Song Composition Quotes

Sometimes looking at Frankie is like seeing Matt through a glass of water - a distorted composition of him with all the right parts, but mixed up and i the wrong order. As I watch her sing his old song, I can't shake the feeling that he just stopped by to say hello.

[On Chopin's Preludes:] "His genius was filled with the mysterious sounds of nature, but transformed into sublime equivalents in musical thought, and not through slavish imitation of the actual external sounds. His composition of that night was surely filled with raindrops, resounding clearly on the tiles of the Charterhouse, but it had been transformed in his imagination and in his song into tears falling upon his heart from the sky. ... The gift of Chopin is [the expression of] the deepest and fullest feelings and emotions that have ever existed. He made a single instrument speak a language of infinity. He could often sum up, in ten lines that a child could play, poems of a boundless exaltation, dramas of unequalled power.

Show me that you can divide the notes of a song; But first, show me that you can discern Between what can be divided And what cannot. —An anonymous musical composition inspired by a classical Sanskrit poem

I was always fishing for something on the radio. Just like trains and bells, it was part of the soundtrack of my life. I moved the dial up and down and Roy Orbison's voice came blasting out of the small speakers. His new song, "Running Scared," exploded into the room. Orbison, though, transcended all the genres - folk, country, rock and roll or just about anything. His stuff mixed all the styles and some that hadn't even been invented yet. He could sound mean and nasty on one line and then sing in a falsetto voice like Frankie Valli in the next. With Roy, you didn't know if you were listening to mariachi or opera. He kept you on your toes. With him, it was all about fat and blood. He sounded like he was singing from an Olympian mountaintop and he meant business. One of his previous songs, "Ooby Dooby" was deceptively simple, but Roy had progressed. He was now singing his compositions in three or four octaves that made you want to drive your car over a cliff. He sang like a professional criminal. Typically, he'd start out in some low, barely audible range, stay there a while and then astonishingly slip into histrionics. His voice could jar a corpse, always leave you muttring to yourself something like, "Man, I don't believe it." His songs had songs within songs. They shifted from major to minor key without any logic. Orbison was deadly serious - no pollywog and no fledgling juvenile. There wasn't anything else on the radio like him.

SONG. . . . BY TOAD. (Composed by himself.) OTHER COMPOSITIONS. BY TOAD will be sung in the course of the evening by the. . . COMPOSER.

He was rowed down from the north in a leather skiff manned by a crew of trolls. His fur cape was caked with candle wax, his brow stained blue by wine - though the latter was seldom noticed due to the fox mask he wore at-all times. A quill in his teeth, a solitary teardrop a-squirm in his palm, he was the young poet prince of Montreal, handsome, immaculate, searching for sturdier doors to nail his poignant verses on. In Manhattan, grit drifted into his ink bottle. In Vienna, his spice box exploded. On the Greek island of Hydra, Orpheus came to him at dawn astride a transparent donkey and restrung his cheap guitar. From that moment on, he shamelessly and willingly exposed himself to the contagion of music. To the secretly religious curiosity of the traveler was added the openly foolhardy dignity of the troubadour. By the time he returned to America, songs were working in him like bees in an attic. Connoisseurs developed cravings for his nocturnal honey, despite the fact that hearts were occasionally stung. Now, thirty years later, as society staggers towards the millennium - nailing and screeching at the while, like an orangutan with a steak knife in its side - Leonard Cohen, his vision, his gift, his perseverance, are finally getting their due. It may be because he speaks to this wounded zeitgeist with particular eloquence and accuracy, it may be merely cultural time-lag, another example of the slow-to-catch-on many opening their ears belatedly to what the few have been hearing all along. In any case, the sparkle curtain has shredded, the boogie-woogie gate has rocked loose from its hinges, and here sits L. Cohen at an altar in the garden, solemnly enjoying new-found popularity and expanded respect. From the beginning, his musical peers have recognized Cohen´s ability to establish succinct analogies among life´s realities, his talent for creating intimate relationships between the interior world of longing and language and the exterior world of trains and violins. Even those performers who have neither "covered" his compositions nor been overtly influenced by them have professed to admire their artfulness: the darkly delicious melodies - aural bouquets of gardenia and thistle - that bring to mind an electrified, de-Germanized Kurt Weill; the playfully (and therefore dangerously) mournful lyrics that can peel the apple of love and the peach of lust with a knife that cuts all the way to the mystery, a layer Cole Porter just could`t expose. It is their desire to honor L. Cohen, songwriter, that has prompted a delegation of our brightest artists to climb, one by one, joss sticks smoldering, the steep and salty staircase in the Tower of Song.

Our first questions about the value of a book, of a human being, of a musical composition are: Can they walk? Even more, can they dance?

Barely pausing between songs, he played American compositions like “St. Louis Blues” and “Tiger Rag.” He played “Parfum” from the gypsy legend Django Reinhardt. He

tried to reenliven mealtimes by hiring a quartette to sing “The Chewing Song,”† an original Kellogg composition,

And every time a song is done, it whispers, you can go now... you aren't needed anymore.

Something is conscious of us. It listens as it plays upon the instruments that we are. It takes delight in the cacophony, an orchestration so grand it is far beyond our contemplation. It is masterful, elegant, swift, and awesome. It is the Song of the Universe—and more. It is our Composer, and one who loves beyond conditions, beyond the beyond. If the law of ‘as above, so below’ holds true, then we too are composers. We too sing songs that breathe shape into reality. But are we listening? Are we paying attention to the compositions we create?

Show me that you can divide the notes of a song; But first, show me that you can discern Between what can be divided And what cannot. —An anonymous musical composition inspired by a classical Sanskrit poem Abhed

Sura-na Bheda Pramaana Sunaavo; Bheda, Abheda, Pratham kara Jaano. Show me that you can divide the notes of a song; But first, show me that you can discern Between what can be divided And what cannot. —An anonymous musical composition inspired by a classical Sanskrit poem

We live, after all, in the present: the present is inevitably the context for our reaction and response, and it matters. Yet one of art’s most compelling features is how it showcases the disjuncts between the time of composition, the time of dissemination, and the time of consideration—disjuncts that can summon us to humility and wonder. Such temporal amplitude understandably falls out of favor in politically polarized times, in which the pressure to make clear “which side you’re on” can be intense. New attentional technologies (aka the internet, social media) that feed on and foster speed, immediacy, reductiveness, reach, and negative affect (such as paranoia, anger, disgust, distress, fear, and humiliation) exacerbate this pressure.

Everywhere he looked he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most. “It’s me,” he muttered, crouching down between them. “Will you come with me?” They stood up at once, and together he, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as they climbed. Somewhere in the distance they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition: We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter’s the one, And Voldy’s gone moldy, so now let’s have fun! “Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn’t it?” said Ron, pushing open a door to let Harry and Hermione through.

5. The reading of the Scriptures with godly fear, the sound preaching, and conscionable hearing of the Word, in obedience unto God, with understanding, faith, and reverence; singing of psalms with grace in heart; as also the due administration and worthy receiving of the sacraments instituted by Christ, are all parts of the ordinary religious worship of God: besides religious oaths, vows solemn fastings, and thanksgivings upon special occasions, which are, in their several times and seasons, to be used in a holy and religious manner. Another element of true worship is the "signing of psalms with grace in the heart." It will be observed that the Confession does not acknowledge the legitimacy of the use of modern hymns in the worship of God, but rather only the psalms of the Old Testament. It is not generally realized today that Presbyterian (and many other Reformed) churches originally used only the inspired psalms, hymns and songs of the biblical Psalter in divine worship, but such is the case. The Westminster Assembly not only expressed the conviction that the psalms should be sung in divine worship, but implemented it by preparing a metrical version of the Psalter for use in the churches. This is not the place to attempt a consideration of this question. But we must record our conviction that the Confession is correct at this point. It is correct, we believe, because it has never been proved that God has commanded his Church to sing the uninspired compositions of men rather than or along with the inspired songs, hymns, and psalms of the Psalter in divine worship.

