@sonic-textures

procedure: Jeff and jo co-composed the lines that eventually made it into the lyrics. Jeff then selected and condensed those lines into a single poem and recorded a spoken version. jo added some modulation and instrumentation, mostly urban field recordings and vst (organ, cello, choir) in quite a gritty mix. Jeff created a mellotron track as well as a remodulation of the reading and jo added some delayed quitar and incorporated all of that into the mix. Eventually, Jeff performed an amazing e-bow solo which jo aðded into the brew - asking his software to also magic up some time reversal and stretching .... ah, the hermetic arts of the mixing desk! image: copyright jo richter

lyrics / copyright Jeff gardiner and jo richter:

I dreamed of bees and she's ensconced
lovingly covered in wax and honey
in her shock

Coy teenagers carry their mothers' frigid deferral
on their sleeves
enticing the junk yard louts -
creating silver bullets for the gentlemen of lore

The porter took the luggage through a doorway made of fog
- snake masters of the charming trades and the Gorgon in the lobby
offer terror as a benefit and a hobby

Fake slaughter of willing lambs
souls embalmed in resin prayers
heretics and fools
buying artificial artifacts from the vendors
in the palace lobby after hours

While towers in the distance seem to shimmer
in the brilliant heat of golden stars exploding
in the summer of his thoughts
while the unknown spawn of heavy metal Gibson psalms
is inspired by the razor wire,  coiled
and singing in the wind

Psalms- With Jo and Jeff-

@mahan-mahan
The Genius of Mahan Mahan is responsible for and the creator of All instrumentals/ musical arrangements / mixes and Production--

Stonerjazz -lyrics and vocals

Burning Pages
by jeff gardiner

mother mother may i have another moment in the light
sister brother seeking renovation in a nation with an ugly reputation
but never meeting in the middle
and craters morphing into something more connected
Lovers haters
closely followed by the wind that wanders all about
while we shout
we didnt know the difference and we didnt till much later
When the blooms had all fallen from the bush
and i was standing at the crossroads
smoking cigarettes with god
while she was telling jokes about the devil

Always hope to give and get
a final gesture of concern
thats not too much to ask
all things being equal as they are
how far we must have traveled and when we wagered on a winner
and free dinner and other things that sings
about a history told by a boneless prophet in a moment of reprisal
on that holy desert, about a twirly girly and a swirly apparition

Will you tell me if you know the truth about the candle in the window
and why it's lit, and the whereabouts of the lighter
was he a fighter in the revolution where the Guiot tine was king?

it didnt matter to the mother, she was not appeased
and dreadful weather it continued unabated,
they should have left it, but they didn't
being human as they are
bit it really didnt change the nature of the crisis,

The silent witness standing on the corner in the Rain
finially had a reason to recite
the dictim of the ages. burning pages after pages after pages
as she read them in a rage..

Turning Pages---- with ↯Mahan↯💀↯Mahan↯

Orchestration mix and production by ↯Mahan↯💀↯Mahan↯ @mahan-mahan
lyrics and vocal by Stonerjazz

i forgot to not think about anything at all
i really dropped the ball
never gonna make it to the hall a fame
that's a shame-
everybody ought to have a shot to show the people what you got

it doesnt matter now cause i'm old
or so i'm told
but what the hell does anybody know anyway
this is only one of infinite scenarios
everybody ought to turn the volume up on their Stereos everybody ought to turn the volume up on their Stereos

Infinite Scenarios  ~with ↯Mahan↯💀↯Mahan↯ (turn the volume up on your stereo)

Teamed up again with my amazingly talented friend Mahan💀Mahan who did all the orchestration and engineering on this Song--
Lyric and vocals by Stonerjazz

The captain and his crew
were weeping as they knelt
upon the steps., outside the palace foyer
Righteous warriors every single one

Reflections of the sun
children of the other
the protectors of the mother
humble in their confidence of failure
unaffected by the outcome
broken hearted with the truth
grieving for their youth

And yet their heads held high
fighting tiny battles
in anticipation of something Better

its the inner not the outer
its the quiet not the shouter
its the powder not the pistol
its the battle not the score
its the boatman on the water
and the sparkle on the river
and the distant glimmer from the shore...

Captain And His Crew With Mahan💀Mahan

The headwaters for this song is based on a beautiful electric Guitar song that Stephen had living in his hard drive for a long time--i had some lyrics sitting unused and unloved in a notebook--this is the result--Stephen is the producer electric guitar player and everything else but the acoustic guitar and vocals which is me) Cheers to my friends and strangers out there in soundcloud land--huge thanks to Stephen and a pre thank you to all who may pass this way--jeff g

She was a beauty in her prime at 17
at 31 she was sublime
The way her body moved and the bedroom promise in her
made men and woman bold with her desire
She had those bedroom eyes yeah she had those bedroom eyes

I wasn't able to appreciate the nature of her twisted intellect and drive twards darker things
i don't suppose i liked her all that much before i loved her-
I cannot deny that beauty has a value
though I'm not all that entanged in the reasons for that revelation
Being Biological in Nature'
if they exist at all, the benefits cannot be quantified
She was a psycho psycho Pathic nympho Maniac and i loved her dearly!!

