Wynn Schaible - Electronic Production - THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN RETRO Return with us now to those thrilling days of yestertomorrow, as our intrepid Hero climbs into the "Lastmillenium Butcherbird" to battle musical clichés and boring videos with his faithful Indian companion Lakshmi! (have I skewered enough memes yet?) The silent movie clips are from Fritz Lang’s 1929 “Woman in the Moon.” Hermann Oberth, von Braun’s mentor, was science advisor on this one, and indeed dedicated his rather technical book “Ways to Space Travel” to Lang and his scriptwriter/leading lady Thea von Harbou. If this or any other work I have used is still under copyright NO INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED, fair use for a noncommercial purpose.
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Wynn Schaible - Electronic Production
THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN RETRO Return with us now to those thrilling days of yestertomorrow, as our intrepid Hero climbs into the "Lastmillenium Butcherbird" to battle musical clichés and boring videos with his faithful Indian companion Lakshmi! (have I skewered enough memes yet?) The silent movie clips are from Fritz Lang’s 1929 “Woman in the Moon.” Hermann Oberth, von Braun’s mentor, was science advisor on this one, and indeed dedicated his rather technical book “Ways to Space Travel” to Lang and his scriptwriter/leading lady Thea von Harbou. If this or any other work I have used is still under copyright NO INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED, fair use for a noncommercial purpose.
Uploaded 1 month ago
QUIERIDA --I head south of the border, where my thoughts ever stray...
Received lots of comments & props
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982  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
WHERE ARE YOU? a jazz ballad with a question.
Received lots of comments & props
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1,057  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
CELTIC ECHOES a simple instrumental. Video features magnificent local scenery, some of my fractal and graphic creations, and illustrations from the Book of Kells.
Received lots of comments & props
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1,676  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
THE MOONS OF XENALMA A serenade for 2 classic guitars and handdrums. For Gene O'Neill.
Received lots of comments & props
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1,969  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
The Gates of Paradise Homage to Messiaen? The Avant-Garde gets it on with the Soul/Jazz Rhythms in the ambiguous Paradise of an interplanetary Boschfest. Be forewarned!
Received lots of comments & props
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1,493  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
The Girl with Red Hair. Dance! Dance! Dance! Like nobody's watching! Highest YT video resolution, please!
Received lots of comments & props
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1,591  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Adios, Atonalita A trio for Yamaha drumbox, keyboard, and saxes here, with a nod to "Bitches' Brew" Miles and Philly phixture Sun Ra. Guaranteed never to receive airplay on your local "smooth jazz" station! And thanks to Mustafa Alasadi for the samba dancers.
Received lots of comments & props
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1,623  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
WHO KILLED LADY MINE? Am I watching too many crime shows? LYRICS : She lives a life of trial, in constant agitá, In layers of denial, wrapped up in omertá. When as I feared, she disappeared, We all assumed the worst She saw it coming way too late Who should have seen it first. Who set hearts to cryin’? Who killed Lady Mine? Who crossed over the line? Who killed Lady Mine? The cops who came to tell me Are the best these things allow. They couldn’t hide that she had died, Bu wouldn’t tell me how. I hung my head, I only said, Please give me time to cry. They didn’t want to hear my pain, But just my alibi. I named the usual suspects, You’ve seen them on tv. The stalker with a case of madness, Politics, and VD. Co-worker jealous of her looks, Her oh so loving spouse, But they were miles ahead of me, They’d already searched the house. The best of men are men at best His hands are far from clean He’s throttled dreams, I’ve heard their screams, He struck the gypsy queen. The psychic gore spilled on the floor Too gross for Freud to see, Diabolical X-rated body cam on Discovery ID! Somebody said they heard from her It must have been a dream Am I supposed to kiss the ground Or shake my fist and scream? My ginseng root, my rabbits foot I rubbed for superstition. I couldn’t bear this bad nightmare To be a premonition.
Received lots of comments & props
63
1,977  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Saint James' Infirmary I am not one for covers or remixes. But occasionally a song comes – virtually always from the Folk tradition – that expresses the situation so well that one is virtually forced to hang musical hat and coat on its well-positioned clothespegs, throw open the shades and windows, paint or repaper the walls, and rearrange the furniture to suit. Just so I have done here, ably assisted by Monica Bergo, who knows one or two things about those darkened rooms herself. Those who have heard me sing in German, French, and Italian will understand – and perhaps even forgive – my essaying the accent of New Orleans.
