Some nice instrumental folk Don😊🎸🎵🎶

From one old codger to another, beautiful earthy guitar playing. I started finger pickin' many years ago but let it lapse, regretfully... I hope you are well and happy doing your thing. Greets from Oz. :)

This is a gorgeous thing. You are font of melodic playing with consummate skill.

Holy F*cking Hell is an anthem for the binary times we live in — where we’re only allowed to be red or blue.

It was written at the height of the pandemic, in the middle of a ridiculous war between left and right, as a form of satire aimed at those who, overnight, took to the streets to defend their favorite politicians like beloved pets.

How hard it is to have a different opinion...


Holy F*cking Hell

It’s tough being Latin, straight-faced and broke,
No cash in the bank, just the weight of the yoke.
They see the beard, think I’m red to the core,
But when they ask why, I just show them the door —

Holy fcking hell,
Holy fcking hell,
Holy f*cking hell...

It’s hard to explain why I’m poor with an iPhone,
While some ride in limos to buy fast food alone.
Hard to explain all the hate and the fear —
When sooner or later, we all end up here:

Holy fcking hell,
Holy fcking hell,
Holy f*cking hell...

It’s hard to explain all the racism.
Hard to explain this damn system.
Hard to explain the consumer's chain,
Hard to say I don’t think the same.

It’s hard to explain why it almost makes sense —
Chase money for life, die broke on a bench.
Sell your soul just to fit the scene,
Play nice and clean,
Be silent and tame,
So you get to complain...

It’s hard to explain that my joy ain’t your pain,
And your life won't change if you let others remain.
Just accept there's more ways, more minds, more views —
And deal with the folks who don’t live like you.

Then maybe we won’t have to yell it again:
Then maybe we won’t have to yell it again:
Then maybe we won’t have to yell it again:

Holy fcking hell,
Holy fcking hell,
Holy f*cking hell...

+++++++++++++++++++++PORTUGUES

Puta que Pariu é um hino aos tempos binários que vivemos, onde só podemos ser vermelho ou azul. Escrita no auge da pandemia e no ápice da guerra imbecil entre destros e canhotos, como forma de escárnio aos que, do dia para noite, começaram a ir para as ruas defender seus politicos de estimação. Como é dificil ter outra opinião....


Puta que Pariu
Difícil é por ser latino americano e careta.
Sem um puto no banco, empapuçado de marreta.
Não é por ser barbudo que eu viro comunista.
Difícil é explicar já mando logo para a
Puta que pariu
Puta que pariu
Puta que pariu 
Difícil é explicar porque sou pobre e tenho i-phone.
Ou quem vai de limusine no dogão pra matar a fome.
Difícil é explicar porque a discriminação.
Se em mais ou menos tempo vamos todos para a
Puta que pariu
Puta que pariu
Puta que pariu 
Difícil explicar o racismo.
Difícil explicar a opressão.
Difícil explicar o que o consumismo.
Difícil é dizer que eu tenho outra opinião.
Difícil é explicar que isso tudo faz sentido.
Viver atrás de grana pra depois morrer mendigo.
Vende a vida por grana.
Pra querer ser bacana.
Recatado e do lar.
Pra poder criticar.
Difícil é explicar que o meu bem não é seu mal.
E que nada em sua vida deixará de ser igual.
Se você aceitar opções e opiniões.
Se você aprender a lidar com quem mora na terra.
Nunca mais vamos ter de mandar
Nunca mais vamos ter de mandar
Nunca mais vamos ter de mandar
Puta que pariu
Puta que pariu
Puta que pariu 


Holy F*cking Hell (Puta que Pariu)

simple morning melody

©music and lyrics by Hans-Michael Albers, vocals by suno 4.5+

a very old one I wrote over 40 years ago inspired by morris albert. the translation... never mind.

Daylight's safety fades into the night.
They used to say it starts to haunt
Obscure shades fall over wrong or right.
While something happens beyond

Feeling
Since I have that feeling,
Since I know that I can't catch that feeling for you.

Though you've got me down, I'm ready to take your advice.
and for reading it deep in your eyes.
I can't go on with all this nonsense I'm used to, I've got to wipe it out.
just wipe it out

Since I have that feeling,
Since I know that I can't catch that feeling for you.
[Instrumental]

Inner coldness — all so cool, hip and all that stuff I feel
That I don't really need it.
For years, I didn't care for the senses I long for so deeply 
now.

Feeling
Since I have that feeling,
Since I know that I can't catch that feeling for you.
Feeling
Since I have that feeling,
Since I know that I can't catch that feeling for you.
Feeling
Since I have that feeling,
Since I know that I can't catch that feeling for you.