Bertha ( featuring TexMex Shaman )

liner notes: this song took some maze-walking to arrive at its destination. our album of collaborations on bandcamp ( stonerjazz.bandcamp.com/album/up-up-out ) spawned a sonic thank-you card from Jeff. the lyrics came together fast and dirty from both Jeff and I. soon, we had enough material for several parts. references to literature and history spanned all around us like a rainbow bubblegum bubble inflated by the selfish lungs of a baby dictator. at some point, even a common friend joined our efforts which then led to side-projects being spawned. all of this turned into a creative tornado driven by such an energy that I could not stand it anymore and withdrew to the sidelines .... and just a few days later Jeff shared this beauty with all new music to our common lyrics. jeff, my friend, you're a ****** genius! Generously, Jeff indulged me in accepting the suggestion for a cover image I produced - based on a Budapest statue I photographed in 2011. no, the world is not spinning as fast as our creative processes - but you need a darn good stomach for sure .... and hope still sits somewhere in the dark looking out, wide-eyed. jo
                       
    A Makeshift Life--co-written by Jo Richter and Jeff Gardiner


we do not need a future
we do not need a past
the eagle glides where people fall
Oceana Oceana Oceana , Eurasia

a makeshift life
instructions not included
do you want to sing along
with a wordless song
that goes like this--
blah blah blah 
blah blah blah

carved from duty
eugenic beauty
Hugo Boss is your tailor
ordained and named in the mainframe

look at the broken plans you fixed
or all those cigarettes you smoked
think about the dogs you might have known
or those Righteous fights you fought
or friends who've come and gone
does it matter or does it not-

it’s another helpless history day
and that genie in the laptop has had his say
just check the box is still okay
just check Pandora’s box is still okay

TAYGETUS MONS (1984 REVISIONIST EDITION) The Half Life series

The first Smoking Trout song since the last Holy Dumpling song--So great to make some music with Terry and his wonderful Synth Runs and Stephen's magical guitar Play--Many thanks to my digital home boys and greeting to all my Soundcloud friends old and New--
Terry also did the excellent production and artwork on this project=
I wrote the poem and did the vocals in response to what is happening to our world in these very strange days--Hope ya'll Enjoy The Music--

Always get a little sentimental
in the middle of the conversation
when i think about all the options offered
during the assimalation

when the level of concern
and the nature of the consternation
for the mundane and the useless
made it difficult to accept or advocate the privilege
and the worship of the lucky landing of the crooked Cowboys

Though sentimental in its nature
its making meditations incomplete
and decisions Faulty
just distractions while we fiddle in the middle of another Crisis
in the simulation
and the monkeys say "Good good Real good yum yum yum yum
now we're gonna get some Yeah"

Assimilation-The Smoking Trout -Tea R Sea-TexMex Shaman

Well laid down an enthralling, fast-paced, sweaty-eyed dancefloor track, calling it an open collab. 
Stonerjazz picked it up, marrying it to his expressive voice and instruments. As the ancient art of 
maieutic (look it up) serendipity (look this one up as well) would have it, Jeff and I had just finished 
an amazing poem which finely expressed what he heard in Well's sound. I can only guess how many 
hours he spent adding this, fine-tuning that, getting the balance right. In the end it sat there, all 
groomed in its weekday suit and asked to go out and play. Yeah, why don't you do that? (That's how 
jo tells the story at least).
 


My good and dear friend Jo Richter and I have been practicing a form of commando Free association poetry for a little bit now, Firing multiple replies to each others words across the void, rapidly --This Poem is one such project-- Initially done lightning Fast and then refined and modified for lyrical Flow and meaning-- To further complicate the process, i with Jo's encouragement used these word and some Sounds from my deepmind 6 to answer an open collaboration with music by our friend Well aka Hakan Skeneby

Poem / copyright Jeff Gardiner and jo richter:
 Original tile: Kung Tze in the Subway Car

 in the nick of time
 he gave in to dissent
 for the mute perceptive mime
 manically made him raise his head and unmaimed hand in mine


 praise the unerring rebellion
 in subconsentious unison 

the empty shells of every single silly little thing
 ahh, the knell, the bells, fashioned from our fathers’ coral vaults 
selling out, shelling round, all around in disarray 

vainly making everybody wane and wade into the fray
 with withered, bamboo-watered canes - - - fracking shist
 where our homes are still purported to exist
 while scattered scraps of all things past, scantily, scantily clad, 

protrude and flutter in the wind, strained and restrained by the net 
of pleasant pleas -  and subltleties are colors bright and crude - 
watch the Mad Hatter's stint unwind in minor keys - 

i thought that that  - that hat that sat so squat- was you
 at the academy of sovereignty
 where massive piles of bones and crows
 dominate the dark demeanor of the distant 

tears of laughter, tears of loudly lovin’ laughter, that's exactly what we're after

in the purple land of diffidence
 buying purple brands of pale deliverance 
in the hidden forgotten region, religion
 