Received lots of comments & props
85
2,049  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Mama's House (Waiting for Godot!) Waiting for Godot was an absurdist play of the Fifties. Two gentlemen sit on a park bench talking about nothing and awaiting the arrival of a M. Godot, who it becomes increasingly plain is not going to show. “We have to leave,” they say – but do not move. Like that other Fifties icon Lolita, hardly anyone had read it (let alone seen it) but everybody understood the despairing futility of the title. Monica Bergo and I update the meme according to our own special formula: a little hip-hop, a little jazz, a little prog-rock, and a whole lotta Monica! LYRICS: Ah-ah-ah (He spends his life in mama’s house) Ah-ah-ah (Video games on mama’s couch) Ah-ah-ah (He shares the basement with the mouse) Ah-ah-ah (He spends his life in mama’s house) Waiting for the aliens To sweep the planet clean Waiting for the House of Cards To nullify ‘sixteen Waiting for the kind of man You said would have to go Waiting for a Five-Year Plan Waiting for Godot! Now he’s dreaming of Lola Falana But he can’t make it with Chiquita Banana And he thinks what he wants is Nirvana But he’s dreaming of Lola Falana Push the button all you want Container’s out of Pez Mirá La Passionaria Ocasio-Cortez Waiting for a broken pump To make the water flow Waiting by the city dump Waiting for Godot! ‘Cause the mensch on the bench has dementia Yeah, the mensch on the bench has dementia There’s a stench from the trench, it’ll monkey-wrench ya ‘Cause the mensch on the bench has dementia Me, I’m waiting for a freer world With no photo ID I’m waiting for the flag unfurled To honor you and me Waiting for a holiday So we can take it slow Waiting for a better way Waiting for Godot! ‘Cause the mensch on the bench has dementia Yeah, the mensch on the bench has dementia There’s a stench from the trench, it’ll monkey-wrench ya ‘Cause the mensch on the bench has dementia And he’s dreaming of Lola Falana But he can’t make it with Chiquita Banana And he thinks what he wants is Nirvana But he’s dreaming of Lola Falana He spends his life in mama’s house (He’s got no real life of his own) Video games on mama’s couch (Get up, it ain’t no effin’ throne) He shares the basement with the mouse (Where he can’t hear his daddy groan) He spends his life in mama’s house
Received lots of comments & props
100
4,303  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
O Du Fröhliche This carol is known in the English-speaking world (when it is played at all) as “O Sanctissima” or “Siciliana.” I discovered and fell in love with it in its German version. The backgrounds are from Christmas cards I have made over the years. The Phantom Recorder Consort wishes a very merry Christmas to all
Received lots of comments & props
71
2,251  
Wynn Schaible - Recorders
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
THE CRAB MUST DIE! Dedicated to all who have reason to understand what I say. No, my friends, not I myself, but...we will let it go out that!
Received lots of comments & props
71
2,294  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
THE ONE WHO IS NOT THERE featuring the incomparable Monica Bergo A voyage and a half ago, A Universe behind Reveal a face I cannot know, Nor banish from my mind, In scenes that scroll like déja vu Reprise of ancient roles: Where hearts are bold and love is true In bodies and in souls. What kind of fools are we This problematic she And me on the edge of a dream? (Such a beautiful dream) Say that it cannot be cannot be Impossibility I float with the current upstream. I long to hold her tight to me At what cost, I don’t care. And pray somehow she might not be THE ONE WHO IS NOT THERE. The northern winds of change howl cold As ever gales have blown. They speak of dangers new, not old, And braving them alone. The southwind screams of war and hate, Of cruelty and strife Submission to unbending fate Yet somehow more of life. Beauties in veils From Scheherazade’s tales (the Arabian Nights) Flash their soft eyes and know how to yield (yes they do, yes they do) Their sisters in bare skin and tattoos Ask where are the men that they’ve chased from the field (like some Amazon queen). Yet though I’m flesh and blood like you, And do wish to be fair, They cannot hold a candle to THE ONE WHO IS NOT THERE. **************** Where is she hiding out? What is this all about? What is our role in this play? (all the world is a stage) Why do I see her face? Who set this runner’s pace? What does He want me to say? When shall I hold her tight to me As in my dream and prayer, And know she will no longer be THE ONE WHO IS NOT THERE?
Received lots of comments & props
53
2,535  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
MEZZO CAMMIN “Midway in the road of Life” – thus Dante begins his journey, lost in the Dark Wood. MONICA BERGO (l’Alighierina la piú bella) and I take a walk there. The Italian at the beginning is mine, hers at the end Dante’s last lines from the Divine Comedy. And indeed – what but Love is the ultimate answer? Alas, to speak now of Love moving the sun and stars – let alone our stony human hearts – is to brand oneself either a Believer radically out of synch with his time or an acid casualty left behind by the flow of events. And who knows? – Perhaps I am both! Cuore de ghiaccio, pensieri fredi, Mezzo a morte ma ancora in piedi. Sogni proibiti, anima nera, Disperato domani, spietato stasera. Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’intrate! I was walkin’ doin’ what I thought I should, Find myself alone and lost in this dark wood, Shadows movin’ fit to make a brave man fear, Vergil you understand, come get me outta here! “Cause the lion and the leopard and the she-wolf are all there, Joined by the vulture and the tiger and the bear. The madmen pierce their flesh to raise more than a scare It’s not elsewhere. OH GOD, please send some light, We’ve strayed much further than we might THICK FOG blocks line of sight It’s black as night MEZZO CAMMIN The monsters raise their hands DEMAND THEIR RIGHTS! Vampires make demands TURN OUT THE LIGHTS! The zombies seize the stage DENY FREE WILL! The thugs sense weakness, MOVE IN FOR THE KILL OH GOD, forgive the slight, We took your place without the right. WORLD READY to ignite One match to light OH GOD, please send some light We’ve strayed much further than we might THICK FOG blocks line of sight It’s black as night MEZZO CAMMIN The charlatans all know THE SIGNS AND TIMES! The hypocrites all CHARGE YOU WITH THEIR CRIMES The blind men hate the ones WHO STILL CAN SEE The sickos re- DEFINE REALITY! OH GOD, please send some light, We’ve strayed much further than we might. THICK FOG blocks line of sight It’s black as night OH GOD, please show your might, It’s past our strength to put it right. WORLD READY to ignite One match to light MEZZO CAMMIN
Received lots of comments & props
86
4,175  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
"DuO" A collaboration with synth-and-keyboardist Eric Rosso. I play the saxes, he does everything else and wrote the piece. Enjoy!
