If I had a voice I would sing
Dangling feet from window frame
Will I ever ever reach the floor?
More, give me more, give me more
(Source: youtube.com)
electronic music is a baby.
she is young and hopeful and needs taking care of.
we cannot make our future from classical and traditional music, this is our beautiful past, and is what our grandfathers made for the people of their time. for their own survival.
what is the sound of Poland today?
Moscow?
Bulgaria?
Prague?
Italy?
Paris?
UK?
there are so many cities and countries next to each other, filled with real musicians making electronic music…
imagine if every city and every country had their own unique sound, and unique dance, and a scene that took care of each other.
and each scene, in each place, could swap club nights and vibes and live and work together.
yes, this all ready happens since years, i know.
so why is there only dubstep and techno and house and a lot of broke miserable people….?
artists longed and wished for the decline of power in the industry. artists longed and wished for cheap studios and technology.
well now its happened.
so what are we doing now?
we all need work, we all need music, we all love music, we must work together.
The Joy of Books (by crazedadman)
Reflections On Love (1966)
(Source: youtube.com)
We stopped the time for Jeremy Fraser
He died of the lance of silver
In the middle of the trees, oh, we taught him
How to freeze, freeze, freeze when it came to watson
Dragged from the woods and
Dumped in the middle of our old school yard
He was dragged from the woods and
Dumped in the middle of our old school yard…
(Source: youtube.com)
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, ‘All beauty must die’
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
(Source: youtube.com)
“Black is traditional”
Happy Birthday, Neil!
http://neil-gaiman.tumblr.com/
http://www.neilgaiman.com/
Neil Gaiman Explains All Hallow’s Read (by Neilhimself)
(Source: wiggliejigglie)
My boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
He doesn’t build ships, he has no use for sails
He doesn’t make tables, dresses or chairs
He can’t carve a whistle cause he just doesn’t care
My boy builds coffins for the rich and the poor
Kings and queens have all knocked on his door
Beggars and liars, gypsies and thieves
They all come to him ‘cause he’s so eager to please
My boy builds coffins he makes them all day
But it’s not just for work and it isn’t for play
He’s made one for himself
One for me too
One of these days he’ll make one for you,
for you, for you, for you
My boy builds coffins for better or worse
Some say its a blessing, some say its a curse
He fits them together in sunshine or rain
Each one is unique, no two are the same
My boy builds coffins and i think it’s a shame
That when each one’s been made, he can’t see it again
He crafts every one with love and with care
Then its thrown in the ground and it just isn’t fair
My boy builds coffins he makes them all day
But it’s not just for work and it isn’t for play
He’s made one for himself
One for me too
One of these days he’ll make one for you