Sometimes guitar riffs get repeated over and over ("vamping," in the lingo of musicians), but generally there is a soloist proving variation that runs above that background, lest the song sound monotonous. Philip Glass's minimalist compositions (such as the soundtrack to 'Koyaanisqatsi') deviate from much of the classical music that preceded them, with much less obvious movement than, say, the Romantic-era compositions that his work seems to rebel against, yet his works, too, consist not only of extensive repetition but also of constant (though subtle) variation. Virtually every song you've ever heard consists of exactly that: themes that recur over and over, overlaid with variations.

I welcome the liberation of music from the prison of melody, rigid structure, and harmony. Why not? But I also listen to music that does adhere to those guidelines. Listening to the Music of the Spheres might be glorious, but I crave a concise song now and then, a narrative or a snapshot more than a whole universe. I can enjoy a movie or read a book in which nothing much happens, but I'm deeply conservative as well—if a song establishes itself within a pop genre, then I listen with certain expectations. I can become bored more easily by a pop song that doesn't play by its own rules than by a contemporary composition that is repetitive and static. I like a good story and I also like staring at the sea—do I have to choose between the two?

At one chew per second, the Fletcherizing of a single bite of shallot would take more than ten minutes. Supper conversation presented a challenge. “Horace Fletcher came for a quiet dinner, sufficiently chewed,” wrote the financier William Forbes in his journal from 1906. Woe befall the non-Fletcherizer forced to endure what historian Margaret Barnett called “the tense and awful silence which . . . accompanies their excruciating tortures of mastication.” Nutrition faddist John Harvey Kellogg, whose sanatorium briefly embraced Fletcherism,* tried to reenliven mealtimes by hiring a quartette to sing “The Chewing Song,”† an original Kellogg composition, while diners grimly toiled. I searched in vain for film footage, but Barnett was probably correct in assuming that “Fletcherites at table were not an attractive sight.” Franz Kafka’s father, she reports, “hid behind a newspaper at dinnertime to avoid watching the writer Fletcherize.

If one could prove from established and reliable histories that the events in Judith really happened, it would be a noble and fine book, and should properly be in the Bible. Yet it hardly squares with the historical accounts of the Holy Scriptures, especially Jeremiah and Ezra. For these show how Jerusalem and the whole country were destroyed, and were thereafter laboriously rebuilt during the time of the monarchy of the Persians who occupied the land. Against this the first chapter of Judith claims that King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon was the first one to set about conquering this territory; it creates the impression that these events took place before the captivity of the Jews, and before the rise of the Persian monarchy. Philo, on the contrary, says that they happened after the release and return of the Jews from Babylon under King Ahasuerus, at which time the Jews had rebuilt neither the temple nor Jerusalem, and had no government. Thus as to both time and name, error and doubt are still present, so that I cannot reconcile [the accounts] at all. Such an interpretation strikes my fancy, and I think that the poet deliberately and painstakingly inserted the errors of time and name in order to remind the reader that the book should be taken and understood as that kind of a sacred, religious, composition. It may even be that in those days they dramatized literature like this, Just as among us the Passion and other sacred stories are performed. In a common presentation or play they conceivably wanted to teach their people and youth to trust God, to be righteous, and to hope in God for all help and comfort, in every need, against all enemies, etc. Therefore this is a fine, good, holy, useful book, well worth reading by us Christians. For the words spoken by the persons in it should be understood as though they were uttered in the Holy Spirit by a spiritual, holy poet or prophet who, in presenting such persons in his play, preaches to us through them. Next after Judith, therefore, like a song following a play, belongs the Wisdom of Philo, a work which denounces tyrants and praises the help which God bestows on his people. The song [that follows] may well be called an illustration of this book [of Judith].

If one could prove from established and reliable histories that the events in Judith really happened, it would be a noble and fine book, and should properly be in the Bible. Yet it hardly squares with the historical accounts of the Holy Scriptures, especially Jeremiah and Ezra. For these show how Jerusalem and the whole country were destroyed, and were thereafter laboriously rebuilt during the time of the monarchy of the Persians who occupied the land. Against this the first chapter of Judith claims that King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon was the first one to set about conquering this territory; it creates the impression that these events took place before the captivity of the Jews, and before the rise of the Persian monarchy. Philo, on the contrary, says that they happened after the release and return of the Jews from Babylon under King Ahasuerus, at which time the Jews had rebuilt neither the temple nor Jerusalem, and had no government. Thus as to both time and name, error and doubt are still present, so that I cannot reconcile [the accounts] at all. Such an interpretation strikes my fancy, and I think that the poet deliberately and painstakingly inserted the errors of time and name in order to remind the reader that the book should be taken and understood as that kind of a sacred, religious, composition. It may even be that in those days they dramatized literature like this, Just as among us the Passion and other sacred stories are performed. In a common presentation or play they conceivably wanted to teach their people and youth to trust God, to be righteous, and to hope in God for all help and comfort, in every need, against all enemies, etc. Therefore this is a fine, good, holy, useful book, well worth reading by us Christians. For the words spoken by the persons in it should be understood as though they were uttered in the Holy Spirit by a spiritual, holy poet or prophet who, in presenting such persons in his play, preaches to us through them. Next after Judith, therefore, like a song following a play, belongs the Wisdom of Philo, a work which denounces tyrants and praises the help which God bestows on his people. The song [that follows] may well be called an illustration of this book [of Judith].

Christopher Cerf has been composing songs for Sesame Street for twenty-five years. His large Manhattan townhouse is full of Sesame Street memorabilia – photographs of Christopher with his arm around Big Bird, etc. ‘Well, it’s certainly not what I expected when I wrote them,’ Christopher said. ‘I have to admit, my first reaction was, “Oh my gosh, is my music really that terrible?” ’ I laughed. ‘I once wrote a song for Bert and Ernie called “Put Down The Ducky”,’ he said, ‘which might be useful for interrogating members of the Ba’ath Party.’ ‘That’s very good,’ I said. ‘This interview,’ Christopher said, ‘has been brought to you by the letters W, M and D.’ ‘That’s very good,’ I said. We both laughed. I paused. ‘And do you think that the Iraqi prisoners, as well as giving away vital information, are learning new letters and numbers?’ I said. ‘Well, wouldn’t that be an incredible double win?’ said Christopher. Christopher took me upstairs to his studio to play me one of his Sesame Street compositions, called ‘Ya! Ya! Das Is a Mountain!’ ‘The way we do Sesame Street,’ he explained, ‘is that we have educational researchers who test whether these songs are working, whether the kids are learning. And one year they asked me to write a song to explain what a mountain is, and I wrote a silly yodelling song about what a mountain was.’ Christopher sang me a little of the song: Oompah-pah! Oompah-pah! Ya! Ya! Das is a mountain! Part of zee ground zat sticks way up high! ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘forty per cent of the kids had known what a mountain was before they heard the song, and after they heard the song, only about twenty-six per cent knew what a mountain was. That’s all they needed. You don’t know what a mountain is now, right? It’s gone! So I figure if I have the power to suck information out of people’s brains by writing these songs, maybe that’s something that could be useful to the CIA for brainwashing techniques.’ Just then, Christopher’s phone rang. It was a lawyer from his music publishers, BMI. I listened into Christopher’s side of the conversation: ‘Oh really?’ he said. ‘I see . . . Well, theoretically they have to log that and I should be getting a few cents for every prisoner, right? Okay. Bye, bye . . .’ ‘What was that about?’ I asked Christopher. ‘Whether I’m due some money for the performance royalties,’ he explained. ‘Why not? It’s an American thing to do. If I have the knack of writing songs that can drive people crazy sooner and more effectively than others, why shouldn’t I profit from that?’ This is why, later that day, Christopher asked Danny Epstein – who has been the music supervisor of Sesame Street since the very first programme was broadcast in July 1969 – to come to his house. It would be Danny’s responsibility to collect the royalties from the military if they proved negligent in filing a music-cue sheet.