Received lots of comments & props
74
4,314  
Wynn Schaible - Saxophones
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
LA PLUS BELLE DAME DU NORD And now for something completely different! An acoustic fantasy in Franglais, Michelle as Québecoise! LYRICS: La plus belle dame du Nord, (the most beautiful lady of the North) She gives the guys what for. Still they come back for more Hard core La plus belle dame du Nord. She will not give son cœur, (her heart) Or take my own for her, Although she is ma fleur (my flower) J’ai peur (I’m afraid) She will not give son cœur. She says I’m trop agé, (too old) The devil’s there to pay, And it makes me desolé, (desolated) I say, To be turned down that way. And so Adieux, Chêrie, (goodby) You’re not the one for me. But ah, if you could be, Yippee! Then Bienvenue, Chêrie! (welcome)
Received lots of comments & props
47
3,186  
Wynn Schaible - Vocals/ guitar/ mandolin/ accordion
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
I DREAMT THAT I DREAMED And am I even now awake? Initially inspired by JOHN CORSARO’s Marz Band and the fusion work of ALAN HAMILTON, the finished piece owes at least as much to Yes, Heine, and my fascination with halftone intervals. Enjoy! LYRICS: I dreamt that I dreamed I was flying And woke falling fast in midair. In my sleep heard a woman’s loud crying And rose sensing laughter somewhere. Has my solitude stolen my reason? Have I just been too long at the fair? ‘Cause it seems like the end of the season, And at this point I don’t even care. I dreamt that I dreamed I was winning, And woke having blown the whole game. Three men on and two out, the last inning, But they still struck me out all the same. Did I hoist up my sails in the rigging For a voyage that never could go, Or just throw down my pick and stop digging With paydirt two inches below? I dreamt that I dreamed we were lovers In scenes only porn would repeat, And woke with no stains on the covers, And you dressed and wrapped in the sheet. Am I greedy or needy or normal? Are you hesitant, shifty or shy? In the end the distinction is formal, And the dream sadly ends in goodbye.
Received lots of comments & props
59
4,242  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
DREAM OPERA FANDA (the incomparable Monica Bergo and myself) PRESENTS “Dream.” Perhaps my dreams are the most normal part of me. Perhaps the towers of old Strelsau yet lift themselves into an unpolluted sky and life goes on beneath them much as it always has, despite two world wars, fundamental cultural change, and mass immigration. Perhaps even in the starry recesses of the night to imagine that it somehow could is a madness for which today’s selfappointed guardians of sanity would reach for the pharmacopeia with the same alacrity their nineteenth-century predecessors showed for the straitjacket. But la Monica is at her finest here, and of that there is no “perhaps!” In my dream my white hair turned to red, The years flew away And I drew my sword for the princess Though I was but king for a day. I spoke as a master to masterful men, Saw through their plots before they were clear to them. Great Caesar’s odds were not longer than mine, But like him I stood on the Rubicon line ‘Twas no jest Alea jacta est And I won. But the kingdom was ripped from my hands in the sun, and what’s worse, So was the princess. I fought for you this night (You’re fading away) With a love pure and right (I can see the light through you) I swore you a vow (I can’t hear what you say) But it’s lost to me now. (And I barely yet knew you) WE’RE CAUGHT IN A RAGING IMPLACABLE STREAM PULLED DOWN BY THE CURRENT OF END OF THE DREAM (One time) I can’t reach your hand (Two times) There’s nowhere to stand. THE WAVES ARE TOO GRAND WE’RE FAR FROM THE LAND GOODBYE, GOODBYE, GOODBYE Now I wake exactly as before In so-called Reality. And I draw my check from the company And cash it with photo ID. I speak as a servant to servants in hall, Their plain simple English makes no sense at all Great Caesar surely would laugh at my stakes, But like him I wagered it all on the breaks Took my stand Aces and eights in my hand And I lost. So I live my life daily in peril and cost and what’s worse, So does the princess. Send my youth down below (Where are you my hero?) For it will prove disloyal. (The time’s close to zero) Let the kingdom go (Don’t say such a thing) For I am most unroyal. (You were always my king) TELL THE TRACKERS AND HACKERS THEY CAN’T YET RAID OUR DREAMS TELL THE MOON ON THE WATER WE LOVE HER REFLECTED BEAMS Will we ever heal? (Ah, God only knows) Please tell me you’re real (I give you this rose) WE’VE COME TO THE CLOSE YOU KNOW HOW IT GOES GOODBYE (Goodbye) GOODBYE Goodbye GOODBYE Notes: Alea Jacta Est (the die is cast) were the words uttered by Caesar as he crossed the Rubicon with his army in direct defiance of the most forceful order of the Senate, a move which must inevitably lead either to his execution for treason or seizure of supreme power in Rome. Yes, purists, I know the Romans only used one die, but what was their lucky number? Cut me a break before I curse you out in Latin! Aces and eights: Old West legend Wild Bill Hickock was shot in the back while playing poker. Those were the cards he was holding, and have been known ever since as the “Dead Man’s Hand.” No effect on the game itself, but they’ve become a symbol for death or bad luck. There’s some dispute over what the “hole card” was but many say the Queen of Hearts, and understandably that’s what I went with. Sogni d’Oro: literally “dreams of gold.” Traditional Italian good-night wish.