Feeling

The low temperature reel

maybe it's just me, but the end of summer has always felt like someone suddenly flipped a switch and changed everything overnight. the light, the air, the mood, everything. of course, there's this spectacularly beautiful transition called indian summer in canada and north america, and simply "herbst" here. but the beginning of this magnificent end always feels abrupt to me. recently, it happened again. just like when I was a child, I felt a sense of melancholy, as if it were a permanent farewell. maybe for it will actually be that way. someday.

anyway, in 1981, I had the bizarre idea of writing a musical. I was attracted by the complex challenge. but, above all, it was because I had always been immensely impressed by the musicals of the 60s and 70s: just freaking divine melodies, usually too dramatic, playful and operetta-like for radio.

I got started and wrote a musical about mice (while in london someone way more talented was creating one about cats;-) of course, autumn had to play a role, with all the feelings I associate with it, which I also attribute to mice. scene: two mice sitting together, watching a beautiful sunset, one of them starts singing and dancing.

over the past 40 years, I have reinterpreted the theme of this special part countless times (just example in the case of massive curiosity: ( https://youtu.be/az0T2Uzkgk0?si=QLOK4hJ5i5GcsDbr ), but it has only now become a song with the vocals written once.

I’d also like to share the very first sketch on the subject, once recorded in my band's rehearsal room with a working text. we shared the room with a keyboardist with an unimaginable amount of money. this allowed him to afford things I secretly used for this recording: a brand-new wonder machine called the teac tascam portastudio 244 80s 4 track multitrack cassette tape recorder!!! a yamaha cp 70 grand piano!!! a korg cx-3 organ!!! and a roland tr-808 rhythm composer!!! absolutely insane!!! the rest is my “voice” and, of course, the strat.

And since I’m already at it, I created a template-free hip hop interpretation of the lyrics that more closely reflects my current mood, which is certainly age-related;-)

©music and lyrics written by Hans-Michael Albers, instrumental cover and vocal performance by suno 4.5+

One last warm ray of sunlight.
reflected in the leaves' dance.
A flock of birds flies away.
A sky full of differences.

Nothing blooms or sparkles in the air anymore.
Only the weary scent of farewell.
Of all the strength that once was.
Now, only memories remain.

A quiet dying, piece by piece.
Looking forward, we look back.
To everything light and carefree,
that returned every morning.

as if nothing was ever too late.
Because time turns in circles.
in a boundless world,
where nothing lasts forever.

Do you feel it, too?
Do you feel it, too?

Colourful and enchantingly beautiful to this day.
A play of colours, no farewell.
One last warm ray of sunshine.
There won't be another one.

There won't be another one.

Do you feel it, too?
Do you feel it, too?


Spürst du das auch? (Musical Version)

Mark Kurtis Adams (1956-2022) is the greatest songwriter you've never heard of. We were friends for forty years. Since his passing, I have been combing through his massive catalog of original songs; many co-written with friends, many written solo. It would be a crime for the world to never hear the music I grew up on. Mark gave me permission/freedom to use his music in any way I choose before he died. Here is VOLUME 2 of Mark's music as I have interpreted it.

If We Knock Down the Walls

This is a tune from my favorite LP from this band called "A Deeper Understanding". Again you may not recognize it if you know the band, as my interpretation fits my style on a 6 string acoustic. I really like this song and itis fun to sing and easy to play on the guitar.

"Thinking of a Place” marks a subtle, focused return from the War on Drugs. Stretching out across 11 minutes, it is less a reintroduction than a reimmersion into Adam Granduciel’s spectral Americana. Nearly every aspect of the song is tenuous, either disappearing or located just beyond our grasp. Granduciel sings, “Love is like a ghost in the distance out of reach.” He warns us, “There’s a darkness over there/But we ain’t going.” He laments a lover who “vanished in the night” while he gazes at the Missouri River. The music shifts between ambient passages of synth and fuzzed-out guitar solos, neither building in intensity nor losing momentum. Instead, Granduciel sounds locked in perpetual motion, sometimes slowing down to observe his surroundings, and sometimes pushing forward and just letting it blur outside the window.
The power of “Thinking of a Place” comes from the way Granduciel communicates urgency through such patient music."                    Pitchfork

Mastered Track: Distrokid Mixea
Image: Devon Schreiner

Thinking of a Place-The War on Drugs (Cover)

💓🔥💪🏼🦵🏼⁂©All Rights Reserved 08-2025
© Mixer, Mastering, Creator, & Pro License: Lady ElectroTrek
***This track is Page Defender Protected & to be released on EP with additional Pro MIXEA BADGE>>
https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/electrotrek/the-big-slide

Intense Attraction

The Big Slide

Daydream Vol 2

Aspro

I'll be releasing some acoustic shi for rn until I feel like recording vocals 

Shot dead, nobody even knew.

Spanish flamenco style, dance version compo.

Starts slowly, and builds into a dancing mayhem distortion, for my followers to dance and enjoy.
My style, copy compo goes into overdrive, fun and still my passion for classical Spanish guitar, always there.

The low temperature reel

Don Jennings

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