When you are sad, celebrate, and you are giving a new composition to sadness. You are bringing something to sadness which will transform it. You are bringing celebration to it. Angry? -- have a beautiful dance. In the beginning it will be angry. You will start dancing and the dance will be angry, aggressive, violent. By and by, it will become softer and softer and softer, when suddenly, you will have forgotten anger. The energy has changed into dancing. But when you are angry, you can't think of dancing. When you are sad, you can't think of singing. Why not make your sadness a song? Sing, play on your flute. In the beginning the notes will be sad, but nothing is wrong with a sad note. Have you heard, in the afternoon sometimes, when everything is hot, burning hot, fire all around, and suddenly from a mango grove you can hear a cuckoo start singing? In the beginning, the note is sad. She is calling her lover, her beloved, on a hot afternoon. Everything is fiery all around, and she is hankering for love. A very sad note, but beautiful. By and by, the sad note changes into a happy note. The lover starts responding from another grove. Now it is no more a hot afternoon; everything is cooling down in the heart. Now the note is different. When the lover responds, everything has changed. It is an alchemical change. You are sad? -- start singing, praying, dancing. Whatsoever you can do, do, and by and by, the baser metal is changed into a higher metal -- gold. Once you know the key, your life will never be the same again. You can unlock any door. And this is the master key: to celebrate everything. If you are sad, then I say celebrate, dance, sing. What are you to lose? At the most, sadness will be lost, nothing else. But you think it is impossible. And the very idea that it is impossible will not allow you to give it a try. And I say it is one of the most easy things in the world, because energy is neutral. The same energy becomes sadness; the same energy becomes anger; the same energy becomes sexuality; the same energy becomes com passion; the same energy becomes meditation. Energy is one. You don't have many types of energies. You don't have many separate pockets of energy where this energy is labelled 'sadness' and this energy is labelled 'happiness'. Energies are not pigeon-holed, they are not separated. There exists no watertight compartment in you. You are simply one. This one energy becomes sadness, this one energy becomes anger. It is up to you. One has to learn the secret, the art of how to transform energies. You simply give a direction and the same energy starts moving. And when there is a possibility of transforming anger into bliss, greed into compassion, jealousy into love... you don't know what you are losing. You don't know what you are missing. You are missing the whole point of being here in this universe. Give it a try.

By then I’d played with a couple of college bands, doing clumsy covers ofrock staples. There were other bands that would produce note-perfect imitationsof songs by Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd and drive audiences wild. If a bandcould play something exactly as it was on tape, the consensus was that they mustbe good. But after a period of proving themselves this way, most bands became alittle more ambitious, and a day would come when they’d go up on stage duringa college festival and introduce a song with the dreaded words, ‘This is anoriginal composition.’ Almost always, these originals were listless pastiches ofthe covers the band played, the lyrics apparently not about anything at all. Thesewere skilled musicians, but their chosen form seemed to preclude any realengagement with their own lives or the lives of their audience. This was mostevident in the Death Metal bands, where you might have a good Hindu boygrowling menacingly about his affinity for Satan. This was a cargo-cult, amimicking of someone else’s rebellion.

But he wasn’t procrastinating because he didn’t want to work on the friar’s painting. No. A masterpiece did not pop immediately to mind. He had to knead the problems like dough: how could the Virgin’s face fulfill classical expectations of beauty, yet surprise the viewer with the unexpected; how could each of the figures maintain their separate identities, yet intertwine into a single whole; how could he transform a few scratches of lines on paper into a living, breathing, complex organism? Creating new life took time. Now that his first year was almost up, Leonardo needed to convince the friars to let him stay. He had barely made any progress on human flight. Relocating now would interrupt his experiments. He had to prove that he was not only working on the altarpiece, but that a painting by him would be worth the wait. So, for the last two weeks, he had been displaying his design to the public, and now he had invited the friars up to witness the spectacle. As the song came to an end, Leonardo stepped onto a raised platform next to a large panel covered in a piece of black velvet. He raised his hand with a flourish, and Salaì yanked off the cloth. His cartoon, the life-sized preparatory drawing for the altarpiece, was displayed on a gilded pedestal. Candlelight illuminated the charcoal and chalk sketch on thin, tinted paper. The picture was of St. Anne, the Virgin Mary, John the Baptist, and baby Jesus, all interconnected in a surging, pyramidal composition. The four figures were vibrant, their faces the ideal of classical beauty. He’d spent months dreaming up that image before putting it down on paper, so when he’d finally started sketching, the lines seemed to appear in a flash. Like his performance that night, it was all part of his show. Let the people think the design had arrived complete and perfect, as if sent by God himself.

The performing musician was now expected to write and create for two very different spaces: the live venue, and the device that could play a recording or receive a transmission. Socially and acoustically, these spaces were worlds apart. But the compositions were expected to be the same! An audience who heard and loved a song on the radio naturally wanted to hear that same song at the club or the concert hall. These two demands seem unfair to me. The performing skills, not to mention the writing needs, the instrumentation, and the acoustic properties for each venue are completely different.

A coaching session can be compared to the creative process of freestyle rap. Neuroscientists at the National Institute on Deafness and Other Communication Disorders scanned the brains of twelve professional rappers with an fMRI (functional magnetic resonance imaging) machine. The scientists discovered that although the brain’s executive functions were active at the start and end of a song, during freestyle, the parts of the brain responsible for self-monitoring, critiquing, and editing were deactivated. In this context, the researchers explained that the rappers were “freed from the conventional constraints of supervisory attention and executive control,” so sudden insights could easily emerge.1 In other words, the rappers used the executive functions of their cognitive brains as they started rapping to deliberately set the intention of the composition up front. Once they had a sense of where they were going, they switched off their inner critic and analyzer. This allowed for more activity in the inner brain, where the eruption of new ideas—creativity—takes place. As they moved to closing out the song, their cognitive brains came back online to provide a consciously designed ending to the composition.

Buddho A mantra, associated with the Mahayana or Vajrayana Buddhism and a significant part of the history of Theravada. Repeating the name of Buddha or other Pali phrases is known to help the individual cultivate loving kindness. ‘Buddho’ comes to mean His title, not His rank. You call upon the holy teacher to offer you peace, harmony between yourself and the universe, harmony between the sensual and the spiritual world, by repeating the mantra. Until you continue, sit comfortably on the ground and take a few deep breaths. Then breathe in, say a long' bud-,' breathe out, hold'-dho.' At the conclusion of your practice, the mantra will give you clarity and brightness. • Lumen de Lumine Lumen De Lumine is luminous song. It helps you to feel open towards the world. The person will be engulfed in light. When darkness overpowers your life, Lumen De Lumine removes your aura and fills you with glow and light. You'll be more relaxed and uplifted. This is the ideal balance of power and harmony. The mantra will give you the faith that you're free from negative energies. Just like the light, you'll feel strong, untouchable, and invincible. Anyone can touch Lumen De Lumine. You don't have to close yourself with this chant in mind. Think of your loved one bringing positive energy and feelings to them. • Sat, Chit, Ananda Often known as Satchitananda, a Sanskrit composite word composed of the three verbs' sat,'' cit' and' ananda.' Sat means ' life, being present, being alive, living, being real, being good, being right, being normal, intelligent, being truthful.' Chit means' see, feel, perceive, understand, accept, think about something, shape a thought, be conscious, remember, consider' Ananda means ‘joy, love, satisfaction, enjoyment, happiness, pure elation’.

Guitarist John Starling, mandolinist John Duffey, Dobroist Mike Auldridge, banjo picker Ben Eldridge, and bass man Tom Gray began The Seldom Scene during November, 1971. From the start, the group featured bluegrass standards, original compositions, and pop and rock songs given a bluegrass treatment.

Henry’s poems were never fresh new compositions but rather lines added to existent poems and songs.