Received lots of comments & props
90
4,758  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Harmonia por C.D. An instrumental, short but bittersweet. An intermezzo, if you will, while the larger opus about which I've dropped such frustratingly vague hints in some of my comments remains delayed by technical difficulties. Title from a suggestion by Monica Bergo, who will be appearing in that opus once it's ready.
Received lots of comments & props
56
3,673  
Wynn Schaible - Keyboards and percussion
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Are You She? This instrumental piece -- more free-form than my wont -- asks an eternal question. Ladies who feel the answer might be Yes are of course invited to respond... Except for the saxes, all sounds in this piece were made by my Yamaha drumpad box and my new Yamaha keyboard -- fantastic instruments both! As to the video, I followed the showman's immemorial advice: when you get yourself into a jam bring on the dancing girls! Oh, and dinosaurs and UFOs don't hurt either... Wishing you an enjoyable experience for my first effort of the New Year!
Received lots of comments & props
115
4,683  
Wynn Schaible - Sax/ percussion/ keyboards
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
♫*´¨`*•.¸¸.♫ Cuore di strega (L'incantatrice) ♫*´¨`*•.¸¸.♫ THE HEART OF THE WITCH I'm helping Monica vocally with a strange tale Strange the story that the wind narrated It was a distant whisper Slow wound me and surrounded me Like the echo of a shaman song I always listen to you, wind that you know Ancient and enchanting legends While you whisper my memory brings me back to past experiences Beautiful, beautiful, she was beautiful Living for an infinite time she was a witch of sweet poison And a heart tattooed on the breast Thousands of men around her But of them, she did not care Her power was immense and therefore Submitting the world she wanted "I can cross the walls and get back life to everything that dies I move objects and I can cure Any kind of hurt or pain I try to proselytes in people like me comes from the blackest world I pck up the evil auras and I will My unclean and austere army " Wind ,please, tell me how it went I do not want to wait any longer Of course the witch then fell in love And her heart filled with heat Black, black, she was black And she could not change She did not know the love however Her weak point is the heart A knight who passed by In those obscure darkness He took a knife Her chest rip He carefully concealed her heart Shouts, cries, the witch shouts Full of blind fury Without her heart She forced will be To obey that knight Heart, heart, witch heart Beat for an infinite time I happy dance on your ticking And I feel a little witch me too Now the witch is not so beautiful she's just a blurry shadow Black dressed The mind blurred she goes in nothingness crazy The only way to get your heart back Is to enter a woman's body The knight to fall in love And hit him while still dreaming Wind, please do not tell me more Which I no longer want to hear But here's the shaman song again And the witch takes me by the hand ............... Monica Bergo
Received lots of comments & props
61
4,804  
Wynn Schaible - Vocal
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Coventry Carol. The Phantom Recorder Consort go a-wassailing!
Received lots of comments & props
66
4,417  
Wynn Schaible - Recorders/ guitar/ percussion
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Invocation (of the Guardian Angels) OPERA FANDA RETURNS, as Monica Bergo and I battle the Powers of Darkness. Surely, especially in today’s world, the perception that people and values we treasure are under attack by forces not merely antithetical, but evil, cannot seem strange to any. How one conceptualizes those forces seems less important than that they are acknowledged, and far less important still than that they are resisted! Here in the realm of Art we have sent some demons back to Hell where they belong: how much difference this makes in the “real” world is …hopefully of more significance than some of the materialist philosophies extant in our time would suggest! Still, as the visionary said, “poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world,” and Monica and I hereby present you our efforts. And caution you not to overwork your Guardian Angel! No weapon formed against you shall prosper, For the Lord is by your side. His eyes and ears are open, They can run, but cannot hide. The words men say in secret, They will pay for in the sun. The evil thoughts they cherish Will count as things they’ve done. Angels of the light, Angels of the air, A circle of protection round the one who is so fair. Angels of great power, majesty and might, Guard the lady from the enemies of the light. Draw the magic circle, bound it with a square, Angels of the four winds, drive all evil far from there. Dwellers of the ether, seen with second sight, Draw your flaming swords and join the battle for the right!
