nice guitar sound and beautiful melody! good rock track!🎸✨✨

This was recorded in the front room, just me and guitar, couple of years ago. Unfortunately I haven't been able to play in this style for the last 12months due to a wrist injury, hence why my recent songs have been more strummy. 

This is The Rain, cheers!


The Rain

Hello! Here is a new collab! I bring my keyboard, clarinet and glockenspiel to the awesome drums of my friend @soundsofthekosmos. If you like this, don't miss to check our album "HIGHFLUX": https://ariad-music.com/music/highflux

Defrosted Sun

it could happen

We’re on our way!!! In the positive 🤩

It’s All Downhill From Here

Inspired by the use of silence as a powerful musical tool used by Nadir. I took some scary musical risks at 2.5 minutes. Trying to be comfortable playing some uncomfortable notes that are normally harmonically musical enemies of each other.
Check out Nadìr on #SoundCloud
https://on.soundcloud.com/zHRVZ


Windowsill

Yars Treely

125 Dm Farewell RR

Euthanasia In Reverse

Written and Composed by Me featuring Charlie Chaplin's Final Speech

The Way Of Life (Charlie Chaplin Speech)

melancholy

some instruments, including synth and the pulsating synth bed, mix: tea are sea @tea_are_sea
other instruments, narration, mix: sonic structures and silent stretches
method: some back and forth, with stonerjazz and re-evolution café orchestra sometimes listening in and edging on
narration: the thirteen canto poem finds its way into sound, a canto at a time
image: copyright jo richter, using a detail of my photo of a magazine depiction of the phaistos disc as one element among others

info: there is one more version of this canto to emerge from other collab partners. LOOK FORWARD!

poem / copyright jo richter

How long he stayed, he could not tell.
He worked ferociously, sounding all
existence that had touched upon him into
being: the smell of meadows, the curl of
ripples, the calm that centers in a storm;
the timbre of voices, the straight lines of buildings,
the aloofness of announcers on the radio.
His desk was cluttered, his mind strove clear.

When he did not write, he‘d read up on
the origins of his ancient art: Vergil and Dante,
Marlow and Shakespeare, Homer and Joyce,
Ovidus, Cervantes, Rabelais and Wieland.
He felt the linguistic seeds, blown from foreign
stems, grow filaments deep in his native soil, he
saw them ripen, flower profusely, yielding
their beauty to ever-changing mentalities.

And as his insight widened and he gained
perspective, the rows of encyclopedias
and dictionaries that lined his shelves
slimmed down, as he gave up consulting
English for French and German, these for
Latin and Greek, those for Persian and Sanskrit,
until he only referred to Indo-European roots.
His desk turned clear, his mind became uncluttered.

Eventually, he also slept and dreamt
whenever the veil sank upon him.
Guarded by the spire‘s safe walls, he would
awaken slowly, remembering outlandish
lore, scribbling notes and poems of bizarre
truthfulness and penning recollections of his
archetypal ties. Some of his realistic verse de-
rived from fragments of prolonged poetic trance.

His muse meanwhile taught him to cook, the
art of mixing individual ingredients to bring about
a taste all of its own that nourishes both mind and
physicality. The painters tend to fixate on surface
and colour, she said, the musicians on timing
the process, whereas the poets never get anything
done, enchanted by words like ‚ginger‘ or ‚yeast‘.
All of their dishes taste awful.

canto iv

Departure Canto iv with Tea Are Sea

Guitar Player, Track maker and Architect.

125 Dm Farewell RR

Rinta 64.2

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Rinta 64.2

h a r a

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