Quote:
Originally Posted by enroe
Right flute, left piano ... it starts off very nicely,
Christmassy.
Then the drums kick in and you leave the "mainstream"
framework a bit here. On the one hand unusual - on the
other hand, this is where it gets interesting - because
from here the listener is seduced into the underworld!
At the end you garnish the whole thing with a baroque
harpsichord barrel.
I would choose the title "The Kidnapping of the
Christ Child". So the title is just as amazing as the
song itself.
Very awesome the whole thing! Keep it up!
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Quote:
Originally Posted by 41TWIN
Your mix and sounds are very clean and good. Besides the low vocals. Wild playing and song.
Only time I ever made much money with music is I currently play bass in a country band. For some reason bars hand out money for us to play covers.
Original music? No clue.
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Thanks... I got a lot of negative feedback about the vocals and balalaika (electric guitar solo).
I had a flu, and thought it sounded like Noam Chomsky, which I liked, but was told it was very creepy, which isn't a vibe I wanted... so re-working vocals now.
{edit, new take} is it better?
https://albertmckay.bandcamp.com/track/143-b
I also got some bassoon recordings from an old song, that manages to fit certain places (under the guitar solo where certain notes were weak).
I slapped that climbing-mountain progression in the harpsichord 6/4 section, which... should sound Christmasy in theory, but maybe it doesn't...
I'm also uncertain about lyrics... they should maybe be sung confidently, at least the first verse I'd wanted to feel comforting, like Leonard Cohen holding me in his arms... not like... a psycho holding me in his arms. When I'm listening now, I feel like the word "quill" sounds totally arbitrary, forced-rhyme. Is that just me?
If I could know you're feeling right
the fire's ash is drifting white
I'd sleep so still and wide and light
on this cold starless night
goodbye, although we're feeling bled
the fur and ash are newly wed
keep your quill, don't hide in red
in that old, star lit head
the snow outside has softly set
the frosted glass. A rusty fret
is cheep goodwill so wild and wet
take a bold Pascalian bet