Received lots of comments & props
61
4,501  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Missing in Action Some years ago – more than I care to count – a friend of mine had a band, a very good band, a band that just might actually have gone somewhere. Then the other members decided they didn’t want to quit their day jobs just when he’d lined up a string of gigs that would have made that necessary. This, unfortunately, was only the beginning of his reverses, and some months later, when Rolling Stone magazine put out a booklet on the Philly rock scene, he was listed as “missing in action.” That kicked something in my mind and out came this song, in the best tradition of rock-n-roll ambiguity both about my friend and a soldier cut off from his unit and left behind for dead in Nam or some other hellhole of war. After long decades I finally have the technology available to me to make a decent recording of it. And I’m sorry to add that health issues kept GUS GIUDICI from playing lead on “his” song. But I borrowed his Tele… Notes: Chieu Hoy (Open Arms) was the South Vietnamese government’s amnesty program for Cong who wanted to stop fighting. Still on Patrol is the Submarine Service equivalent of Missing in Action. LYRICS: Abandoned by his comrades In the heat of the strife, Near the moment of the breakout They cried every man save his own life. Now it’s a long running fire fight Just to hold the ground he’s on. His hopes of victory grow dim And HQ thinks he’s gone. Missing in action, fighting for dreams, Down in his foxhole, where no one hears his screams. He hasn’t sold out, signed off the goal, Missing in action, still on patrol. They’ll hit you at the dawning They’ll rob you of your joy They’ll strike and give no warning, Or offer you Chieu Hoy. So he put on his disguises, An agent gone to ground. He’s living through the crisis Although he can’t be found Missing in action… He’s keeping a low profile He keeps his powder clean, He takes up with the native girls And finds a safe routine. He polishes his weapons, He’s waiting for the call, And if the days turn into years It happens to us all! Missing in action…
Received lots of comments & props
42
4,488  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Saving the World -- for my first solo project in a year I return to my Folk roots, and once again Politics rears its ugly head -- sort of, anyway. A song I call "Saving the World." .............SAVING THE WORLD,,,,,,,,,,,, While you were out saving the world I made up a to-do list. I'm glad that your flag is unfurled, But there's places your presence is missed. They'll be needing it still though your candidate wins, And if you could save this whole world from its sins, The trash would still be here: it's filled up the bins While you were out saving the world. Since you've been out saving the world You've left all your old friends in a bind: To bend as your own life is curled, Or you'll leave them still further behind. For if truly such danger's about in the air They'd be blind not to see it and fools not to care. They still love you, although their concern is not THERE -- But you were out saving the world. When I was out saving the world I had no time for small talk or games, For romance or tenderness, friendship or love, Just political more-of-the-sames. And i'd spare you all that from the depths of my soul, Causes, justice, conspiracies, who's in control. Let the whole world stay broken as long as you're whole -- But now you're out saving the world.
Received lots of comments & props
70
6,338  
Wynn Schaible - Vocal/ guitar/ mandolin/ pennywhistle/ accordion
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
♫*´¨`*•.¸¸.♫ Caro Dio ♫*´¨`*•.¸¸.♫ In which I help Monica Bergo deliver a special message! Lyrics: Dear God It's a bit I do not write to you, And I know you know why I was lost in 1000 doubts and darkness inside me But dear God It's so sad to go on without you And do not feel your arms lifting my weight And as the sky does with the sea I can never meet you While you know where I am In no man's land If you have not abandoned me Give me a sign of presence In my desolate limbo I can not stand your absence And I look no more me in the mirror Because I see in the reflection A woman too lonely And a scream dies in my throat I'm tired of waiting What can not happen Your omnipotent verb More is not enough for my mind Sleeping little girl But without dreaming That the black man could come back You sleep but close one eye only You have no one sleeping at your side Tears sleeps in your eyes And the bells with their chinches A glow of light explodes in the sky You are still awake and you can not find peace Dear God In this letter I will never send you I have told you my world a few lines And you know it Who I’m always that little girl Who invented the prayers That in the dark of night she could never sleep Where were you, in those days? You let it happen You left my light In nothing it turned off I know you know my life And all I've done And how hard is the climb To fix what it was Between high and low, repentance Swinging feelings I, between tears and wounds I always look for your light And it is a shining light It fills me and confuses me My letter disappears And I am surprised by the heat Who can give a prayer A bit strange, a little invented I, that of music and words I have filled my life Dear God while I write to you I try love and freedom Anger leaves its place for serenity Do I still love you and you?
Received lots of comments & props
63
5,003  
Wynn Schaible - Guitars/ bass/ recorder
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
SECOND MARRIAGE OPERA FANDA is pleased to announce our upcoming production, featuring our unduplicable diva Monica Bergo in not one but two roles, and presenting the return of the Phantom Recorder Consort! A mélange (in both Webster’s and Herbert’s sense) of Baroque instrumentation, Jazz rhythms, and Celtic melody lines, topped off with a hearty helping of Synthesizers! LYRICS: Dame Solitude’s a proper wife, Severe in high-necked modesty. Yet knows to infuse grace into life, Nor swiftly sheds her veils of mystery. Not even for her wedded husband. Her little sister Melancholy, A ravening slut, a shameless whore. She drives her men past all folly, With one demand: and that demand is, More. Sucks life from lips and loins and soul Into her naked emptiness, as if to make one whole. And mostly wants her sister’s man, Not since he is so good, or better than, But because he is her sister’s. SOLITUDE: He is mine, I had him first. MELANCHOLY He is mine, I want him worst. S: You will kill him, this is true. M: It’s just a slower death with you. TUTTI: At stake one soul, And dice will roll Before the whole is sung. S: It’s his to choose M: It’s yours to lose T: And now the ruse is sprung. Dame Solitude, if you and I must wed, I’m wise enough to know your charms. I bring you to my marriage bed, Pray keep me from your sister’s arms.
