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Improvisation in whole tone based on the poem by SN Solomons after Verhaeren's Les Horloges
In the dark silence of the home
crutches and walking sticks
go up and down the stairs of time
The clocks
Enamelled flowers, old devices,
Numerals old and lean
On looming lunar faces
May be seen.
Hammer and ratchet, leaden chime
and crafty wooden words.
The conversation of the time may be heard.
Dark time posts in the hall,
Coffins sealed in the wall,
Bones of old time
devoured by the hours,
The clocks, willing and vigilant,
Like ancient servants,
limp in their clogs along the years,
And punctuate my fears.
The original Verhaeren poem:
La nuit, dans le silence en noir de nos demeures,
Béquilles et bâtons, qui se cognent, là-bas ;
Montant et dévalant les escaliers des heures,
Les horloges, avec leurs pas ;
Emaux naïfs derrière un verre, emblèmes
Et fleurs d'antan, chiffres maigres et vieux ;
Lunes des corridors, vides et blêmes,
Les horloges, avec leurs yeux ;
Sons morts, notes de plomb, marteaux et limes,
Boutique en bois de mots sournois
et le babil des secondes minimes,
Les horloges, avec leurs voix ;
Gaines de chêne et bornes d'ombre,
Cercueils scellés dans le mur froid,
Vieux os du temps que grignote le nombre,
Les horloges et leur effroi ;
Les horloges
Volontaires et vigilantes,
Pareilles aux vieilles servantes
Boîtant de leurs sabots ou glissant sur leurs bas,
Les horloges que j'interroge
Serrent ma peur en leur compas.
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3. |
Toe in the Water
05:25
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5. |
Sexy impro
04:19
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6. |
Dorian Serendipity
01:46
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7. |
New Troubadour Blues
06:13
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Woke up Sunday mornin' and notes went spinnin' round.
What can I sing for the New Troubadours Troubadours?
Woke up wake up woke up wake up.
What can I sing for the New Troubadours?
Oh! I just godda sing the Blues the New Troubadour Blues
'cos there's nothing they like better than the Blues.
I got those New Troubadour Blues.
'cos there's not a single chord these Blues refuse;
not a single note I cannot choose.
Then it was Monday evenin' with no more words in mind;
notes they still kept spinnin'
but no cause could they find.
What can I sing for the New Troubadours?
So, here's a sad Blues with a walkin' bass.
it'll walk all over you,
leavin' muddy footprints
So here's a sad Blues, Blues, Blues
So here is a walkin' bass.
oh! why am I walkin'
with a muddy walkin' bass
waitin' for words to come?
Blues Blues Blues Blues Blues Blues
waitin' for words to come
Oh those sad Blues
I got those New Troubadour Blues.
New Troubadour Blues 'cos there's not a single chord these Blues refuse!
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Lookin' just lookin' is a humorous look at the personal "lonely hearts" ads, although the composer invented the actual adverts in this song, to avoid possible late-night phone calls…! The personalities advertising for the loves of their lives in this song range in age from 24 to 92, they are all very genuine people, please don't hurt their feelings as you snigger!
Young man, twenty four,
lookin' for a soul mate:
slim dark handsome versatile.
Who will answer?
Will it be the man of my dreams?
Will he be the one,
will he write to me,
will he like my style,
will we get on?
Looking, just looking
at the personal ads,
can we find true love?
Are they the people
waiting only for us?
Waiting for a letter,
waiting for a letter,
looking, looking.
Kindly lady, thirty eight,
cuddly butch and lively,
likes a laugh and country walks.
Who will answer?
Will it be the girl of my dreams?
Will she be the one,
will she write to me,
will she like my style,
will we get on?
[Chorus]
Leather wearing, fifty four,
into whips and bondage:
genuine answers only, please!
Who will answer,
will it be the whip of my dreams?
Will he be the one,
will he write to me,
will he like my style,
will we get on?
[Chorus]
Grey panther ninety two,
into older women,
cuddle to my Zimmerframe,
Who will answer,
will it be the crutch of my dreams?
Will she be the one,
will she write to me,
will she like my style,
will we get on?
[Chorus]
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9. |
Beetles' Wings
03:23
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Pantheistic Catholic poem by Audrey Vaughan - the love for the Deity is found all round in nature.
The guitar part reflects some of the flitting fleeting
moments of insect wings. The vocal part soars up to
my (then) highest broadcastable note!
My love for you
grows beetle's wings
Black pearls
sparking firedrops
Under the low'ring
September sun
My love for you
sends a winter flash
Of radiant blue
Between frost
silver banks
In the sunset time
of January's afternoon
My love for you blows
heather scent upon the wind
And tosses the cries
of flying grouse
And wings to beat
a moorland sky
My love finds wind-flowers
by a Cranham lane
And black bright eyes
safe and wide
under frets of golden fern
My love for you
paints God across the earth
In clouds like flowers
And rain like fishes' scales
In waters blue of sky
And birds like flakes of snow
My love sings
anthems with the moon
And writes
symphonies with rainbows
My love is life and breath
And breath is praise...
©Audrey Vaughan
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David Warin Solomons Sale, UK
Composer from UK born in 1953, concentrating on lyrical and tonal works for chamber music combinations, solo voice and choral works.
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