For Filipinos, revolution was not just a crash course in warfare, it was a school of learning. The forms of writing and composition corresponded to the exigencies of the time: proclamations, manifestoes, improvisatory theater, verses, and songs. The literature produced was not just war propaganda but texts that aimed to constitute a nation.

In the symphony of life, don't measure your melody against another's tune. You're not a note in someone else's composition; you're the poetic refrain, uniquely crafted and deserving of your own song".

I was borderline obsessed in my youth, so much so that part of my “seeing” music is seeing individual parts of songs as blocks of LEGOs, a playful form of synesthesia that still to this day helps me memorize arrangements and compositions. As

The Composition of Death Upon Your Breath" About the Song: The Composition of Death Upon Your Breath delves into the dark and haunting theme of a lover poisoned by a sinister concoction found in the medieval Grand Grimoire. The song narrates the tragic tale of love tainted by the cruel hand of death, where a forbidden potion is meticulously prepared with arcane ingredients. The song's lyrics evoke a gothic atmosphere, intertwining elements of medieval alchemy and romantic tragedy. The potion's ingredients—Red Copper, Nitric Acid, Verdigris, Arsenic, Oak Bark, Rose Water, and Black Soot—are transformed into metaphors for the slow, inevitable demise of the lover. This deadly recipe becomes a symbol of both the destructive power and the twisted beauty of forbidden love. The music captures the essence of gothic black metal with its somber melodies, eerie harmonies, and intense, brooding instrumentals. Each note and lyric serve to illustrate the dark journey of love poisoned by betrayal and malice. The song's atmosphere is thick with melancholy and dread, inviting listeners into a world where passion and death intertwine in a tragic dance. Copyright Notice: The Composition of Death Upon Your Breath © 2024 Umbrae Sortilegium. All rights reserved. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of this song or its lyrics is prohibited. The Composition of Death Upon Your Breath. (Verse 1) In an ancient tome of shadowed lore, A secret poison to settle the score, A lover’s whisper, a deadly art, The composition to tear us apart. (Pre-Chorus) Red copper gleaming, nitric acid's burn, Verdigris and arsenic, from which there’s no return, Oak bark and rose water, a fatal serenade, Black soot to bind it, in darkness, it’s made. (Chorus) The composition of death upon your breath, A kiss that leads to the silent depths, In your arms, I fall to eternal rest, Poisoned by the love that you professed. (Verse 2) A new, glazed pot, the spell's design, A potion brewed, in shadows confined, Your lips, a chalice of cold despair, In each embrace, a whispered prayer. (Pre-Chorus) Red copper gleaming, nitric acid's burn, Verdigris and arsenic, from which there’s no return, Oak bark and rose water, a fatal serenade, Black soot to bind it, in darkness, it’s made. (Chorus) The composition of death upon your breath, A kiss that leads to the silent depths, In your arms, I fall to eternal rest, Poisoned by the love that you professed. (Bridge) In your gaze, the twilight's fall, A lover's kiss, the end of all, The Grand Grimoire, its secrets told, In every kiss, the poison’s cold. (Breakdown) A potion brewed from darkest sin, Your breath the gateway, let death begin, A recipe of doom, our fates entwined, In your arms, I lose my mind. (Chorus) The composition of death upon your breath, A kiss that leads to the silent depths, In your arms, I fall to eternal rest, Poisoned by the love that you professed. (Outro) The final breath, a lover's sigh, In your arms, I’m doomed to die, The composition, a lover’s theft, Death upon your breath, my final bequest. Lyrics and ALL Vocals yours truly. Lead Guitar & Symphonics Raz Wolfgang Drums Alexander Novichkov Bass Auron Nightshade Guitarist Kael Thornfield

Lionel Richie is a singer of great repute. His love songs are balms that soothe an ailing heart, caressing it back to life with therapeutic compositions they carry along. His music is soft, warm, and, like an abluent, cleanses whatever smut may have stained the tender frame of a plagued mind. His most important song, SELA, contains a fother of love the whole world should be proud to bear. I listen to it, drumming hard on the skin of selective ballyhoo. ~ Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Southern Literary Messenger, that old Village denizen Edgar Allan Poe had made a different kind of prophetic guess. As an attempt pre-emptively to render redundant most of the nonsense that would be written about Dylan and poetry, it has not been bettered. There are few cases in which mere popularity should be considered a proper test of merit; but the case of song-writing is, I think, one of the few. In speaking of song-writing, I mean, of course, the composition of brief poems with an eye to their adaptation for music in the vulgar sense. In this ultimate destination of the song proper, lies its essence — its genius. It is the strict reference to music — it is the dependence upon modulated expression — which gives to this branch of letters a character altogether unique, and separates it, in great measure and in a manner not sufficiently considered, from ordinary literature; rendering it independent of merely ordinary proprieties; allowing it, and in fact demanding for it, a wide latitude of Law; absolutely insisting upon a certain wild license and indefinitiveness — an indefinitiveness recognized by every musician who is not a mere fiddler, as an important point in the philosophy of his science — as the soul, indeed, of the sensations derivable from its practice — sensations which bewilder while they enthral — and which would not so enthral if they did not so bewilder.

There is no need to sing as the song (both lyrics and composition) would already be known to the relevant agency. So my prediction is that Pakistan will never turn over anyone to India, and the US - looking at the larger picture, will not put too much pressure either. This thing will slowly just go away, till of course Bharat Mata is embarrassed again" - David Coleman Headley, 2008 on the 2008 Mumbai attacks

Somewhere in the distance they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition: We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter’s the one, And Voldy’s gone moldy, so now let’s have fun!

Ehrlich does not believe that the Israelites were ever slaves in Egypt. He feels that he could support his view with: (1) None of the prophets, except Micah 6:5, mention the enslavement. (2) Micah 6:5 has a different version than the Five Books of Moses. It states that God sent Moses, Aaron, and Miriam to redeem the Israelites. The Five Books state that only Moses was sent, Aaron was only an assistant to Moses, and Miriam had no role in the redemption other than gathering the women to sing praises that the Israelites were saved at the Red Sea. (3) Scholars say that the song in Deuteronomy 32 is a very old composition.

Twentieth-century music has brought new complexity into rhythms, studio production, instrumentation, and a variety of other features that were uniform, less varied, or nonexistent in previous music. Modern compositions, even in narrow musicological terms, do not necessarily provide less depth than their predecessors. The songs of Jerome Kern, Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, or the Beatles are arguably no less compositionally complex (and perhaps more complex) than the lieder of Schubert. Schubert wrote about 700 songs, most of which no one ever listens to or analyzes. Many of these songs are technically and compositionally undistinguished, and tend to be formulaic in their melodic treatment. Are "Bill," "Take the A Train," "Crepuscule with Nellie," and "A Day in the Life" really inferior or lesser products?

Hollywood was called Tinseltown for a reason and I was caught up in its glitter. My friend Ken seemed to know everyone and once took me to the NBC Studios in Burbank, where he introduced me to Steve Allen. “Steverino,” as he was known by friends, must have thought that I wanted to get into show business and promised that if I applied myself, I would go places. I hadn’t really given show business much thought, but it sounded good to me. However, I’m glad that I didn’t count on his promise of becoming a star, because that was the end of it. I never saw Steve Allen again, other than on television, and I guess that’s just the way it was in Hollywood. Later Steve Allen starred in NBC’s The Tonight Show, which in more recent times has been hosted by Jack Paar, Johnny Carson, Jay Leno and now by Jimmy Fallon. Steve Allen had a rider in his contract that whenever he was introduced as a guest, the introduction would include: “And now our next guest is world-renowned recording artist, actor, producer, playwright, best-selling author, composer of thousands of songs, Emmy winning comic genius and entertainer – Steve Allen.” He was a funny guy and he would crack me up, but more than that, he would frequently crack himself up. Steve was loved or hated by people. It was said that he was enormously talented, and if you didn’t believe that, just ask him. Jack Paar, who followed Steve on The Tonight Show, once said, “Steve Allen has claimed to have written over 1,000 songs; name one???” The truth is that he did write a huge number of songs, including the 1963 Grammy award-winning composition, The Gravy Waltz. He wrote about 50 books, one of which is Steve Allen’s Private Joke File, published in 2000, just prior to his death in that same year. He also has two stars on the “Hollywood Walk of Fame,” one for radio and one for TV. Say what you want…. He cracked up at least two people with his humor, himself and me!

