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Folk Music - Blog Posts
sum i made, nothing compares to the feeling pencil on paper evokes
Sum i made, nothing compares to the feeling pencil on paper evokes
Oh my god I'm listening to California Dreamin' with headphones and. Did you know it's one of those songs that are hardcore spliced up between headphones. Like the female and male voices are mostly coming from seperate headphones.
This makes no difference except for a cool listening experience unless. Unless you take one headphone out.
Ohhh, there's still the faintest echo of the female voices in the male voices' headphone, but half the instruments are missing. It's haunting. It's majestic. It's Denny in a old rehearsal room. It's not really a designated space, it's the backroom of their bar. They jokingly used to call it the backstage area. It's wooden panels that were never glossy. It's Michelle and Cass on old stools with cheap cider. It's Denny alone. It's Denny's guitar, with John's handwriting on its side. It's an empty room that's not used to being empty. You know when rooms sound the most loud when there's supposed to be a hundred sounds and you know every one of them? You think you can hear it out of pure fate.
He can only play as many instruments as his hands can hold. But he plays them as well as ever. There's no tremble in his fingers. He can definitely hear Cass. He can almost see John. When he closes his eyes, he can believe they're through the door, in the bar. Hearing him play. Singing back to him.
California dreaming. On such a winter's day
Dvodentsivka/zholomiya/dzholomyha (дводенцівка, жоломія, джоломига) is a Western Ukrainian musical instrument, a double flute that can be played with two voices at the same time. Today it is mainly used in folk music of the Carpathian region
The Oh Hellos: life is beautiful !!
The Crane Wives: arent you tired of being nice? Dont you just want to go apeshit
Gwadaka (Logo Design): Logo for Guadeloupe community website.
Guadeloupe (/ɡwɑːdəˈluːp/; French pronunciation: [ɡwadəlup]; Antillean Creole: Gwadloup) also known as Gwada is an overseas region of France, consisting of a single overseas department, located in the Leeward Islands,
I find it hilarious when someone in the comments of an old revolutionary/protest song is like "beautiful song, we need to return to the good old days with traditional culture and values." They completely ignore the lyrics and historical context because they can't believe that some of their ancestors might actually have been pretty progressive in certain ways.
The parallels in Adrianne Lenker’s album Songs never fails to destroy me. For example,
“I don’t want to be the owner of your fantasy, so just want to be a part of your family” (anything)
“And your dearest fantasy, is to grow a baby in me. I could be a good mother, and I want to be your wife” (not a lot, just forever)
The first song, anything, is gentle, it’s intimate. It shows the quiet parts of Adrianne’s relationship, her longing to stay and belong with her lover. Throughout the whole song she speaks of the intimacy of relationships and how this is what she was craving. She wasn’t this version of herself that her lover fantasizes about, and she never really will be. She just wants to be a part of her family, to be her wife.
The second song, seems to take place during or after the breakup. Adrianne has gone past the soft, quiet grieving that we see in the other song. Instead, she is taken over by desperation. She misses Indigo and what they had. She is willing to do anything to get it back. She mentions again this fantasy of Indigo’s that we see in anything. Adrianne doesn’t necessarily want a family or to be a mother, but Indigo does and perhaps this is the only way to get her back. We see her offer up a bargain. Let us go back to what we had, and i’ll be this version you wanted. I could be a good mother. She doesn’t want to be, but she will because she wants to be Indigo’s wife.
There is something just so inately sad about the use of the word could in this instance, the depths of her grief and desperation.
