'Flow'

Falsestart: rhythm & bass
Scotty: lead, lyrics, vocals

I'm somewhere stuck in the middle.
I can't decipher these riddles.
I know I must but can't seem to let it go.
The strength to see through these billows
brings restless nights to my pillows.
Spiraling, I can't seem to let it go.
I'm digging deep into will, though,
or it continues to kill, slow.
Spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling.
I must find a 'good' way to overcome.
Spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling. 
I must find a 'good' way to overcome
or I will succumb. 

Society, I'm finding,
is difficult surviving.
It's in my mind, I just gotta let it go.
Inside, I feel I'm dying.
Can't stop these tears from crying.
It's in my mind, I just gotta let it go.
Although you see me trying,
can't keep myself from flying.
It's in my mind, I just gotta let it go.
I can't do so when I am feeling low.
It's in my mind, I just gotta let it go.
I can't do so when I am feeling low.
So, I rise again. 

Your influence; uplifting. 
I feel my spirit shifting.
Negatives; I know I can let 'em go.
My brain's begun its sifting
to keep my mind from drifting.
Negatives; I know I can let 'em go.
This strength, it comes within me.
My destiny's within reach.
Negatives; I know I can let 'em go.
Go, go, go, go, go, go.... 

Here I am. 
My own man.
With no plans.
Flow.


flow (with Falsestart)

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

No Prayers For November (featuring Tom Waits)

Vidéo YouTube : https://youtu.be/xpmxidMUL8g
 
Roots  (Racines : à la suite en Français )

My dear brother , my Theo 
Thank you for your letter and the bill but it's too much
Since things are going well for you and yours 
What do we have to do with what is less so?
My dear brother , my Theo
You have your share in my work, my paintings 
which in the debacle keep their calm, and that's beautiful!

I risk my life in my work
my reason has half melted away.
I've already had bouts of madness
my condition must have worsened.

My dear brother, my Theo 
I'm a burden to you, for me it's too much 
You owe it to your son, to your family 
my painting will never be a source of profit. 
 
My dear brother , my Théo  
I'm sending you "Roots", my last painting.
I'm going to finish it with my blood
then die at the Ravoux: it's high time.


I'm risking my life for my work
my reason has half melted.
I've already had bouts of madness
my condition is only getting worse.  

My dear brother Theodore
lying beside me, what a comfort
you have joined me now in Auvers
where we rest, my brother, two feet under!

My work cost me my life
my sanity melted away
I had many fits of madness
my state was desperate.


Racines 

Mon cher frère , mon Théo 
Merci de ta lettre et du billet mais c’est trop
Puisque cela va bien  pour toi et les tiens 
Qu’avons nous à faire de ce qui l’est moins ?
Mon cher frère , mon Théo
Tu as  ta part dans mon oeuvre , mes tableaux 
qui dans la débâcle gardent leur calme , et c’est beau !

Mon travail à moi j’y risque ma vie
ma raison y a fondu à moitié .
J’ai déjà eu des accès de folie
mon état a du s’aggraver .

Mon cher frère , mon Théo 
Je suis une charge pour toi , pour moi s’en est trop 
Tu te dois à ton fils , à ta famille 
ma peinture ne sera jamais une source de profit . 
 
Mon cher frère , mon Théo  
je t’envoie  « Racines «  mon dernier tableau .
Je vais le terminer avec mon sang
puis mourrir chez les Ravoux  : il est grand temps .


Mon travail à moi j’y risque ma vie
ma raison y a fondu à moitié .
J’ai déjà eu des accès de folie
mon état ne fait que s’aggraver .  

Mon cher frère Theodore
allongé près de moi , quel réconfort
tu m’as rejoint à présent à Auvers
où nous reposons , mon frère , deux pieds sous terre !

Mon travail à moi m’a couté la vie
ma raison y a fondu en entier
J’ai eu de nombreux accès de folie
mon état était désespéré .

Racines (translated in description )

DAGDA // When the father of the Celtic gods drops by ...
@docfritz // Composition, Arrangement, Soundscapes, Drums, Artwork, Mix & Production
@toni-fatu // all extraterrestrial guitars
© 2024 | OESJ | ORCHESTRA OF ELECTRIC SPACEJAZZ

DAGDA (feat. ToNi FaTu)

Another Foundation track. It was the bass synth that inspired the track, it made me think of an anti-gravity engine... 
The "machine gun" guitar is a Fender Telecaster bi-amped to give that meaty punch. The warbling guitar is a Deusenberg Paloma with a vibrato pedal, reverse delay and fuzz box put through a plexi amp.

The Edge

For just one Smile

Waiting Room (2016) Anthology CD1 Track 10

Stronger (2018) Anthology CD1 Track 09

angel's sufferings

01 - SA - LCOT - Space Chatter_HCT - Ghouls on Hovercrafts
02 - SA - WE - A Simple Start
03 - SA - Albion One - All Combinations - Brs_Str. hight Trem
04 - Sonuscore - The Orchestra Complete - Moment of Decision
05 - Sonuscore - The Orchestra Complete - Elven Choir Sustain Vowels
06 - NI - Noire Felt
07 - NI - STRAYLIGHT - Exquisite Pulse

Don't Worry

idematoa