The Horned Master governs the generative powers of the kingdom of the beasts, the raw forces of life, death and renewal which sustains the natural world.” Nigel A Jackson. The Call of the Horned Piper: 38 The Art and Craft of the Witches is found at the crossroad, where this world and the other side meets and all possibility become reality. This simple fact is often forgotten as one rushes to the Sabbath or occupies oneself with formalities of ritual. The cross marks the four quarters, the four elements, the path of Sun, Moon and Stars. The cross was fused or confused with the Greek staurus, meaning ‘rod’, ‘rood’ or ‘pole’. Various forms of phallic worship are simply, veneration for the cosmic point of possibility and becoming. It is at the crossroads we will gain all or lose all and it is natural that it is at the crossroads we gain perspective. The crossroad is a place of choice, the spirit-denizens of the crossroads are said to be tricky and unreliable and it is of course where we find the Devil. One of the most famous legends of recent times concerns the blues-man Robert Johnson (1911– 1938). He claimed that, one night, just before midnight he had gone to the crossroads. He took out his guitar and played, whereupon a big black guy appeared, tuned his guitar, played a song backwards and handed it back.2 This incident altered Johnson’s playing and his finest and most everlasting compositions were the fruit of the few years of life left to him. This legend tells us how he needed to bury himself at the crossroads, offering himself to the powers dwelling there. Business done with the Devil is said to give him the upper hand. The ill omens and malefica associated with such deals is present in Johnson’s story. He got fame and women, but he died less than three years later before he reached thirty. His body was found poisoned at a crossroads, the murderer’s identity a mystery. Around the Mississippi no less than three tombs carry the name of Robert Leroy Johnson. The image of the Devil remains one of threat, blessing, beauty and opportunity. Where we find the Devil we find danger, unpredictability and chaos. If he offers a deal we know we are in for a complicated bargain. The Devil says that change is good, that we need movement in order to progress. His world is about cunning and ordeal entwined like the serpents of past and future on the pole of ascent. It is to the crossroads we go to make decisions. It is at the crossroads we set the course for the journey. It is at the crossroads we confront ourselves and realize our

Trained as a classical pianist, she was often called a jazz singer, but it was a label she deeply resented, seeing in it only a racial classification. She grudgingly accepted the popular nickname “the High Priestess of Soul” but gave it little significance. If anything, she claimed, she was a folk singer, and her dazzling, unpredictable repertoire—Israeli folk tunes, compositions by Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill, songs by the Bee Gees and Leonard Cohen and George Harrison, traditional ballads, jazz standards, spirituals, children’s songs—is perhaps unmatched in its range.

The Copyright Act of 1909 set the term for copyright of a musical composition to twenty-eight years, renewable for an additional twenty-eight, and for the first time included under copyright “public performance for profit.” That is, anyone playing or singing a copyrighted song had to pay for the right to do so. “Had to” but often didn’t: many bandleaders—and the restaurants and nightclubs that employed them—resisted paying anything to copyright holders, sometimes offering the justification that public performances stimulated sheet music sales.

pitch axis theory, which I learned in high school from my music teacher Bill Westcott. It is a compositional technique that was actually developed at the turn of the last century, so this is something that had been around for a long time. I remember Bill saying, "I'm going to teach you this very cool compositional technique," and he sat me down at the piano, and he went, "Watch this: I'll hold this C bass note, and then I play these chords, and each chord will put me in a different key, but it will sound like C 'something' to you . . ." I was fascinated by it, because I thought, "That is the sound I'm hearing in my head." To me it sounded very "rock," because rock songs don't travel around in too many keys, and it was the antithesis of the modern pop music that had been around for fifty years. It was the total opposite of most commercial jazz, but not all jazz, as I learned when I started really listening closely to modern jazz. I realized, "Wow, John Coltrane is using pitch axis theory. Not only is he doing that, but he’s going beyond it with his 'sheets of sound' approach," where in addition to building modes in different keys off of one bass note, he was building modes off of notes outside the key structure as well. He had taken it a step further. But that’s not what I was looking for, except for in a song like "The Enigmatic," which has that sort of complete atonal-meetspsycho melodic approach. I was more interested in using the pitch axis where you really could identify with one key bass note, in a rock and R&B sort of fashion. Then all the chords that you put on top would basically put you in different keys. So on Not of This Earth, you have these pounding E eighth notes on the bass, and your audience says, "Okay, we're in the key of E." But the chords on top are saying, "E Lydian, E Minor, E Lydian, E Mixolydian in cyclical form." And I thought, "Well, this gives me great melodic opportunities, I'm not stuck with just the seven notes of one key. I've got seven notes for every different key that I apply on top of this bass note." And I just love that sound, so I applied it to quite a lot of my music.

Poetry and Genre The hallmark of rhetoric in ancient Near Eastern literature is repetition; in poetry, this takes the form of what scholars call “parallelism.” Frequently, the first line of a verse is echoed in some way by the second line. The second line might repeat the substance of the first line with slightly different emphasis, or perhaps the second line amplifies the first line in some fashion, such as drawing a logical conclusion, illustrating or intensifying the thought. At times the point of the first line is reinforced by a contrast in the second line. Occasionally, more than two lines are parallel. Each of these features, frequently observed in Biblical psalms, is represented in songs from Egypt, Mesopotamia and Ugarit. Unlike English poetry, which often depends on rhyme for its effect, these ancient cultures attained impact on listeners and readers with creative repetition. Psalms come in several standard subgenres, each with standard formal elements. Praise psalms can be either individual or corporate. Over a third of the psalms in the Psalter are praise psalms. Corporate psalms typically begin with an imperative call to praise (e.g., “Shout for joy to the LORD” [Ps 100:1]) and describe all the good things the Lord has done. Individual praise often begins with a proclamation of intent to praise (e.g., “I will praise you, LORD” [Ps 138:1]) and declare what God has done in a particular situation in the psalmist’s life. Mesopotamian and Egyptian hymns generally focus on descriptive praise, often moving from praise to petition. Examples of the proclamation format can be seen in the Mesopotamian wisdom composition, Ludlul bel nemeqi. The title is the first line of the piece, which is translated “I will praise the lord of wisdom.” As in the individual praise psalms, this Mesopotamian worshiper of Marduk reports about a problem that he had and reports how his god brought him deliverance. Lament psalms may be personal statements of despair (e.g., Ps 22:1–21, dirges following the death of an important person (cf. David’s elegy for Saul in 2Sa 1:17–27) or communal cries in times of crisis (e.g., Ps 137). The most famous lament form from ancient Mesopotamia is the “Lament Over the Destruction of Ur,” which commemorates the capture of the city in 2004 BC by the Elamite king Kindattu. For more information on this latter category, see the article “Neo-Sumerian Laments.” In the book of Psalms, more than a third of the psalms are laments, mostly by an individual. The most common complaints concern sickness and oppression by enemies. The lament literature of Mesopotamia is comprised of a number of different subgenres described by various technical terms. Some of these subgenres overlap with Biblical categories, but most of the Mesopotamian pieces are associated with incantations (magical rites being performed to try to rid the person of the problem). Nevertheless, the petitions that accompany lament in the Bible are very similar to those found in prayers from the ancient Near East. They include requests for guidance, protection, favor, attention from the deity, deliverance from crisis, intervention, reconciliation, healing and long life. Prayers to deities preserved

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A WILD storm of controversy once raged, when Macpherson put forth a work purporting to be a collection of old Gaelic songs, under the name of the "Poems of Ossian," who was the last of the Fenian Chiefs, and who, reported, on his return to Ireland after his enchantment, failed to yield his paganism to St. Patrick's appeals. While generally condemned as the inventor of the lays, the charms of which enthralled even Byron and Goethe, he must surely have been a poet of great merit, if they were of his own composition. But if they were remains of ancient traditions, carried down by word of mouth, Macpherson might at least be credited with weaving them into more or less connected narratives.