Nighthaunt - Official Lyrics
by Levi Robinheart
[V1]: The trees make me whisper A spir’t of remorse The branches are careless and course The kings have all heralded A maim for my form The Cherrys’ll wait for the storm The people are pushin And cursin each other The love and indifference For dearest old mother The Sun puts me down With a wave of its breath I wish he would put me to death The vengeance of flowers The clock of the world The jigsawmill powers The tails getting curled It makes me feel passion But heavy with gears I wish I could say you’re my dear
[V2]: No rocks that will travel With wind made to mourn A voice becomes dead when they’re born A mutagen prosp’rous The hands-on relief A cure that they’ll curse in their sleep The sound of dear gunfire A panic is torn A feud between brainwire A side in his thorn The big fest is happenin But no one’s arrived The kid’s servin coffee inside A stairwell is breakin It creaks on the floor A hellwind is howlin Her thoughts get ignored The pangolin’s frownin A god’s smokin beer I wish that your harvest was near
[V3]: The forest got older The hills can’t explain There’s emptiness that falls with the rain The habits are circlin The train’s gone away There’s no one to see you today The mermaids are restless The fog’s swimmin north The spills come relentless A voice it comes forth And if your old waters Put off the same heat Condemn me for love in your seat You carried this travesty Guitars in your face I howl at your majesty A centaur’s in space And if you were cold By the warrior’s stand I wish you would play with my hands
[V4]: The Sun’s killing berries And shoes left to waste The setting’s lost all of its taste And if there is magma Awake in its hate Until it comes frozen, I’ll wait Cause now in this summit The tarot cards fold The businessmen plummet A moth turns to mold The bell’s on probation The dragon is stayed I’ll hate me for all that I’ve made I found your addiction It’s made with amends I’ll hold their afflictions If gravity bends I wish I could meet you And sell our mistakes I wish for this nighthaunt to break
I wish I could see you And kiss your green face but I’ll wait for the nighthaunt to break
This cover version of Jolene is one of my favorites.
Check out my latest AI experiment! A Stable Video Diffusion & Suno AI Mashup which showcases adorable cat clips enhanced with cutting-edge AI technology and set to captivating music generated by Suno AI. 🚀🐱🎬
https://soundcloud.com/user-622014795
https://soundcloud.com/joey-11151733
https://soundcloud.com/world-in-pocket
More music I do
// 20/01/2024//
My city (Montevideo) turned 300 years so we had a celebration with different stages around the center of the city and many famous (and not-so-famous) artists performed for free! It was a huge event, I think I've never seen so much people together, it was squares and squares of people. I had a lot of fun, I went with my bf and met my brother and a friend of him there but just for one rapper/trapper they like (Zeballos), then they went home and I stayed there until night when my favorite folklore duet performed.
After all that we got some food and Cucú the cat joined our dinner ^•w•^
so i’ve seen this around a lot and i always felt like the version i listened to just. didn’t have everything? sO! i edited together my three favourite versions of the tik tok sea shanty! enjoy!!
(listen with headphones if possible!)
(yes i know the ending is bad oKaY-)
im putting together a couple of scottish folk mixes bc that’s what i do and im honestly curious if anyone in my country has ever been unequivocally happy about anything ever
Dedicated to the Sacred Cedars of the 1000 Paths Forest, the Wind, the Rain, the Seas, the Sun, the Moon, All Life, and the Stars. "To all things we give a special dedication. Fix my body, my soul, and my spirit! I give thanks for this day, this life, this world! And for all things! Don’t chop our world trees to build your church for in those trees is more of worth than all those rice paper sheets and your hollow voices in hallowed seats. I dwell neath the sky on the ground from whence I hear the sound Creation’s echo, reverberates in the swaying of the branches, the croaking of the crow the symphony of the frogs the reveling of the leaves In Spirits midst on that fine fresh wind, Whom the Insider has ceased to know. Out, Out with the secrets, let it not dwell in false rhetoric, but in the ineffable, inexpressible workings of this wide world, beyond the voices of old bones gone to rest."
rebellion is your obligation to the next 7 generations
O' the summer time is gone.
And the trees are brown and cryin'.
And I can't hold on to time.
But for you, my dear, I'm tryin'.
May 17 - National Fiddlers Day - la journée nationale des violoneux
This year, I’m earnestly starting up my fiddle learning as part of my spiritual practice. For many Acadian and French Canadian families, having a violoneux (fiddler) among us was a guaranteed entertainer!
My great great grandfather Dominique Malaison, out of thirteen siblings, was the only one to pick up a musical talent! He would keep his fiddle attached to an old red ribbon, and mounted it on the staircase wall. He would play the Hangman’s Reel and the Devil’s reel to my then young great uncle Leo’s requests. Dominique’s wife Anasthasie Arsenault would be the expert podorhythmic and would turlutte the songs with great breath control! They passed on this gift to my great grandmother Angèle Malaison. She would play tunes and my mother would dance to them. I also have vague memories of dancing to her playing as well when I was really young.