Received lots of comments & props
68
6,291  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
City of the Setting Sun The fiftieth anniversary of the “Summer of Love” is upon us, but unlike many who have released musical commemorations of the event – I WAS THERE. And wrote this song in ’68 about the experience. Monica Bergo adds background vocals, and I the bass and handdrums I’d always wished could have been part of the original gig, to a real-to-reel of a live performance in ’73. Debbie Ansell, now as then, on second guitar. No one filmed the original performance (what a logistical nightmare THAT would have been), so you’ll pardon the “reunion concert” look of the video. After all, we all look somewhat different than we did in ’67 or ’73. (especially Monica!) LYRICS: ‘Twas in the summer of last year I got the feelin’ that I had to run And so I took the highway west To the city of the setting sun. For I had heard of people there, Help you bind your soul if you had wounds to mend. A city fair to take for home, Take for lover and for friend. I got my pack and took the road, Three thousand miles and in a week and a day I took that city for my own And found things were not as they say. The sunset city does not care, Its beauty will not kiss nor ease your pain. The bay fog hid your comin’ here And’ll hide your goin’ home again. But if you’ve only got your mind That you’d like to plant in good earth, like some tree, You’ll find it rooted in the stones And given water from the sea. ‘Twas in the summer of last year, I got the feelin’ that I had to run And so I took the highway west To the city of the setting sun.
Received lots of comments & props
88
5,848  
Wynn Schaible - Guitar/ bass/ drums
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Sneaky Snarky Snake A collaboration of a different sort here, with my granddaughter Victoria helping out on backing vocals and contributing her free-verse poetry. It’s a stripped-down slice of contemporaneity owing its stylistic inspiration to funk, salsa, and hip-hop – no prog-rock medieval costume epic here! Il faut être absolument moderne, in the words of the punk kid as responsible as any one person for the direction of modern lyricism. Plus it felt great to open the throttle on my new Yamaha percussion box. And I warn ya, peeps – this puppy ain’t CLOSE to the redline yet! Enjoy! LYRICS: Look out for the sneaky snarky Snake, You've got to be alert, you've got to stay awake, Letting your guard down would be a great mistake. Look out for the sneaky snarky Snake. He is without a doubt the worst friend you could make, He will expropriate anything he can take, He'll lie and lie and lie then tell you you're the fake. Look out for the sneaky snarky Snake. Let the little Gecko be harmless in your eyes, (He is no friend of us) Honor the Tortoise, he's slow but he is wise. (He’s much too venomous) Remember times when Pterodactyls ruled the skies. But if you're friends with him you've won the booby prize! (He’s deadly, just one drop) Look out for the sneaky snarky Snake. His bite will cause the strongest men to shake. He'll try and try, your mental health to break. Look out for the sneaky snarky Snake. The lizard is a wizard in disguise, (But you’re an evil viper) Chameleons change, but only to catch flies. (Worse than what’s in a diaper) The desert whiptail dispenses with the guys, But if you trust him you’re in for a rude surprise (So please just go away) Look out for the sneaky snarky Snake, He’s got a thirst for blood that he can’t slake. Best meet him with a mallet and a wooden stake! Look out for the sneaky snarky Snake! *************** Pain and agony washing away the colors of love Your ego killing what we once had Stabbing it in the back like you did your best friend And ditching him on the side of the road Like you didn’t care. ‘Cause you didn’t care. Your heart can’t and never will feel that deeply When true love is in the air you stop breathing You refuse to be or feel love And then complain that you’re lonely You had me You used me And pushed me away.
Received lots of comments & props
99
6,040  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
♫*´¨`*•.¸¸.♫Come un fiore (Faust, le polveri e gli intrugli) ♫*´¨`*•.¸¸.♫ I am honored to be singing and playing the supporting role in this latest by the wonderful Monica Bergo! Yes, we are waxing operatic of late – it’s more fun than waxing the kitchen floor (Boo! Hiss!) but this one is rather different, a very contemporary situation in modern dress! Though Dante and the saints of old would still have no trouble recognizing the Devil when they saw him. I seek peace, I want to light… Is one of those days that the silence takes away that last smile and dies in throat happiness The old desires resurface here and there and move the dish intact the food don't takes me away hunger I would to be a flower needs has never the sun heats the wind then lull it the rain mixes with my tears that goes my steps echo in the nothing of city and while I walked in to the melancholy with only my sad thoughts to keep me company with the mind's eye I had seen him already beautiful in appearance, but in the heart the ice he has "It 's so much waiting for you but I have eternity it's true ,to have you tried and you're back here, you good acrobat, actress without identity it is useless to run away, it is written in the DNA. Do not you remember? but that good days powders and concoctions that filled your eternal empty watched yourself now always the same love, affection is a life that you are looking for Surrender and you'll see .... here with me, no one in the world, will can hurt you or harm you will do damnation, pure invention and heaven will remain empty But do not you realize? you're out of time and out of place in this society if you disappear at this instant of your essence, what will be left? " Do-sol do-sol energy becomes infinite Re- la Re- la and from the heart goes to the fingers MI- si mi- si search keys, caresses them and finally there is sweetness also for me Do-sol do-sol so tired of being alone re-la re-la fly music and consoles mi-si mi-si remove also this love too and as a flower without treatment, I wither "Stay with me" "I want to light" "Stay with me" "I look for peace like a flower that does not give answers here with you there is no peace here with you without light like a flower without the sun I will die Sweetest moment when I open my eyes there is that moment of unconsciousness and do not know who you are I Compose and decompose my true identity by woman responsible in accordance to my age. I do not want to be a flower defend himself does not know the hand that grasps then death will give The old desires sleep for eternity powders and concoctions was a lifetime ago This is my time no regrets sun inside the heart much rain to forget he feels next (he is with me) at all times (he's light) always by my side laugh, pray, love .... a flower does not do it .... Do-sol Re-la Mi-si like a flower in your love I not wilt ... Monica Bergo Video divulgativo, non per lucro Broadcoast video, not for profit
Received lots of comments & props
106
5,069  
Wynn Schaible - Voice/ saxes/ bass/ drums
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
A Tale from the Waste Land In which Monica Bergo and I (alias the Gypsy Players) add our own bit to the continuing legend of the Grail. An old knight rode out Though he should have known better What he was about And events that could fetter. The dragons, objects for his skill, Were of another day, The evil knight had fled his hill, No giants left to slay. The dame whose wrongs he would redress Knocked all the legends clear. She chose, said she, her own distress, Nor would play Guinevere. He strove for the right, He fought with his might, In a world full of shadows, he sought for the light. He fought as one fresh, He did all he could, But a man is but flesh, and a lance is but wood. CHORUS: Only what's lost can be properly prized, The lame are the last who can be paralyzed, Only survivors can't be surprised, Only the wounded are immunized. You've taken the light I gave you To a corner I will not follow (Don't go there!) You've tried your best to deprive me Of such hope as I have for the morrow, (Shame!) But if I stand all alone, it's a gift I will own And he who died for us in pain will accept from my hand. (God help us!) Am I dead? (No!) Am I mad? (No!) Am I shunned? (No!) Am I bad? (Never!) When I'm tried once again like pure gold I'll come forth to my land! (Aroint thee, spirit) CHORUS:
Received lots of comments & props
76
7,582  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Tango d`Amor My latest collaboration with the very talented Melani Cholie! This is her song; her piano and female vocals, everything else you hear is me. As the saying goes, it takes two to tango! Enjoy!