There are some emotions that will never be produced through words, for it can only be found in the mastermind of musical composition.

Porter’s next new Hollywood work, MGM’s High Society (1956), was second-division Porter. It hit his characteristic points—the Latin rhythm number in “Mind If I Make Love To You,” the charm song full of syncopation and “wrong” notes in “You’re Sensational.” Porter even turned himself inside out in two numbers for Louis Armstrong, “High Society Calypso” (the Afro-Caribbean anticipation of reggae had just begun to trend in America) and, in duet with Bing Crosby, “Now You Has Jazz.” And the film’s hit, “True Love,” is a waltz so simple neither the vocal nor the chorus has any syncopation whatever. This is smooth Porter, the Tin Pan Alley Porter who wants everyone to like him, even the tourists. Everything about High Society is smooth—to a fault. Armstrong gives it flair, but everyone else is so relaxed he or she might be bantering between acts on a telethon. These are pale replicas of the characters so memorably portrayed in MGM’s first go at this material, The Philadelphia Story, especially by Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. In their first moment, the two are in mid-fight; she breaks his golf clubs and he starts to take a swing at her, recalls himself to manly grace, and simply shoves her self-satisfied mug out of shot. This is not tough love. It’s real anger, and while Philip Barry, who wrote the Broadway Philadelphia Story, is remembered only as a boulevardier, he was in fact a deeply religious writer who interspersed romantic comedies with allegories on the human condition, much as Cole Porter moved between popular and elite composition. Underneath Barry’s Society folderol, provocative relationships undergo scrutiny as if in Christian parable; his characters are likable but worrisome—and, from First Couple Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly on down, there is nothing worrisome in this High Society.

Music is a universe of sound, constantly expanding and dividing. Compositions are carved into movements and passages. A half note branches off into quarter notes, sixteenth notes—the same tone, yet held for a different duration, a different effect. A harmony of multiple notes, a counterpoint of multiple melodies, an orchestra of multiple instruments: separate spheres, playing in parallel. “A composer must make order out of this hopeless profusion of noise. To play every note at once—one big, all-encompassing dot—would produce chaos. To play none would produce silence. But to space them out artfully on a staff of time: that would produce a masterpiece. “And so the composer splits the piece into measures and meter. The notes are held tight within bar lines, told when to ring out and when to die out, when to attack and when to decay. They are given finite boundaries. *You will last for eight breaths, and no more.* To them, time is fixed; to the composer, it is fluid. She could speed it up, slow it down, change duple meter to triple meter or a march to a waltz. She knows that the beauty lies not in how long the note lasts, but in the sound that it makes while it does. “Maybe, the woman thinks, our composer has done the same with us. Lest eternity seem too long and infinity too loud, she imposes measures on our existence, divides it into years, generations, incarnations. We count beats and birthdays. We emerge from the silence, and we fade back into it. This is not a punishment or a curse, any more than it is to assign a time signature to a song. After all, if there is no beat, how can there be a dance? “She does not do this to make us suffer. She does this to make us music.

Traditions are conditioned reflexes. Throughout Part 2 of this book, you will find suggestions for establishing family traditions that will trigger happy anticipation and leave lasting, cherished memories. Traditions around major holidays and minor holidays. Bedtime, bath-time, and mealtime traditions; sports and pastime traditions; birthday and anniversary traditions; charitable and educational traditions. If your family’s traditions coincide with others’ observances, such as celebrating Thanksgiving, you will still make those traditions unique to your family because of the personal nuances you add. Volunteering at the food bank on Thanksgiving morning, measuring and marking their heights on the door frame in the basement, Grandpa’s artistic carving of the turkey, and their uncle’s famous gravy are the traditions our kids salivated about when they were younger, and still do on their long plane rides home at the end of November each year. (By the way, our dog Lizzy has confirmed Pavlov’s observations; when the carving knife turns on, cue the saliva, tail wagging, and doggy squealing.) But don’t limit your family’s traditions to the big and obvious events like Thanksgiving. Weekly taco nights, family book club and movie nights, pajama walks, ice cream sundaes on Sundays, backyard football during halftime of TV games, pancakes in Mom and Dad’s bed on weekends, leaf fights in the fall, walks to the sledding hill on the season’s first snow, Chinese food on anniversaries, Indian food for big occasions, and balloons hanging from the ceiling around the breakfast table on birthday mornings. Be creative, even silly. Make a secret family noise together when you’re the only ones in the elevator. When you share a secret that “can’t leave this room,” everybody knows to reach up in the air and grab the imaginary tidbit before it can get away. Have a family comedy night or a talent show on each birthday. Make holiday cards from scratch. Celebrate major family events by writing personalized lyrics to an old song and karaoking your new composition together. There are two keys to establishing family traditions: repetition and anticipation. When you find something that brings out excitement and smiles in your kids, keep doing it. Not so often that it becomes mundane, but on a regular and predictable enough basis that it becomes an ingrained part of the family repertoire. And begin talking about the traditional event days ahead of time so by the time it finally happens, your kids are beside themselves with excitement. Anticipation can be as much fun as the tradition itself.

Sidney provides the commentary on the DVD, and he tells us that he wanted “a train song.” Warren and Mercer gave him much more than that, for “On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe” is really an “entire town song.” It starts in the saloon—an important location, as it will be at war with the restaurant the Harvey girls wait table in—then moves to the train’s passengers, engineers, and conductor as it pulls in and the locals look everyone over, especially the newly mustered Harveys themselves. Warren’s music has imitated the train’s chugging locomotion, but now comes a trio section not by Warren and Mercer (at “Hey there, did you ever see such pearly femininity … ”), and the girls give us some individual backstories—one claims to have been the Lillian Russell of a small town in Kansas, and principals Ray Bolger and Virginia O’Brien each get a solo, too. The number is not only thus detailed as a composition but gets the ultimate MGM treatment on a gigantic set with intricate interaction among the many soloists, choristers, and extras. But now it’s Garland’s turn to enter the number, disembark, and mix in with the crowd. According to Sidney, Garland executed everything perfectly on the first try—and it was all done in virtually a single shot. Fred Astaire would have insisted on rehearsing it for a week, but Garland was a natural. Once she understood the spirit of a number, the physics of it simply fell into place for her. In any other film of the era, the saloon would be the place where the music was made. And Angela Lansbury, queen of the plot’s rowdy element, does have a floor number, dressed in malevolent black and shocking pink topped by a matching Hippodrome hat. But every other number is a story number—“The Train Must Be Fed” (as the Harveys learn the art of waitressing); “It’s a Great Big World” for anxious Harveys Garland, O’Brien, and a dubbed Cyd Charisse; O’Brien’s comic lament, “The Wild, Wild West,” a forging song at Ray Bolger’s blacksmith shop; “Swing Your Partner Round and Round” at a social. Marjorie Main cues it up, telling one and all that this new dance is “all the rage way

Your grandmother always used to say that we’re all on the same dancefloor, but we all dance to different songs and some of us dance to shorter songs than others.” Some of us don’t even stay for the duration of the song, Rowan thought bitterly. He did remember his granny saying that, that the world was a big dancefloor. “Well, your song is a beautiful composition. Any woman with a bit of common sense will see that.” His grandfather squeezed Rowan’s arm again, took a sip of his whisky and moved to the safer topic of the following week’s football games. An interest in football was a trait Rowan had missed from both sides of his family.

Ethics and Songwriting (The Sonnet) I wish I could write music, For one song is worth ten sonnets. One sonnet is worth ten essays, One essay is worth ten speeches. That's why I have respect for those, Singers who do their own writing. While I pity the empty entertainers, Who do nothing but counterfeiting. It's okay if you sing someone's song, At least make way for equal recognition. Exploiting talent 'cause they're struggling, Is fundamentally a human rights violation. Every industry lacks ethics in its story of origin. It's time we right the wrongs and get humanizing.