where forgetting – like neglecting - is an optional behavior
 and of course, everybody's carcass, corpse keeps looking for a savior
 down by the trodden, the unsavoury sovereign shouted 

raw with the rotten game of galactic gallows and thrones 
ah the one and only poet of starvation
 standing in the market of used emotion
 endless isles, end base piles of sadness
 masters mean and dirty and their slaves

 bargain bins of binary longing, belonging, unrequited love
 there’s a sale on betrayal - two for a dollar and three for none
 thought i saw a broken bit of joy that once belonged to me 
Though when i had it, it was absolutely free
 Now they're askin’ fifty, literally  frivolous dollars

mother of deception of the self
 see me on my knees, subordinate 
to her immaculate calamity
 that has transactional realities cooperate
 under towers dark with blinded blinds 
of my infantile infinity-

i asked my shadow: would she follow me 
like a puppy with a crush, herself a pet invertebrate,
 to inclinations more persian, more parisian than her will or mine 
where i might find a package deal on Love 

on the moon, it read in slowly moving neon letters - 
shadows neither show nor speak concerning prinal matters!
 no, said I, shadows squall and squeal and squeak
 drinking gin on the rocks is not that bad at all
 since it became impossible to find an Avocado
 or my favorite alcohol
 just don't answer when she fails to call

Hakan's Shuffle(the Nitro club mix) in collaboration with Well and Jo Richter-140bpm

method: vst, mainly, and balabolka TTS - until Jeff plucked his guitar into that magic pedal .... I had to dumb the upload down from wav to mp3 to make soundcloud accept it.

narration: you might be familiar with the lyrics - yes, this is the very poem you have heard on Hakan's Shuffle in a different setting ;-)

The Body of this grand orchestral work is Jo's -some additional music was provided by me using a a fender custom parallel universe Telecaster running through a mel 9 pedal on a cello setting-Together We created the words using a freestyle technique that yields words and ideas that are surprising to even Us--It is such a privilege and an honor  to conspire  
with Mr. Jo Richter-- greetings to those of you that find your way to this , song.  I hope you enjoy...

image: copyright jo richter (using elements photographed on a theatre in Budapest in 2009)

Poem / copyright Jeff Gardiner and jo richter:

in the nick of time
he gave in to dissent
for the mute perceptive mime
manically made him raise his head and unmaimed hand in mine

praise the unerring rebellion
in subconsentious unison
the empty shells of every single silly little thing
ahh, the knell, the bells, fashioned from our fathers’ coral vaults

selling out, shelling round, all around in disarray
vainly making everybody wane and wade into the fray
with withered, bamboo-watered canes - - - fracking shist
where our homes are still purported to exist

while scattered scraps of all things past, scantily, scantily clad,
protrude and flutter in the wind, strained and restrained by the net
of pleasant pleas - and subltleties are colors bright and crude -
watch the Mad Hatter's stint unwind in minor keys -
i thought that that - that hat that sat so squat- was you

at the academy of sovereignty
where massive piles of bones and crows
dominate the dark demeanor of the distant
tears of laughter, tears of loudly lovin’ laughter, that's exactly what we're after

in the purple land of diffidence
buying purple brands of pale deliverance
in the hidden forgotten region, religion
where forgetting – like neglecting - is an optional behavior
and of course, everybody's carcass, corpse keeps looking for a savior

down by the trodden, the unsavoury sovereign shouted
raw with the rotten game of galactic gallows and thrones
ah the one and only poet of starvation
standing in the market of used emotion

endless aisles, end base piles of sadness
masters mean and dirty and their slaves
bargain bins of binary longing, belonging, unrequited love
there’s a sale on betrayal - two for a dollar and three for none

thought i saw a broken bit of joy that once belonged to me
Though when i had it, it was absolutely free
Now they're askin’ fifty, literally frivolous dollars--

mother of deception of the self
see me on my knees, subordinate
to her immaculate calamity
that has transactional realities cooperate
under towers dark with blinded blinds
of my infantile infinity--

i asked my shadow: would she follow me
like a puppy with a crush, herself a pet invertebrate,
to inclinations more persian, more parisian than her will or mine
where i might find a package deal on Love -

on the moon, it read in slowly moving neon letters -
shadows neither show nor speak concerning primal matters!
no, said I, shadows squall and squeal and squeak

drinking gin on the rocks is not that bad at all
since it became impossible to find an Avacado
or my favorite alcohol
just don't answer when she fails to call-

Kung Tze in the SubwayCar -with Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches

It's just up over that Next Hill ( from The Half-Life project on bandcamp)

Since i no longer have a Pro Status, my minutes are limited--Many songs had to be deleted from this page--But they have been migrated to Bandcamp--in form of albums--That is a work in progress--The half life series(which are songs with short term stays on soundcloud) will find its permanent home on Bandcamp in the form of an lp- Followers and listeners are hard to come by on Bandcamp for reason that are unclear, but if you get a chance please give that music a little Love-- Thanks to all my soundcloud Friends new and old:) see links below! cheers jeff g--

This track is not available anymore.

Other tracks from STONERJAZZ