Received lots of comments & props
103
6,220  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Everything But Here My latest, ably assisted by the one and only Monica Bergo! And if you weren't ready for me singing Italian last time hold onto your hats, because you're about to hear la bella Monica in English! A hard-driving number I will not attempt to genre-characterize. We hope you like it! My literary Lady’s grown Past all the tropes we knew so well. Her Rima’s lost the green unknown, Her Beatrice has walked through Hell. Now with soul almost Hellenically bare On the Rio beach of our modern schema , She moves as far beyond my reach As the fabled girl from Ipanema. And she’s everything the critics and the publishers fear, And she’s everything but here. And she’s everything, I don’t know how to make it more clear. ‘Cause she’s everything but here. My musical enchantress tried To catch the ear of a culture gone berserk. Her tear-stained lyrics show she cried Because she found it didn’t work. Have the waves closed overhead, Have we passed the gate of Dante’s vision? Is the Totentanz our modern waltz? To sing for life was her decision. And she’s everything the TV and the radio fear, And she’s everything but here. Yeah she’s everything, I hope she has a brilliant career. ‘Cause she’s everything but here. I remember much I should forget, (Remember to forget) Have forgotten much I should remember. (What did you forget this time?) That August’s face, still green as yet, (Oh, the warm sunshine!) Will look askance at bare November. (Brrrr! So cold!) That hearts will go just as they please, (The heart has reasons) Past good and evil, kind and cruel. (Of which the reason knows nothing) That poet, dreamer, lover: these (All three of them!) Are just three synonyms (Three synonyms) For fool! ‘Cause I need her more than any human being can bear, And I’m everyplace but there. Do you think she knows? I wouldn’t want to give her a scare. ‘Cause I’m everyplace but there.
Received lots of comments & props
115
7,711  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
♫*´¨`*•.¸¸.♫ Un desiderio per Natale (A wish for Christmas) ♫*´¨`*•.¸¸.♫ A very best Christmas wish from Monica Bergo and me! Good morning! my new composition in collaboration with Wynn Schaible, hope you like!! Music, lyrics Monica Bergo Orchestration, Genie voice Wynn Schaible A wish for Christmas Who does not have it? But here every year is always the same Will not come true It is a simple thing (for me) Nothing impossible (no price) I look at the showcases but there is nothing for me To whom could I ask, I do not know I mix a little 'fairy tales, I'll make it Christmas Carol and Aladdin And I will have my Christmas genius It takes a puff of wind A pinch of regret Few flakes of snow, scattered here and there And the Sahara sand A grain of anger The magic of the nights of Ali Baba Comes from the dust, it is here Sparkling lamp, who goes out special effect and then Abracadabra ... ..is Santa Claus…. I did a little 'confusing I was wrong potion I'll change direction try again the wings of a fairy the glint of frost some cry of witch I will mix And will come Christmas and also for me It will be a special day And will come Christmas And here's my dream come true "You know the rules: 3 wishes, but you can not use one to have my powers. I can not interfere with the love and its dramas, I can not turn back your years And I can not kill, nor steal, and this lamp I would escape Only my master can free They never do, not even you will want " how I would fill my eyes of light and the heart of love I lost, while alive suspended in this air the waiting drops a tear, the inexplicable sadness the ghosts that appear and I do not know what to say, I can not explain what's up Abracadabra I wish that This my mind continues to fly And the little girl inside of me Live forever and do not want to disappear even But that obnoxious my genius It's already gone And I missed a wish About reimburse me? It is a simple thing (for me) Nothing impossible (no price) I want that in my life Everything remains as it is With all the imperfections misjudgments And the wrong choices at a young age I look back and I get All a bit 'to be remade I look ahead and I appreciate what I have And will come Christmas But so much for me Every day is special And will come Christmas After the wait is not so bad Abracadabra I wish that This my life remains as it !! Genius! Look, there was a misunderstanding ... actually the first two wishes ... they were together, it was ... just one! So, doing the math ... it still lacks one !! Genius, I want you to be free! We can imprison in lamp Santa Claus ? No eh? ... ok ok forget it ... Monica Bergo
Received lots of comments & props
78
6,295  
Wynn Schaible - Bass/ percussion/ genie voice