The salmon traveled through the waters of the otherworld to Ireland, its perfect form gliding between worlds. Tuan mac Cairill came to Ireland as before the flood, retaining the memories of his centuries of dream lives as Irish totem animals. Incarnated as a salmon, he was eaten by the Queen of Ulster who became pregnant and gave birth to Tuan the human. Like the Sorcerer on the cave wall in France, he is a composite being of fin, wing, tusk, and antler. I had been a man, a stag, a boar, a bird, and now I was a fish. In all my changes I had joy and fulness of life. But in the water joy lay deeper, life pulsed deeper. For on land or air there is always something hindering. The stage has legs to be tucked away for sleep, and untucked for movement; and the bird has wings that must be folded and pecked and cared for. But the fish has but one piece from his nose to his tail. He is complete, single and unencumbered.

This context is important, considering the shape-shifting accounts of witches. Did the experience of being in another living thing’s form in vision or otherwise serve to rewild the mind and position the witch alongside the animal world rather than above it? Like the Sorcerer’s composite body and the Dark Man’s shape-shifting, it implicitly denies our partition from nature. It is in direct opposition to Christian separation.

Using the confessions as the primary source materials, I will focus on five key areas: The dark appearance and appellation Appearance as a composite being Shape-shifting Interceptor and trickster nature Sex and sexual interest in human beings

Led Zeppelin often tuned their instruments away from the modern A440 standard to give their music an uncommon sound, and perhaps to link it with the European children’s folk songs that inspired many of their compositions.

The opening invocation to Yahweh in the Song of Deborah presents him as proceeding in triumph from Seir, the regions of Edom (Judg. 5.4). Seir comes to be synonymous with Edom [Gen. 32.4; Num. 24.18; Judg. 4.5; Ezek. 35], but it can have a more specific reference as designating a region west of the Arabah [cf. Josh. 11.17; 12.7; 15.10]. The original Edomite homeland was east of the Arabah, but after the formation of the kingdom, Edom expanded to take in territory to the west [cf. Deut. 2.12, 22]. A much later composition (Isa. 63.1-6) also presents Yahweh as coming from Edom. (pp. 136-137) (from 'The Midianite-Kenite Hypothesis Revisited and the Origins of Judah', JSOT 33.2 (2008): 131-153)

It seemed as if Muzak had sucked the soul out of the songs, but in fact they had created something entirely new, something close to what Satie imagined: furniture music, music that was clearly a useful and (to their subscribers) functional part of the environment, there to induce calm and tranquility in their shops and offices. Why is it that Satie’s compositions, Brian Eno’s ambient music, or the minimal spaced-out

The same, Saira believes, goes for his creativity. ‘He just says it comes from God, which is the truth. I must say he’s God’s gifted child. One song of his made me cry when my mother was on her deathbed. It was a song he sang called “Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo”. I would keep listening to it and keep crying. It was not his composition, but the way he sang it was just out of this world.

Art reflects the current composition of a human soul. Perhaps when the artist finally arrives at the point of making art, an artist perceives all earlier drafts as remnants of their former loathsome self. Perhaps when the songwriter stops writing songs, the singer ceases singing, the musician no longer strums his or her instrument, and the poet no longer strings lyrical verses together they have entered a kingdom of one, a realm of aesthetical and ethical certitude. Perhaps when the writer who creates a piece of literature worthy of bestowing the exalted title of art, he or she must exhibit the same gracious manners by following suit by speaking no more.

#COMPOSITION COMPETITION 2019 SMP PRESS CATEGORY : SACRED MUSIC - INSTRUMENTAL ENSEMBLE FROM PMD MUSIC CREATION #smppress `This song is packaged using 113 pieces of effects (braid 13 types of mixer effects) and instrument generator selection. Lyric of Song: ENDURING OUR LIVE (C=1, 4/4) (Intro) Enduring our live, complaining and complaining Keep looking at Jesus Christ The Lord, He is The Saviour Jesus Christ The Lord, Jesus Christ The Lamb of God, He died for the ransom of the world Jesus Christ The Lord, Jesus Christ The Lamb of God, He rose for the people who believe Jesus Christ, He is my saviour, Jesus Christ, He is your saviour too, keep believing In faith our life, we must not complain more Jesus Christ The Lord who gave love to us, Hallelujah (Interlude/Instrumental) Jesus Christ, He is my saviour, Jesus Christ, He is your saviour too, says “I’m believe” Friends, let’s be grow up, be light up, let’s be strong and fruitfull And win many souls for Jesus Christ Jesus Christ The Lord with The Holly Spirit accompany us in ministry Ministring choice for the best believers (Interlude/Instrumental) Jesus Christ The Lord with The Holly Spirit accompany us in ministry Ministring choice for the best believers COMPOSER : SR.Pakpahan,SST Lyricst : SR.Pakpahan,SST Web Url link look at sheetmusicplus. com/title/enduring-our-live-digital-sheet-music/21378128 #smppress

Gluten, a major component of wheat, barley, and rye, is a composite of two different proteins, gliadin and glutelin. Gluten is what gives bread its stretchiness and elasticity, qualities most folks enjoy. But gluten also makes some people seriously ill. It is estimated that about 1 percent of the population is gluten intolerant, though most are unaware of it. If gluten-intolerant individuals eat gluten grains, they develop what’s known as celiac disease. Celiac disease is an autoimmune condition in which the gliadin protein in gluten grains generates an antibody-mediated immune-system attack against the intestines, leading to chronic diarrhea, fatigue, stunting of growth, vitamin and mineral deficiencies, anemia, nerve damage, and osteoporosis. Furthermore, those with celiac disease have higher rates of cancer, schizophrenia, and a whole host of autoimmune illnesses (Jackson et al. 2012; Rubio-Tapia and Murray 2010), suggesting that the body’s response to gluten affects more than just the intestines. And, on the flip side, almost every chronic autoimmune disease we know of is associated with a significantly increased risk of celiac disease (Cosnes et al. 2008; Rousset 2004; Rodrigo et al. 2011; Song and Choi 2004).

But it was Ireland’s mercurial folklore that supplied Bax with the dominant voice in his compositions. Beginning with Cathaleen-na-Hoolihan (1905), written three years after encountering Yeats, the list of his tone poems (spanning the years 1909–31) reads like the contents of an Arts and Crafts compendium of decadent fairy tales: In the Faery Hills, Rosc-catha, Spring Fire, Nympholept, The Garden of Fand, November Woods, Tintagel, The Happy Forest, The Tale the Pine Trees Knew. A sensualist and erotic adventurer (in 1910 he pursued a ukrainian girl he was infatuated with from St Petersburg to Kiev), Bax created lush, richly foliated sound-forests that attempted to conjure up a sense of narcotic abandon and the intoxicating conjunction of myth and landscape. In the Faery Hills (1909) takes its cue from a section in Yeats’s Wanderings of Oisin in which the Sídhe force a troubadour to sing them a song. Aware of their reputation as festive types, Oisin launches into his most joyous ditty. To the Sídhe, it still sounds like the most depressing dirge they’ve ever heard, so they toss his harp into a pool and whisk him away to show him how to party like it’s AD 99. Bax claimed to have been ‘possessed by Kerry’s self’5 while writing it.

MacColl is often accused of encouraging parochialism by insisting on musicians confining their repertoire to their own place of origin. His own set lists were more eclectic: he was equally interested in Child ballads, nursery rhymes and miners’ songs, and he slipped in his own compositions too. These were by no means universally political: his most famous composition, ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’ – which won Roberta Flack a Grammy in 1972 after her cover version appeared in the film Play Misty for Me – commemorated his love for Peggy Seeger. The dictatorial view of MacColl largely stems from his Critics Group, instigated in 1964 as a masterclass for would-be singers, in which MacColl and Seeger could pass on their years of expertise.

