A journey through some of the music that inspires me and gets me through the day.
Our first stop is Emilie Autumn performing her piece "willow."
Classically trained violinist with a flair for the dramatic. After much argument over her appearance whilst performing with her teachers she stated
that neither the audience nor the original composer would be insulted by the clothing and appearance of the performer.
...and then one day she seemed to have gone completely insane, and I'm still along for the ride.
Nice. I never heard Emilie Autumn. She's definitely gifted. and a bit tweaked. I like it.
I don't know of too many cool female musicians , I know they're out there, but it seems harder to find any really good new music anymore.
Or maybe i'm just getting old....anyway here are some more very talented women I am compelled to listen to...
Holy smokes! Not at all what I expected. I had the speakers turned up pretty loud and a few notes in I turned up even louder! Beautiful piece of
music and great performance...I'm going to listen to both again now - thank you,
Let me introduce you to another singer I like that few have discovered, which is truly a shame.
The first song is sort of tongue in cheek, but some of her lyrics have some depth that has touched me. When someone asked me to describe her once I
said "acoustic punk rock" but apparently she's labeled as anti folk.
The next one is a better representation of some of her more inspired lyrics. This song contains one of her greatest lines " we are the people our
parents warned us about."
Sadly I can find no links on youtubve of some of her best songs. The great divide, anesthesia, mojave winters, all from her epiphany in brooklyn album
are quite amazing.
I have heard of Sigur Ros, definitely...and as for that Sucker Punch song... her voice sounds similar to Siouxsie Sioux from Siouxsie and the
Banshees! Nice!!! I like it ... kinda surprised from such a mainstream movie. what do you think of this?
yes! i remember this song, just watched this movie this past weekend, and although the movie was quite odd (i did like it, it was just not at all what
i expected), the soundtrack was pretty outstanding... it was almost like the movie was written to the soundtrack... and your other selections,
very nice! as well, your profile pic is quite ummm *cough* sexy *cough*
It's just a picture...but your strange reaction leads me to another song. This one is a fanvid made for the song Eleanor by The Gathering.
underneath the mask you've buried yourself into
i am tired of the gulping that you do
every day a new face
what if i unscrew
your own identity
wouldn't you guess there's nothing left of you?
the quicksand of life drags us
down into the circle
one day. we might not catch you
i feel sorry for what you try to do
breaking others down. to try and to pursue
your own selfish interests
i am starting to get sick of you
whatever happened ever since you left
you make yourself and me look like fools
Thought I might add some guys to the mix. First up is Henry Rollins. I like him, singing, just talking, he holds a stage well. There was a good spoken
word album he did called fast food for thought, with the band wartime, look for it if you can find it.\
Henry Rollins - Illumination
Next is a song about the Easter uprising. There's been a lot of covers of this song, this one is my favorite.
There are still songwriters among us. I give you loreena Mckennit, The Highwayman
he wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor
And the highwayman came riding,
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark innyard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by the moonlight,
Watch for me by the moonlight,
I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way.
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.
He did not come at the dawning; he did not come at noon,
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching,
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at the casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement,
The road that he would ride.
They had tied her up to attention, with many a s'n-word'ing jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"now keep good watch!" And they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say
"Look for me by the moonlight
Watch for me by the moonlight
I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way!"
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness and the hours crawled by like years!
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it!
The trigger at least was hers!
Tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs were ringing clear
Tlot-tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
The red-coats looked to their priming!
She stood up straight and still!
Tlot in the frosty silence! Tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment! She drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death.
He turned; he spurred to the west; he did not know she stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it; his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were the spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
Still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon, tossed upon the cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding,
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
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