Music provided by. 
https://soundcloud.com/the-fisherman
Vocals and Pixie dust provided by Conover
醉心於音樂和藝術的魂

The Fisherman Conover Curve

Chaplin

Use. Abuse. Obtuse.

This a song for all the young Irish Guys and Girls who have had to emigrate to Australia, New Zealand, Tasmania, Canada and the Sahara Desert, I know how you feel just wanting to back in Ireland in the Cold & The Rain. ha ha 
Enjoy. It's a fun song to listen to when your drinking your cool beer.
Written, Performed and Mastered by : Johnny Mc .

So Hot

Hi friends, I am happy to share with you another deeply experimental work that I've created in collaboration with Jo Richter a.k.a. Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches @sonic-structures and Stonerjazz/Jeff @user-911083679

Jo composed an epic long-form poem called 'Departure' that is broken up into 13 'cantos'. He invited me and Jeff to work with him on converting the poetry into a series of musical soundscapes and this is the first resulting mix from me, that is built on top of a track that Jeff produced and released recently: https://soundcloud.com/user-911083679/canto-vi-jeff-unrulywav

Perhaps fittingly, we decided to start in the middle, with 'Canto VI'. Jeff's version contains a full reading of the poem, which gets somewhat buried in my version of the mix. Layered on top of this, I pulled out key passages from the reading, and used them to continue experimenting with splicing and (software) tape manipulation techniques that I've been developing lately. In addition to Jeff's musical backdrop and Jo's spoken word, the rest of the mix is built upon field recordings taken by Jo that I chopped up to create rhythmic/percussive elements which I think add some interesting color and texture. 

Thanks for joining us on this wild ride! If you find this track interesting, then please keep an eye out for future installments in the series. They will be compiled here: https://soundcloud.com/sonic-textures/sets/departure-a-long-poem-in

Here is the full text of Departure - Canto VI, the inspiration for this track: 

Canto VI

This spire, she continued, is but the lasting remnant
of a cave. The very first one to be adorned with ochre
drawings. The very first one in which olorine bone
was carved to sound a flute. All the surrounding
land has sunken since that golden age – but for this
place. Here, Apollo handed the lyre to Orpheus.
A spire now, it has been maintained by entertaining
visitors ike you and by hosting muses like myself.

Now, she pursed her lips, we live in utter confusion.
The inside protrudes like a lofty spire while
the outside caves in like a poet‘s drawer. It is
the epoch of the common, shared arts withdrawing.
The innards of ideologies chaperoning fervent
industries are digesting all there is, all life, all things. 
Consumption prevails; generation has to retreat
to clandestine niches, obscure, barely beheld.

These are tough times for poets, for artists, for
fragile senses and minds. Still, the spire prevails.
Why, do you think, that is? - He felt his breath soften
as he replied: I do apologize for mistaking you,
the first listener and co-creator of art. You are the one
who heard the song Orpheus sang. It was selfish to
think of you as a muse, relating only to me, my art. 
You have listened to the spire and you did understand.

That is how things used to be, she sighed. The poet served,
as you have learned before, those who live to listen well.
He endured the toil of art, they enjoyed the foils of art.
Then the concept of the muse – all upside-down – was
deviously formed to aid the annihilation of the awkward art.
Now that you are aware of this, you soon will have to
leave, as you well know. You have received the only gifts
that this place has to offer, which are a story and some rest.

Is there a way to stay, he asked? I do not want to
compose mixed-up poems in a jumbled-up world. This is
what you are wont to perform, she insisted. But will
I be able to take to shelter when exhaustion takes
over my senses, he asked? You won‘t, she replied,
this is how you serve and die, as any living poet does.
A matter of trust and choice of environment cannot
be settled by impersuasive evasive manoeuvres

Jumbled-Up World (Departure Mix 1): a reimagining of Jo Richter's Canto VI poem, ft. Stonerjazz

The graphic is panel 7 of a major work called The American Dream, 1969, by Australian artist Brett Whitely. Whitely completed the work while in New York in the late 1960s. He said, commenting on the zeitgeist of the time 'I thought...that there would be a catastrophe beyond anything I could imagine...'.

The American Dream

Brand New Collaboration with the Man that is Lou Osiavo https://soundcloud.com/user-659662265
He really hit my heart with this amazing track , i knew i had to write with him on this. The ultra talented artist who has many aliases , IPG , Level One Up , you get the picture , go give him some love.
Lyrics:-
Now is all we've got and
For now 
We're Present
Wow It's such a concept
That now
Is this moment

Now is all we have
And now is over
Now is all we have
And now is over

"WHEN" is just a flicker
Of light 
My friend
"THEN" is just a glimmer
of hope 
Again

Now is all we have
And now is over
Now is all we have
And now is over

Lou Osiavo & winkandwoo 2023

Now Is Over

Now Is Over - Lou Osiavo & winkandwoo

Music, lyrics, vocal & ac. guitar : Grave
Other instrumefnts & mix : PJ Project

Possible Impossibly W/ Grave

This track represents the feeling of someone who knows that his time on earth is done.

Last Goodbye

Don’t know about you, but I’m about fed up with this blatant authoritarian blitzkrieg. Writing songs about it is just the first step. The real goal? Join the march, remove the roadblocks to our dwindling freedom, and fight until democracy is reborn. Let’s stay fired up until our country is whole again—and the mafia-thugs who’ve hijacked our government feel the sting of the voting-booth guillotine. Who’s with me?

Viva la América!

The Law Don’t Live Here Any More.m4a

She’s been crying through the night. Let her cry some more.
Nothing I say makes it right. Think she knows the score.
It’s a diff’rence of opinion, - but it’s more than that.
Neither one of us are winning - winning a lover’s spat.

We pretend to play the game, walking through the motions.
I get mad, she does the same - just one more emotion.
It’s a diff’rence of opinion, - but it’s more than that.
Neither one of us are winning - winning a lover’s spat.

But I - I’m getting tired of trying.
Falling in love - is just one way of dying.

We were sure we had it right, there were no more questions.
Even when we had a fight, we still learned the lesson.
It’s a diff’rence of opinion, - but it’s more than that.
Neither one of us are winning - winning a lover’s spat.

But I - I’m getting tired of trying.
Falling in love - is just one way of dying.

She’s convinced we oughta try, I think we should let it die.
One thing we agree on, it was worth it.
Mercy is the thing we share. If we end up anywhere but dead.

But I - I’m getting tired of trying.
Falling in love - is just one way of dying.

Difference of Opinion

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

Possible Impossibly W/ Grave

Little Man