Traditional music is the foundation of what the folk music revival was about—songs of unknown authorship handed down through the generations. I keep returning to these old, classic songs, often bringing them back to find new meaning and fresh interpretations. “Danny Boy,” “The Lark in the Morning,” “Barbara Allen,” “So Early, Early in the Spring,” and “The Gypsy Rover” have lasted for years and will endure for years more. They touch your heart, and for anyone trying to write new and original songs, they stand as an unspoken challenge: make something as good and as timeless as this and you will have won the heart of your listener. You also will have added something to the story of humankind. Traditional songs didn’t just spring from the earth, of course. Somebody somewhere came up with a melody through which to tell a story, and that story-song got passed along. These songs survive in the memory of a culture because they tell stories of universal emotion and experience—of love, heartbreak, mourning, abandonment, victory, and defeat—and because they are so very adaptable to so many times, to so many people. One person would add a verse; another would change a melody a bit. This is what we call the “folk process,” borrowing to fit the time, the person, the incident.

After the funeral, they went to a private club in Chelsea, where they drank and jammed the night away together—greats and nobodies alike. The slightly acrimonious, sardonic Mickey, a fan of folk and world music, would have been pleased. [...] Yurik played, too, his own composition, which he had been working on for the entire year. In memory of Mickey. For it was Mickey, who had lived so easily, so lightly, and had died so painfully, who had instilled in Yurik the consciousness that, in the highest sense, music had no authorship. It was a gift, and an ability to read the divine book, to transpose a universal sound that needed no notation into the language of paltry musical instruments, invented for the convenience and purpose of transmitting supremely important messages—messages that could not be conveyed in any other way ... And the best ears, the best hearts and souls of this spiritual dimension called music, listened to Yurik's song that evening. And heard it.

been into Kraftwerk and Bam was into Kraftwerk, and we just had the idea of merging the two songs together,” Baker later recalled.75 “He had been hearing those songs all over the city, seemingly from every boombox and car stereo. John Robie, the studio engineer, only used those songs as a starting point for his own synthesizer compositions on the Micromoog and Prophet 5. . . . When we went in to do ‘Planet Rock,’ we were worried that we'd have problems with Kraftwerk, so we did another melody line,” Baker specified, evoking the way he and Soulsonic Force took to building their studio music out of several interchangeable parts.76 Nonetheless, Kraftwerk sued the label Tommy

The songs of Fleetwood Mac are replete with magical tunes that urge the frenzy in you to rebel against double-edged tedium. Daedal composition of colour-warmed message on their albums prolongs my evenings beyond steadfast sunsets.

They began a new version of ‘Baby’s Request’ the next day. The song has been likened to ‘Honey Pie,’ a pastiche in a 1930’s pop style, but there is a difference. While ‘Honey Pie’ was a sly parody of the style, ‘Baby’s Request’ is a straightforward adaptation of the style’s hallmarks, commissioned by a vocal group that specialized in it. It also suited one side of Paul’s compositional sensibility at the moment: except for the overt punk-influenced tracks, a growing number of his recent compositions used a harmonic language more germane to jazz than rock. In ‘Baby’s Request,’ augmented chords, and chords with added sevenths and ninths are plentiful and support a gentle, eminently croonable melody.

Sami Abouzid Singer | Songwriter | Music Producer | Author | Publisher Profile: A versatile and accomplished artist with over two decades of experience in the music industry. Sami Abouzid is a singer, songwriter, music producer, and music arranger who has established himself as a creative force in both the music and literary worlds. Renowned for his original compositions and innovative soundscapes, Sami is also a published author with a passion for storytelling. Professional Experience: Founder & CEO White Horse Records (2003–Present) • Established an independent record label to promote original music and artistic innovation. • Managed all aspects of production, marketing, and distribution for multiple projects. Band Leader Romantic Star (2003–Present) • Formed and led the band, releasing music that resonated with audiences worldwide. • Released debut album Romantic Dreams, featuring the hit song “Vanessa,” which gained airplay on multiple U.S. radio stations. Soundtrack Composer (2013–Present) • Transitioned into the world of soundtracks, starting with Isabella in 2013. • Composed, arranged, and produced 657 original soundtracks, known for their emotional depth and cinematic quality. Music Artist (2001–Present) • Released 54 albums and 50 singles available in stores worldwide. • Composed, arranged, mixed, mastered, performed, and produced all his music independently. Books Authored: • Love, Life, and Music – A reflection on creativity and personal experiences. • Scarlett Johansson Forever – A tribute to art, passion, and inspiration. • Arabic Poetry – A collection of poetic works exploring love and emotion. Skills & Expertise: • Music Composition, Arrangement, Mixing, and Mastering • Songwriting and Lyric Creation • Soundtrack Development for Film and Media • Publishing and Record Label Management • Literary Writing and Poetry Notable Achievements: • Pioneered a new era of music with over 700 compositions, soundtracks, albums, and singles. • Gained international recognition with music featured on major radio stations in the U.S. • Successfully bridged the gap between music and literature, creating a lasting artistic legacy.

The Winter’s Tale, unless we take it as such a story, does indeed subject us to this strain if for no other reason than that it is such a heterogeneous fairy tale--it is fact. It is romantic--it is realistic. It is tragic--it is comic. It is Christian--it is pagan. It is harsh and crabbed--it is simple and idyllic. It is this--it is that. It is a welter of anachronisms. Its geography is in spots fantastic. It has not only gods, but a bear, a storm, and a yacht, from the machine. And, as for its construction, if it had been expressly written to defy the classic unities, it could hardly have violated them more fragrantly. It plays the old witch with time and space and compactness of action, sprawling form Sicilia to Bohemia-with-a-seacoast, leaping over sixteen years in the middle, and (apparently at least) so deviding the interest that many have called it two plays tied by the slenderest of threads rather than one. Yet, as is usual with Shakespeare, these diversities serve a purpose, and the play has more seriousness, unity, and singleness of effect than is immediately apparent. For like a complex musical composition that strikes us as full of discords but we eventually come to like, The Winter’s Tale has the gift on more intimate acquaintance of insinuating its way into the affections and understandings of many who were originally unsympathetic or even repelled by its heterogeneities. Autolycus expresses it perfectly: And when I wander here and there, I then do most go right. It might be Shakespeare’s “apology” buried just where one might expect Shakespeare to bury it, in a song.

Thanks to its strong and broadly diffused organizational hubs, the Fasci spread quickly across Sicily. By January 1893 collectives had begun to appear in the island's smallest towns and villages. In the countryside, where less than 15 percent of the population were literate, participants in the movement generally expressed their grievances and demands by appeal to religious icons. During demonstrations, for example, while some participants would chant secular Marxist rhetoric about the need for radical redistribution, others would wield figures of saints and sing patriotic songs. Sometimes these influences even fused in an unlikely manner. Hundreds in the ranks carried crucifixes and candles while, at the same time, arguing that a rich and corrupt clergy had co-opted the fundamental truth of the faith, and that Jesus was an archetype for socialism. The composition of the cells was similarly diverse. Adolfo Rossi, a journalist who covered the revolts for the Roman newspaper La Tribuna, was particularly struck by the extensive female participation. Women, he reported, not only filled the ranks, rejecting their "usual" position in the background, they were leaders too. Girls as young as fifteen years old were on the frontlines of the movement. The single factor that enabled the Fasci to contain such a diverse political constituency within their ranks was the strength of their internal democratic process. Each of the bundles decided their policy proposals and direct actions based on a popular majority vote.

For everyone out there, who is watching your loved ones dancing with someone else, for the songs that you had written for them. Remember this. Not everyone can come up with beautiful compositions. It takes a heart that knows no boundaries, and a soul that shines with a light, that can make even the gods go blind. They took away your song, but not your soul. Start writing the new ones, and you will eventually find someone who will sing every song written by you, beautifully, and only for you.