What a beautiful song Per Fantastic vocals, lyrics, Structure ✌️🙏🫵

Well I’m a complete and utter fool for this great Waits song and having done a version of it myself I have a profound fondness and appreciation for all its nuances. You and Docvet have captured quite wonderfully.

AUTUMNS ARE THE (MANY) BOOKMARKS OF LIFE

Fixed some parts from the preliminary mix, restructured, additional mastering applied..

This is part of the Myth Wave collection, see the "buy" link for the free-to-download album on Bandcamp...

Mnemosyne (factual mix)

Some day

From the album Schopenhauer's Apprentice

when you lie to me
I can't believe
when you speak your words to me

when you lie to me
I can't believe
when you say you love me

when you lie to me 
I can't believe
when you speak those words to me

when you lie to me
I can't believe
when you say you love me

Schopenhauer's Apprentice

Cry Wolf

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

There's a fantastic 70s leaning pop-rock album  Ticket to Shangri-La  released in 2023 (Young Gun Silver Fox) with a song called Starting Wars. I miss heard and mis-read the title as Starling Wars which seemed a great metaphor for something. It could have applied to a relationship - but the 2 wars going on became the theme

Starling Wars

You fly in to foul my nest 
Seeing red I puff out my chest
Aiming at your catacombs
Dropping all my guano bombs
Flit across and I peck at you
Cause my beliefs are the only truth
Starling wars it’s about pecking order 
Starling wars gonna bomb your son and daughter

I ruffle your feathers
You think that you’re better
Ethnically superior
The plumage of an emperor
Gonna peck my eye’s right out
Squawk about it loud and proud
Starling wars it’s about pecking order 
Starling wars gonna bomb your son and daughter

Em7 Dma7 Ami7 G Bb/C F F#m7 B

Underneath there’s the dove of peace
Peeking out at the busy streets
I Wrap your eggs neath protective wings
Drop a flower confess my sins
Fleeting thought it just flies away
Revenge is sweet gonna make you pay
Starling wars it’s about pecking order 
Starling wars gonna bomb your son and daughter

STARLING WARS

Original by Tom Wait 1973

Docvet : Vocal  & acoustic finger picked guitar

Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You  W/ Docvet

Just looking through the window.

English Summers Day.


I LIKE THE WAY THE TALL GRASS SWAYS

I LIKE THE WAY IT BLOWS

THE SHIVERY HEDGE DOES A BACKGROUD DANCE

SUN SHINE COMES AND GOES

A BLACK BIRD HOPS SEE  HER YELLOW BEAK

LORDS AND LADIES GROW

LAVENDER ISLAND CRITTER SANCTURY

RED HOT POKERS GLOW


I LIKE THE WAY THE TALL GRASS SWAYS

I LIKE THE WAY IT BLOWS

SPARROWS FLEDGE FROM THEIR PRIVIT NEST

I WATCH THEM COME AND GO



GREEN FINGER TIPS ON THE CHRISTMAS TREE

HELLO TO BUZZY BEE

THE WIND PICKS UP SKY OF BLUE AND GREY

ANOTHER  ENGLISH SUMMERS DAY 
 

I LIKE THE WAY THAT THE TALL GRASS SWAYS

I LIKE THE WAY IT BLOWS

THE SHIVERY HEDGE DOES A BACKGROUD DANCE

SUN SHINE COMES AND GOES

A BLACK BIRD HOPS SEE  HER YELLOW BEAK

LORDS AND LADIES GROW

LAVENDER ISLAND CRITTER SANCTURY

RED HOT POKERS GLOW


GREEN FINGER TIPS ON THE CHRISTMAS TREE

HELLO TO BUZZY BEE

THE WIND PICKS UP SKY OF BLUE AND GREY

ANOTHER  ENGLISH SUMMERS DAY 
ANOTHER  ENGLISH SUMMERS DAY 
ANOTHER  ENGLISH SUMMERS DAY

English Summers Day

Oldschool Records (vocal Version)

Introduction in English:
For many, November is the worst month. I particularly like it because it is the month that best expresses the Buddhist mantra of "And the end is the beginning". In November, almost all the trees are bare and most plants have faded. But in this "destruction" lies the seed of new life. 
November is the month that most clearly demonstrates that we sometimes have to radically let go of beliefs and attitudes that no longer help us move forward so that we can reposition ourselves and continue to develop.
And this month also makes it clear that we must fully accept dying and death as facts in order to keep the flywheel of life, which goes far beyond us, running. 
At the age of 60, I am still in the "October of life". However, October is already knocking strongly on the door of the unstoppable transformation processes that reach their climax in November. 
The song "Autumn is here" summarises these thoughts in the form of a French chanson. I chose this form because, in my view, the French language and the genre of the chanson come closest to the basic existential themes of life.

