Stefano Manotti -  Endless Road

Performed by Stefano Manotti

Written by Stefano Manotti

All rights reserved ©

Arrangement and mixing : Giulio Carmassi (ex Pat Metheny group)

Executive production and mastering : Paolo Schianchi and OmniaMusica Recording Studio


The wind of hope
Rushes through the night 
Like a swift bird passing by 
And a love light shines 
Silver in the distance
Where fatigue and sadness leave
And a need appears

I’m waiting to meet you 
On an endless road
With a free wind blowing even more

And you are a stranger
You are one of those
That could help inflame
inflame my soul

Now sadness plays the blues 
Without notes or beats
With a strong desire to erase 
Blank faces in the street


What you perceive 
Has just cooled inside
But the past, like a dream
Will always warm your cry 


I’m waiting to meet you 
On an endless road
With a free wind blowing even more

And you are a stranger
You are one of those
That could help inflame
inflame my soul

Endless Road

For Pride Month. This is a rough version with just me and the guitar. The real version will be a 90's dance song, hopefully with not flat vocals, hopefully this weekend

This is not about you,
Your life is not about who I love, or the things I do
You’re not the one that I answer to

But it’s not about me
There’s more to my life than i will ever know, than i’ll ever see
I don’t hurt anyone just let this be

I have no voice but I can speak
I don’t like what you do to me
I say it’s time we make a stand

It’s more than tonight
It’s more than my fight
This is my right
This is my life

Do you feel the beat
It’s the pulse of the world
Where the people meet to let their flag unfurl

Do you feel it?

What does it matter to you
How i live my life, or what I believe, or the path I choose
Look inside, are you afraid to face the truth

We all need to be
Fragile and fearless, wild and free, you see 
for fate of the world, for our destiny 

Love is blind but I still see
And I don’t like what you’ve done to me
I see bloodstains on your hands!

Do you feel the beat
It’s the pulse of the world
Where the freaks all meet to let their flags unfurl

not about you (acoustic)

A Portuguese Cyrano, how would he be?

I have an older version (not published here in SoundCloud) with a faster tempo. Here I tried to slow it down to see if it still works.


Nascido para vencer,
senhor do meu nariz.
Mas tu podes crer:
Nunca serei nada neste país
à beira-mar plantado.
Já não escapo do meu fado.
Só me resta ser feliz.

E as melodias, e os sonhos desta arte
seguem-nos,
seguem-nos por toda a parte.
E ao partirmos com as lembranças,
com o talento, com a esperança e o sentimento
de uma nova madrugada,
é um novo dia, cheio de versos, de poesia,
e a suave companhia de umas tágides anafadas.
E as doces brisas, e os furacões da sorte
levam-nos
levam-nos para além da morte.

Porque a vida eterna é esta:
Que te conheçam a ti só
por único Deus verdadeiro
e a teu filho, a quem enviaste.

E, ao repousar na terra,
os corpos unem-se às raízes
e as vidas áridas e estéreis
crescem lindas e felizes.

Nascido para vencer, senhor deste país.
Mas tu podes crer: Nunca serei dono do meu nariz
na face mal plantado.
Já não escapo do meu fado.
Só me resta ser feliz.

Nascido Para Vencer (2024)

Lyrics;
Aliens or Angels
Art Bell on the air one night
Said something streaked across the sky
So I searched the stars before morning light
In hope a spaceship would fly by

Watching what's been televised
Hey, are they watching me?
From some dimension as yet unknown
Beyond our technology

Are there Angels down from Heaven
That look out for our soul
Or aliens from outerspace
Who wait to take control

There's a limit to my vision
I'm only flesh and bone
I search for something out there
For some great unknown

Are they here now only waiting
for some fateful day
To show themselves in their true form
In some congenial way

Could eyes out in the universe
See this speck of dust
Orbiting a yellow star
Is someone watching us?

Are there Angels down from Heaven
That look out for our soul
Or aliens from outerspace
Who wait to take control

There's a limit to our vision
We're only flesh and bone
Are there Aliens or Angels
Or are we all alone

George Noory on the air tonight
Speaks of fire in the sky
I search the stars before  morning light
And pray that spaceships will fly by

Aliens Or Angels

Words and music By Roger Whittlesey. Saxophone arrangement by Georg Boehme. Boehme plays soprano, alto, tenor, and baritone saxes. He also plays the bass clarinet. Noel Barrett plays the bass guitar. All other sounds by Whittlesey. © 2024.

Dear Reader, 

In Shakespeare's play "Hamlet," Ophelia drowns herself in what is a terrible and tragic scene late in the play. 

