too?
Do the monsters from the realm of unknown make the antagonist out of you?

Sick and Disgusting
Perverted and untrusting
A planet just crusting with parasitical bustings from the wombs of the wicked
We are so addicted
To the madness afflicted
All the way from restricted

Do you even know what crafts a monster that walks on many toes?
Does it go any further than the realms outside the veins of your blood flow?

Do the monsters from the dark dimension tell campfire stories too?
Do the monsters from the realm of unknown make the antagonist out of you?

Who are all the Monsters in all the pages?
We are all the monsters! Let's burn the sages!
Who are all the monsters in all the pages?
We are all the monsters let's burn the sages!

Who are all the monsters?
Who are all the monsters?
Who are all the monsters?
We are all the monsters!

You can't cleanse me
I can't cleanse you
So let's sail the sinful seas
In a little Brittle black canoe

Prod. Riddiman x The Mysterious Decibel - Who Are All The Monsters?

In the quaint suburban, preciously one square mile neighborhood of Willowbrook, a peculiar phenomenon unfolds beneath the facade of everyday life. Here, amidst the picket fences and neatly trimmed lawns, lies a secret known only to its inhabitants: the ability to walk through walls. It's a gift that defies logic, a quirk of reality that shapes the lives of those who call Willowbrook home.

Willowbrook

雲は流れる

Just Like U

Texte Français et Google traduction

Je continue à me mentir, j’ai trop la haine de ne rien dire
Les « Robinson » de l’aventure me font la gueule par être peu sûrs.
De trop compter les potes qui tombent, ma main qui lâche casse la ronde
D’une ribambelle aux fières allures, mais quand c’est d’trop, y’a rien qui dure.

En naviguant dans les eaux troubles, l’algue marine épie mon double
L’équivoque de mes tourbillons, dans l’éphémère n’sent pas bien bon.
J’finirai ma vie au cachot, on vit sale derrière les barreaux
A givrer des nuits d’insomnies, çà fait très mal à c’qu’on m’a dit.

Mais à y regarder de près, sans même le faire exprès
Du niveau de la mer, c’est fou, ce qu’on voit clair.

Les stigmates d’un mauvais chemin au visage pâle et trop repeint,
Peuvent me conduire au bas d’l’autel de l’amertume pour le mortel.
A me la faire cul et chemise,la partie ne s’ra jamais remise
Pour tous les clous que j’y enfonce, il n’y aura pas cinquante réponses.

Trop lourd le poids de mes fumées, à faire le speed pour exister
Tous mes cadastres et mauvais plans, me mettront un d’ces quatre dedans.
A tout à l’heure, à toute allure, j’me barre pour mieux faire le mur
Quand j’me la joue à la dégonfle c’est pas ma vérité qui pionce.

Mais à y regarder de près, sans même le faire exprès
Du niveau de la mer, c’est fou, ce qu’on voit clair.

Des p’t-être bien qu’oui peut-être bien qu’non, y’a même des jours j’sais plus mon nom
J’bègue d’avoir une idendité, j’suis pourtant pas un sans-papiers.
A m’trimballer sur terrains vagues, dans mes amours, je cache les bagues
D’fidélité qu’on s’passe aux doigts, y’a bien une fois où çà s’saura.

J’suis pas du genre à suer l’maillot, mais à m’tirer aux moindres maux
Dans les effets ou mes annonces, j’me prends pour l’arc qui fait l’triomphe.
La réclusion naît par nature, je moque les doutes de l’envergure
A n’pas poser mes cartes sur table, y’a bien un temps où j’s’rai minable.

Mais à y regarder de près, sans même le faire exprès
Du niveau de la mer, c’est fou, ce qu’on voit clair.

Faudra changer mon écriture et les photos de ma brochure
Mettre dans le coin d’un vieux placard les apparences qui me font, car
J’finirai ma vie au cachot, de faire le zouave et jouer faux
Il fait si bon et chaud dehors, que çà s’ra con d’changer l’décor.

Car à y regarder de près, sans même le faire exprès
Du niveau de la mer, c’est fou, ce qu’on voit clair.

WATCH OUT

I continue to lie to myself, I have too much hatred to say nothing
The "Robinson" of the adventure make me mouth by being unsure.
To count too much the falling fellows, my loose hand breaks the round
Of a gang with the proud gaits, but when it is too much, there is nothing that lasts.

While navigating in troubled waters, seaweed spies my double
The equivocation of my whirlwinds in the ephemeral are not very good.
I'll end my life in prison, we live dirty behind bars
Frosting nights of insomnia, it hurts a lot to me.

But to look closely, without even doing it on purpose
From the sea level, it's crazy, what we see clearly.

The stigmata of a bad path with a pale face and too much repainting,
Can lead me down the altar of bitterness to the mortal.
To make me ass and shirt, the game will never be reset
For all the nails I put in, there will not be fifty answers.

Too heavy the weight of my smoke, to speed to exist
All my cadastres and bad plans, will put one of these four in me.
A moment ago, at full speed, I bar to better make the wall
When I play it deflates it is not my truth that pionce.

R.

Well, maybe yes, but no, there's even days I do not know my name anymore
I think I have an identity, but I am not an undocumented one.
To put me on vague grounds, in my loves, I hide the rings
Fidelity that passes to the fingers, there's a good time where it will be.

A Y REGARDER DE PRES (Bon en face, mauvais par derrière... Cà se voit toujours et on finit seul))

Chansons Françaises écrites, composées, arrangées et enregistrées à la maison.
Elles sont toutefois déposées à la SACEM.

A Y REGARDER DE PRES (Bon en face, mauvais par derrière... Cà se voit toujours et on finit seul))

Alain GUERIN

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