Lyrics in English (For those, who don’t speak French)

Autumn is here

Everything falls, nothing holds
Nothing stands, it's already late
The green turns gray, the weather wet and rough
The flock of birds moves away into the warm blue

This morning I was full of energy
Tonight I'm tired
My garden of life will soon be withered
One little spark still glows
That still drives me and pulls me forward 

Autumn is here
The gray hair
Lies damp in the drain sieve

Autumn is here
The cataract
looks at me in the mirror

The fields are bare
The faces pale
The tree trunk breaks
In the middle of the poem

The clock runs down
The meadow lies fallow

The car groans
The eye runs and tears

The children look pityingly
The morning sun grins
Nothing you can gain 
Gain
The raven peeks
Around the corner, nods at you

Französischer Originaltext:

L'automne est là

Oui, tout tombe
Rien qui tienne
Il n'y a plus rien
C'est déjà tard

Le vert devient gris
Le temps humide et rude
La nuée d'oiseaux 
S'en va vers le bleu chaud

Ce matin, j'étais à fond
Ce soir, je suis fatigué
Le jardin de ma vie 
va bientôt se faner

Une dernière étincelle brille
qui me pousse et m'entraîne en avant

L'automne est là
Les cheveux gris
Se trouve dans le siphon

L'automne est là
La cataracte se rapproche
Me regarde dans le miroir
L'automne est là

Les champs sont nus
Les visages sont pâles
Le billot se brise
Au cœur du récit

L'horloge retarde
Le fond du pré est en friche
La voiture gémit
Les yeux sont pleins de pus

Les enfants regardent avec pitié
Le soleil matinal se moque de toi
Il n'y a rien d'autre que tu puisses gagner
Le corbeau regarde 
Au coin et il te fait un signe de tête

L'automne est la (Autumn is here)

Cast of Characters:
xian3-- @xian3 – Christian -- vocals and lyrics
Holger Engel—bass, seed idea
J.J. Terrell-- @j-j-terrell—JJ-- electric piano, synth
mistermark-- @user-432503709 -- Mark-- electric piano
Llanpsych-- @llanpsych -- mix, and production
K2 and the Three [and the Four]--@k2andthe3, @k2-kara –Ken–drums
Entheogenic Psychonaught (Josh Clary)-- @josh-clary-1 – guitar and four-string fretless bass
 
This song began with Christian's friend Holger Engel coming up with a melodic bass line and sharing it with him to use as a seed stem for a project. Having collaborated successfully with him before, Christian thought of Josh and decided to pass it along to him to see what he could build with it. Josh was excited to work on another of Holger's creations. His bass line was in a high octave on the instrument, so Josh added a similar, complimentary bass line on the low octave to give it some heft. He invited Ken onto the project, and after doing their little rhythm section give and take, Ken laid down some powerful, yet tasteful drums. Mark was brought in next, and added some very fitting, wonderfully melodic electric piano, which he added in the choruses. Josh also asked JJ to add some electric piano to the verses and synth to the whole thing, which he did in a very mind-bending syncopated way. Josh then added some guitar to the high end to thicken things up a bit.
  We then sent the finished product back to Christian to add his thoughtful, inspired lyrics and signature vocals to his song. This is what Christian had to say about how the lyrics came about. 
  "[Being an avid reader], I came along the sentence, 'We write and make art to show our wounds to the world,' reading an interview with Paul Auster (1947-2024). He died earlier this year, yet his novels are legendary. There was talk about creativity, manifoldness and what the personality consists of. 
  "I can’t remember where that interview was and basically I wrote the lyrics around this sentence attributed to him. 
  "I quote another writer, Goethe (1749-1832), with a famous quotation from "Faust,“ 'Two souls, Alas, housed in my breast...' That points in the right thematic direction in my opinion.
For sure the lyrics also contain other layers of meanings, much more personal…
I am also happy about the title of the song 'We Are Many'. I think Tez came up with it. I was unsure for very long, what’s the name of that song… :)"
  After we had it in the bag, we asked mix-master Tez to produce and mix it, so what you hear is also his creative vision for the project. We hope you enjoy listening to this as much as we enjoyed creating it.
 