The idea for this song came when I recognized that the grief of loss, missed opportunities, and mistakes compound as we age, and they don't leave us. Instead, these emotions seem to haunt us—often surprising us when we least expect it. And so, these feelings are akin to the tragic drowning of Ophelia, except that they seem to happen again and again—hence the title of the song. 

Georg Boehme, a brilliant arranger, composer, and horns player from Cologne, Germany, joined me on this piece. I sent Georg the basic tracks and gave him no instructions. He knows what to do, and he always exceeds my expectations. His playing on this piece is amazing. As you get to know Georg's music, you will begin to see that he has a unique style, and it shines through in all that he plays. Thank you, Georg, for lending me your immense creative talents. 

Last week, I sent what I believed was the finished version of this song to Noel Barrett, an outstanding bass player from Cork City, Ireland. I knew he would dig the work that Georg did on the track. And he did. Without any prompting, he replaced the bass part that I laid down—and improved the tune tenfold in the process. Noel has rock-solid time and brings a melodic sensibility to everything he plays on the bass. It is a great pleasure and honor to have him guesting on this song. 

Finally, I thank you, my devoted listeners, for your comments and for your repeated returns to my channel. 

I have much more music to write. This is only the beginning of the journey. 

Highest Regards, 

Roger Whittlesey
July 9, 2024

Ophelia Drowns Again

Cherry Picking

Cast of Characters:

Roy Roy – @user-967672349 – Roy – foundational guitar, composition, and arrangement
J.J. Terrell-- @j-j-terrell—JJ-- organ, electric piano, synth sax, synth strings, synth brass, production, and mix
TexMex Shaman– @texmex-shaman –Stephen– whah guitar, and mastering
K2 and the Three [and the Four]--@k2andthe3, @k2-kara –Ken–drums, percussion 
Entheogenic Psychonaught (Josh Clary)– @josh-clary-1 –Josh – 4-string fretless bass

This song began as a well developed, funky disco idea Roy came up with on his guitar, and shared with JJ. JJ added a wonderfully complex orchestration of various keys, including brass, strings, and the sax solo you hear towards the end. 
  JJ invited Stephen Stephen first, who came up with the funky ass wah guitar that also carries the groove. Of course, JJ realized that this is a disco song, so he enlisted Ken to come up with one of his awesome beats to carry it along. JJ had a rudimentary bass line that he played himself, but decided to get Josh to do the honors instead. So, Josh came up with a totally new bass line designed to shake your cheeks.
Once it was in the can, we decided to ask have JJ mix it for us. This is a first time JJ has mixed a song for The Eclectic Collective, and we were all impressed with his work. Stephen mastered it, as he is a master masterer. 
  We're all really impressed and delighted with the experience of working with Roy and his music. He is a very talented artist with a lot of great music to check out on his page, too.
  We hope you enjoy listening to this as much as we enjoyed creating it, and that it makes you shake your hips while you're doing the dishes, too!

Shag Carpet ( w/ The Eclectic Collective )

Still had time to taste some crystals of silence, before the devil began to distort the transparent symmetry.
Hands with arched nails pull up the white raw silk stockings to her knees; she feels a renewed spirit, even though she knows the stockings will eventually come down again.
You can already hear the mud walking outside.
She goes out to buy milk bread at the cafe, when she opens the door of the building; she gives in to the dream the primacy of guiding her, tiptoe over water lilies.
A sting each time a bottle was dropped at the bottom of the recycling bin, she thought of the neighbors who were still sleeping, would they receive messages in their dreams that weren't written on the bottles?
She was reading a book like an actress in rehearsal as she walked down the street in autopilot mode, her knuckles brushing against the fresh morning myths; she was possessed by images in the heavy, noisy air, lines of passion in fragmentation.
People running on the small stone walkway with burning pain in their knees and heels.
He arrives at the cafe, sits down on the terrace where the sun shines, a breath of coffee spreads in the air with mysterious symbols. Under the water mirror of a small lake, roots in the form of clock hands that do not give in to the call of time, clinging to childhood, giant egg in the center of the lake half out of water, has a crack, is full of blood, through the blood a way. In the distance, a rocky slope, dismembered, alienated trees.
Cobalt-blue bodice, pointers tremble little needle screams, shadows in the eyes of the titties, two twin chapels, between them goes the size of your soul, close your eyes and remain static, cathedral of flavors of private cultivation, the pink mouth gives itself naked in the open air a procession courting the skin. Fine silk on which a heart of light is drawn falls from her breasts, with her hands she brushes away things like abracadabra, awakened mystery, creator plush, desert cross, chalice between her legs, soda with bubbles, she plays the organ.
Tights tucked over the head
Horse with a tank top dress pulled over the head
A fishing boat pull rope
Pregnant belly blindfolded
Hair roots
Everything turned upside down
Egg