Others in my family also had the penchant for the fiddle. My great great grandfather Joseph Gilbert would learn his tunes with recorded vinyls, and practice late into the night. Their house was really small and no soundproofing! His daughter, my great grandmother Florida Gilbert, would be sleeping in her room and tell him “you don’t have that part yet!” And he’d go to her bedroom door and ask her “well then sing it for me!”
My mother took violin lessons, but never really stuck with it. Although, she does keep Angèle’s fiddle displayed on the mantle in her house. I’ll inherit it one day.
Learning fiddle for me is a struggle, it being a really hard instrument to learn anyway. As I’m attempting to understand how to read music and develop my musical ear, I remind myself of those who came before me, and that I am carrying on for them. I want to bring that same joie de vivre and dancing joy to my own house with this heritage, and participate in my musical culture in full swing! I try to light a candle every time I practice, to remember them and to wish me luck at the same time!
Dominique Malaison
My mom (little kid at the right), enjoying Angèle playing tunes while her son Raymond sits nearby.
Florida and Noël on their wedding day, with Joseph Gilbert on the right.
so like… tamlin
no, this isn’t me talking about how he was done so mfing dirty and i would defend him, BUT
He plays FIDDLE
not violin
like there’s a difference between a posh traditional ballroom music (no hate to violinists) and the inherent community that comes with folk music (the fiddle is a folk instrument) and like it’s not a big thing
but
tamlin was the son of a high lord he hated
he’d do the more ‘common’ instrument out of spite, out of defiance, out of something to separate himself from them and pull himself closer to the common people who he likely preferred being around
because folk music is something to dance to! It encourages community, it would be done at taverns and town squares, in festivals for people who wouldn’t hear ballroom music, much less attend fancy balls or soirées for violin music
and there’s something there
something something being taught a more common style of music by maybe a more common person (because folk is an incredibly oral and aural tradition, more passed down than written down) in defiance to a high lord and high society who gave him an instrument that they want used for ‘proper’ and fancy music
Reblogging my art with folk songs I feel are fitting part 3
18 (warning: suicidal thoughts)
Blow out the candles, darling.
You might make it to 18.
After all the nights crying
Through gritted teeth.
After the day you thought
That if you killed yourself
Their lives would be more pleasing.
Congratulations, darling.
You’re almost 18.
Reblogging my art with folk songs I feel are fitting part 2
after “The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller (warning: violence)
Heliotropic soul who smells of spring.
Sunshine hair with gold-leafed summer irises,
Bright, shining from alabaster flesh.
Chiseled hands over carved wood,
Sinew-plucked strings.
They would never draw blood.
Winter is a minimalist,
Warmed by our roseate love,
Thawed anew.
Reblogging my art with folk songs I feel are fitting part 1
Untitled (warning: violence against marginalized & minority populations)
Sitting on the ground reading Emily Dickinson
Just me, God, and the ants
One on my ankle, one on my shoe
I’m sure I’m getting eat up
Oh well
There are worse things that bite
https://www.instagram.com/p/CVsfjN_FuGf/
I wrote this song a year ago during one of the toughest & loneliest period of my life. I had a mental break down, I trashed my room & stomped on my computer. I was preparing to end my life that day. I painted my room with all the reasons why. As I sat on the floor amidst all the chaos I looked over to my guitar. & it hit me that I was going to die without ever learning to play guitar. I remembered how much i love so many of the beautiful songs this instrument created. That realization was enough to motivate me to keep on living because I knew at least one thing I loved was possible. I knew it was possible to experience something new. This is one of the very first songs I created right after this experience. I used it as a way to comfort myself & remind myself i'll be there for myself through it all. This song is dedicated to me & anyone who's ever felt the same or similarly. I was crying a bit before I recorded this so if my voice sounds kinda funny that's why but as long as the message is felt then that's all I care about. I love you all even the ones that hurt me
Listening to Suzanne by Leonard Cohen repeatedly and I am sick I am SICK, she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from china and the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbor.. unwell quaking astral projecting screaming into this void etc.