Original "We Are Many" lyrics by Xian:

1
To me it seems very obviously
That my I is not a unity
Rather a bunch of personalities
I got a problem with multiplicities

ref
We write and make „art“ 
To show our wounds to the world
We write and make „art“ …

2
I am no self-contained identity
Cut off by other possibilities
No border guards set up at the boundary
Enforce the claim to exclusivity

ref
We write and make „art“ 
To show our wounds to the world
We write and make „art“…
„I“ writes and makes „art“
To heal the wounds of the heart

3
„Two souls, alas, housed in my breast…“
We hope, that if we do confess
To get rid of this fallacy
And collect the splits of personality

ref
We write and make „art“ 
To show our wounds to the world
I write and make „art“
To heal the wounds of my heart

out
There is
A consolation in round things
There is
A consolation in round things 
A consolation in round things
Oh, ohh,
„I“, „I“,
Oh…

We Are Many (Eclectic Collective with Xian3 and Holger Engel)

Sorrows Of Life

Once in a while I can coax Keith to put his talents toward  a ballad, and this is one of those infrequent endeavours.
Keith is a rocker at heart, while I tend to the contemplative and ambient slice of life and music. We compromise often. This time, Keith sensed his way through the lightness of the music. Though piano is the main source of movement and texture, there is a Native Instruments "Irish harp" VSTi in here too.
A mellow summer? Time to catch up on some summer reading? Here's a bookmark.

Available for free D/L , track 10 of Spittle and Spite found here: https://www.terrywigmore.com/wigmore-allen-gibbons

Lyrics
Bookmark
You found me in a barren land
And turned it all verdant green
I think it was page seventeen
You are the bookmark…on the page that I have lost
You are the bookmark…on the page that I have lost
Forever
Well riddles will come and riddles will go
Like the riddle of the Snark
To drive you mad…to drive you quite mad
You are the bookmark…for the page 
You are the bookmark…for the page
(INST)  …for the page
(You’re my bookmark)
This is the place
You’re my save point
You’re my bookmark
Pages that held us both together… to hold us… now…
Tears us both apart
Tears us both apart

Wigmore: Music, Production
Allen: Bass, Guitar, Vocals, Lyrics
(c) and (p) WAG @2024

Spittle and Spite

Bookmark

Time And Space

Smoke drifting  memory
changes and dissipates
changes what we anticipate 
or where we thought we’ve been 

whirling winds blow through the past
we accidentally  got here much too fast
too much time to think and look around

Someday I might come to find
I’m missing what I left behind 
but for now,  I’m good for now

Carry something for too long
it becomes a part of you
hard to know just what you’ll do 
without it, on your own 

Maybe there should be a fight
where I walk off into the night
I keep walking 
and it keeps being night 

Could be somewhere down the line
I’ll  remember  what I had in mind
but for now,  I’m good for now


If I had a schedule I think I’d be behind 
it’s a long way to Coney Island
There no one waiting on me and
the ocean’s doing fine I’ll 
take my time, and whatever time I find 

Waves are crashing on the shore 
The water rushing back for more but for now, I’m good for now


This world is wide and them oceans are  
deep I’ll take what I can carry,  see what I can keep, and the

Rain is falling on the sand 
I can see the steam rising up,
and the sea is shining green

Buried ‘long this long coast line
are treasures I might never find
but for now, I’m good for now




Coney Island

2017-05-09 1512

Hey up Ryuk!

This is the last one of 44 songs I wrote with my mom’s Spanish guitar in my university years, songs I’ve been arranging and posting to SC for the last 6 years (I’ve skipped 4 of them which will become a conceptual album soon).

I’m so glad to have https://soundcloud.com/janinelevinson’s help on polishing the English texts and lending her vocal and painting arts to such an important song for me.

Also must credit https://soundcloud.com/user-498459842 for kindly and freely mastering the track.
 
CANCIÓN TRISTE CUANDO ESTOY SOLO (SAD SONG WHEN I’M ALONE)

Canción triste cuando estoy solo, para que sepas que yo nunca me iré.
Canción triste por todo lo que amo, último recuerdo de lo que pudo ser.

Sad song when I'm alone, so that you know I will never be gone.
Sad songs for all I love, are the last reminders of my ancient glow.

Do you think that someone somewhere else would ever care that I was here?
Do you think a future living man will give a damn for you and me?
Who could he be?

¿Piensas que a alguien a quien no conocí le importará si estuve aquí,
o no estuve yo?
¿Piensas que alguien que viva después se acordará de ti o de mí?
¿Quién podrá ser?

Canción triste…

¿Piensas que una nueva vida de amor nos bastará para creer,
para sentir?
¿Acaso te importa lo que piense la gente de mis intereses para morir por mí,
para morir por mí?

Do you think another life of love will be enough for us to see,
for us to feel?
Do you care what people really think about my pride, and will you die,
will you die with me?

Sad song…

ER44FI11 1997-2018

Canción triste cuando estoy solo (ft. Janine Levinson)

(Don't follow me here, best on my main page ;)

Thx for visiting and listening, I am an amateur guitarist, play a little keybord, bass and drums too. I love music.

Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You W/ Docvet

Little Man

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