Useless key - 7-11-2024 translation in description

🐱❤⁂©ALL Rights Reserved 12-2024
©Vocal Bits & Creator: Lady ElectroTrek
***

You Make Me Purr

Your Touch Drives Me Crazy

Im Rosablubberschaumbadtraum/Written,Performed by Uwe Lauterbach

Im Rosablubberschaumbadtraum

PALAIS PLASTIQUE
-------
Des millions d’années séparent, aujourd’hui, de ma confection,
En moins d’un été de gloire, j’initie mon abjuration.
Tu aimes tout, de mes essences, à mes délicieux poisons,
J’ai érigé ta puissance, de tes dires...sur tes addictions !
--
Mais tu te trompes sur ma nature et je n’ai pas ces intentions,
Tu as apposé une lecture, qui gracie bien tes ascensions.
Cette croissance a un prix, et s’entrebâillent, enfin, tes yeux.
Nulles chances infinies, cesse donc, d’y conforter tes dieux.
--
Si je suis belle énergie, me voilà donc, pieux emballages,
J'ai fait Lumières sur tes nuits, comme reproduire toutes tes images.
Comme un singe, tu copies, mon essieu et tous mes usages,
Tu fais prières aguerries, au palais plastique, tu t’engages.
--
Quand j’émaille la substance, tu traduis mondanité.
Ton torrent de mots s’agence, sans jamais dire Sincérités.
Tu sais que tu épuises les sols, incapable de te réguler,
Criant Amish a des boussoles, qui se languissent de tes progrès.
--
J’avais fini mon travail, oui, je dormais enfin au sol !
Tu as foré des entailles et pour mieux justifier ce viol,
Tu as nommé Révolution, ces siècles où Propriété
De terres, et d’Obligations, aux peuples, tu as su imposer.
--
Tu peux conspuer Pétrole, mais j’ai bien plus d’humilité,
Que toi et ceux que tu enrôles, pour mieux te coiffer de lauriers.
Nature est tendre et tolérante, pour disculper tes ambitions,
Mais cette fabrique d’âmes errantes, mène à l'asile maigre Raison.
-
Perdue alors, dans les méandres, de ton beau palais plastique,
Des tribus hémérocalles, en vain, s’usent à fleurir tes briques.
Tout le vivant t’interpelle, y compris les âmes fossiles,
Pour que l'histoire, de plus belles, retrouve un beau terreau fertile.
-
Des millions d’années séparent, aujourd’hui, de ma confection,
En moins d’un été de gloire, j’initie mon abjuration.
Éblouis par mon essence, tu n’as su construire, que prisons.
Retrouve un peu ta puissance, risquant de fuir tes addictions.

-------------------------------------------
Mesdames, Damoiseau, Messieurs, Demoiselles et autres Gueux (c'est mes préférés) 
J'ai l'immense bonheur de vous présenter "Cool is Watching You"!!
Le Nouvel EP de M'Z - la version "concept en musique" de mes travaux de composition.
C'est une critique du cool social par le cool musical...

Dans cet album je m'exerce à adopter un positionnement musical "cool" et souhaite mettre en perspective les limites de cette 'posture', qu'on s'impose, socialement nous même, plus ou moins volontairement et que les réseaux sociaux favorisent largement. 
Posture qui, semble bien plus nous nuire que nous servir. 
"Cool is Watching You" est aussi un point de rencontre en musique entre Orwell et Huxley qui espère guérir le cool par le cool.

7 morceaux que je définirai plus en détails avec des mots dans les jours à suivre, pour favoriser la transe, en attendant je vous laisse le découvrir en sons avec les seuls gros titres comme pistes.

Je remercie Anesthetize Productions et Guillaume Beringer
De m'aider à la diffusion de cet album, n'hésitez pas à les suivre et allez découvrir les divers travaux qu'ils défendent.

Je remercie Pedro Coelho pour m'avoir accompagné avec grand brio sur le morceau Palais plastique et je vous conseille de le suivre également c'est un excellent guitariste et musicien et une très belle personne.

Merci également a la rue on se retrouve a 18h en attendant voilà un cadeau qui j'espère nous donnera de la force !!

Cool is watching you

Palais Plastique

Rye  Dean,  as well
https://on.soundcloud.com/LdSHc88nkPbAQsZ28