My history is really playing live - not writing or recording.
quote by Tom Jenkinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History of Now
The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.
The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.
Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.
We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.
The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.
The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.
poem by David SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I think we were probably playing live for about 12 months before we got a recording deal.
When it comes to the recording and writing, it's still mostly Mickey and I. But now there's this whole live entity that's a whole different thing, and it seems to be where we're gaining the most popularity.
I am touring in Europe. I am putting together a trio and a quartet. I am playing solo concerts with my symphonic sounds. I am very much engaged back to playing and recording and everything.
quote by Miroslav Vitous
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And for me the only way to live life is to grab the bull by the horns and call up recording studios and set dates to go in recording studios. To try and accomplish something.
quote by John Frusciante
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Was Made For Loving You
Back when I was dating Rich,
he gave me Kiss’s guitar pic.
Gene Simons handed it to him,
in the 1978 recording session.
“I Was Made For Loving You Baby”
the song they were recording at the time,
Gene was playing the bass and singing just fine.
Now if I google the price of this guitar pic,
It would be the price of ten times 9.
But I’m not selling I’m sorry to say,
maybe I will play my guitar with it someday.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Was Made For Loving You
Back when I was dating Rich,
he gave me Kiss’s guitar pic.
Gene Simons handed it to him,
in the 1978 recording session.
“I Was Made For Loving You Baby”
the song they were recording at the time,
Gene was playing the bass and singing just fine.
Now if I google the price of this guitar pic,
It would be the price of ten times 9.
But I’m not selling I’m sorry to say,
I will play my guitar with it someday.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear Friend
i always love to write, as early as
gradeschool when we were classmates
while you were playing and chasing and stumbling
i just sat on the grass of the playground under a tree and scribble anything
and read a lot about some stories with lots of pictures
and colors of fairies and kings and queens and butterflies and bees,
i do not stop writing, in fact, writing has become my life
that without words i may die an instant death
i dream that i have written novels and stories and lots of poems
i wake up with some ideas like some seeds that i want to sow
and grow in the field and see them become shrubs and trees and forests
and i keep on this life writing and writing and writing and writing
for writing's sake and i wish i may live longer so i may write
some more, some sequels of my love stories and suspense thrillers
and write finally all the poems that are inside my mind
hanging like ripe grapes and creeping like vines on my fence
as i am writing now as you always want to read me
until such time my friend that i will die, or end my life myself (who knows?)
(i will not talk about it now, it is something bizarre and makes me
shiver, but who knows, well you know, all are but possibilities and nothing
but possibilities in this vast wide world of realities and dreams)
there is something i must say somehow
there is something that i must have forgotten, i have not written about myself
i have always written about them, about you, about the world,
please do not refuse me, stop playing with your life,
gradeschool ended
a long time ago, i have one and ultimate request:
write the story of my life, because it is you who only knows about it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And So I'm Writing...
I'm hard-pressed for time,
yet I do have the heart
And so I'm writing
Know not what to pen down,
have a paper to write on
And so I'm writing
May be I'll write about 'you and me'
Or may be of 'us and them'
Feel like playing with words
And so I'm writing
May be that starving beggar's hungry looks
Or that homeless Child's beckoning eyes
Are making me scribble these lines to you
And so I'm writing
May be you'll find my words vague
Or you might decipher a meaning
Intend to leave you in the oblivion
And so I'm writing
Whatever might be the impression I create
Wish to see its reflection on your soul
And leave an imprint on your mind
And so I'm writing
May be you and I've become immune
To the pathos of mankind
Or may be there's still
A dropp of humanity flowing deep within us
Wish to arouse 'The Human Being' in you
And so I'm writing...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Battle Lines
We got more poetry than we bargained for:
Poetry as per the programme;
Poetry under the Plane trees;
Poetry conjuring other places,
Other times,
Other insights
Through other eyes.
Yes, all that and more
As the soft, stone façade
Glowed the warm jaune-crème
Of a quiet understanding
Borne of generations of learning,
And, en face,
Upstart acres of glass
Glowered back their pretensions
With an assurance
Only the arrogance of youth may afford.
Between these battle lines,
Oblivious to their meagre histories and vanities,
Nature was quietly busy
Writing her elegant, eternal poetry
Upon the wind
In fresh, green symphony,
Strolling and stroking its way
Through the forest on my forearms,
Stealing me away from listening,
To writing:
Recording the history of the briefest of moments
Perhaps no-one else noticed.
More than I bargained for too.
Stephanos, thank you.
poem by Tony Jolley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm always in that mode - whenever I have a little free time, I'm always recording songs, writing, whatever I gotta do. It's like my job is my vacation.
quote by Ludacris
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When you're recording, if you're not really clean in your playing, it sounds like a mess.
quote by Ritchie Blackmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Come Alive In Writing
I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -
I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-
I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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My relationship with Music Row has always been, from my end, optimistic and hopeful that there is more than one way to approach the writing, recording, and marketing of an album.
quote by Deana Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Each one of us had a little story to tell and each recording was based on that. Lou played all of the music but we both sort of kicked around some cords during the writing phase.
quote by Phil Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I was recording from '70 to '82, I always played piano and laid the tracks down. But I used to talk to the other musicians while the track was playing.
Lingering Legends
The course of human history.
A complicated tapestry.
Composed of interwoven strands.
The work of three blind sisters hands.
Each strand recording some event.
Almost as if by accident.
I have no doubt that they will be.
Still recorded accurately.
The strands are closely intertwined.
Which makes it difficult to find.
A single strand you can purse.
You hope in time will lead you to.
Some one you can identify
Which other sources verify.
Some one well know to history
No longer wrapped in mystery/
But now exposed to public view.
So we can prove their legend true.
It seems to me won't succeed.
Until the day we learn to read.
The never ending tapestry.
.The sisters weave industriously.
Which they have done since time began.
With total disregard for man.
We try and try without success.
Our efforts doomed to be fruitless.
The three blind sister can ensure.
Their secrets will remain secure.
Perhaps that's how its meant to
We have to face reality.
If we had been supposed to know
We'd have succeeded long ago
The sisters weave their tapestry.
Recording human history
But they make sure we can't unwind.
The strands deliberately entwined.
Monday,18 June 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There was never going to be a right time for a band that was still recording and had health in its environment, had made a very good record and was playing well.
quote by Peter Garrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My recording career has luckily run the gamut of recording environments.
quote by Matt Cameron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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