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Heine's "Wir Haben Viel" I am pleased to present another collaboration with the very talented Melani Cholie! Heine was a German Romantic poet who died in exile in France, an outsider among outsiders, a gentle heart who played the mocker – devilishly well – because he knew it hurt too much to cry. I first made his acquaintance in the priced-to-get-‘em-outa-here rack of an old book store, the kind of browser’s heaven that the internet has, without meaning to, virtually eliminated, and I’ve loved this poem ever since I first read it. I also present here for the first time the Phantom Blockflötekonzort, featuring Ich, Mich, Mir, Mein, & Selber! Wir haben viel für einander gefielt, Und dennoch uns gar vortrefflich vertragen. Wir haben oft ‘Mann und Frau’ gespielt, Und dennoch uns nimmer gerauft und geschlagen. Wir haben zusammen gejauchzt und gescherzt, Und zärtlich uns geküsst und gehertzt. Wir haben am Ende, aus kindischer Lust, ‘Verstecken’ gespielt in Wäldern und Gründen, Und haben uns so zu vestecken gewusst Dass wir uns nimmermehr wiederfinden. We felt a great deal for each other And yet we got along most excellently. We often played ‘Man and Wife’ And yet we never argued or fought. Together we rejoiced, and joked, And tenderly hugged and kissed. In the end, in childish high spirits, We played ‘Hide and Seek’ in the woods and fields. And we knew so much about hiding That we never found each other again.
Received lots of comments & props
81
6,672  
Wynn Schaible - Recorders/ guitar/ piano
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
The Legend of the Black Butterfly (La Leggenda della Nera Farfalla) I'm laying down rhythm tracks here for the incomparable Monica Bergo! They say if a black butterfly comes to lands on you You'll have the memory of past lives dormant memories, Resurface in you While I was wandering alone one evening Lost in my Thought Beating of wings, a black soul It rests and takes me with her .......... Endless space, the moon shines and a vast sky that makes me as a cradle I am a minstrel of many colors That lives on music, without thoughts The black butterfly is always with me By day it is a tattoo, at night a mirage Together, in harmony and freedom We live to love, not grow old The moon by night inspires me words That take shape in the sunlight We turn happy for the courts and castles We dance and we play, we are minstrels But then here he looks at me dancing And he that my heart wants to own But I'm not always that anyone I turn around and disappear, in the roar of thunder Legend that ancient know Give me the freedom that I have never had Flight with you, you take me At the time to which I belong and I've never seen Changing shape, changing essence Is metamorphoses but only in appearance I will keep my soul Flutter, this time takes away While in the sky exploding thunder I wake up and suddenly I am in chains And as if I had always known I understand that my world is over A mighty man is not to be refused And without trial they have already condemned me “Burns the witch and that her tattoo The devil has left his mark in the arm” But here in the sky, are 1000 butterflies They wrap-up, Dear sisters People screaming and looks scared then Abracadabra and the witch is gone Butterfly go, talk about me And bring light and peace to those who are blind Diversity, do fear Only to those want to love not has Legend know, eternity It is given only to those who leave something My fantasy, poetry Not even the fire can ever wipe out They say if a black butterfly, comes to rest on you the soul of a lost person, in life comes back to you As a child rests,quiet, born only an hour ago Circling the black butterfly slow And history will repeat itself ...... Monica Bergo Video divulgativo, non a scopo di lucro Broadcast video, not for profit
Received lots of comments & props
53
6,251  
Wynn Schaible - Bass & percussion
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Buying Into It This is my comment on what’s going on, even though I don’t believe in mixing politics and music. Political (and “social”) considerations have a nasty habit of cutting you off from people of basically similar musical outlook and taste and uniting you with folk you’d hesitate to sit next to on a bus. But sometimes…and I tell myself in extenuation, how many of us, after all, do occasionally break our self-imposed rules (though how few of us, especially in re Veneris, haven’t regretted it afterwards, is another story). This is the product of five minutes’ inspiration, an interruption of another project, and finished in the heat of passion in what for me, Don Quixote astride a Galapagos tortoise, is lightning speed. I acknowledge my debt to Yes here, although my voice does not now, and even in my hit-those-Brothers-Gibb-notes younger days never did, sound anything like Ian Anderson. I’ve kept the video images basic: the flag displayed upside down is a universal American sign of distress. Many other images suggested themselves, but I’ve forborn. Some whose music I greatly respect have done otherwise, but for me it’s usually a distraction, as I think, with varying degrees of outrage, “How dare you put in this but leave out that.” But I make an exception for my sketches of the “band.” Hey, you can’t be serious all the time. Well you can, but it’s not good for your health, mental or physical. LYRICS: They tell the same old story. A vote for me is like a magic wish on a star. Choose the freebies or go for the glory, Who’s gonna liberate you from the mess that you are? You’re buying into it, Hook line and sinker and I can’t believe you believe. I’m getting sick of it, If there was somewhere I could go I think that I’d leave. The TV’s whores and liars, The radio is just the latest outrage du jour. There’s people starting fires, If someone asked me they would get one hell of a tour! You’re buying into it, Holding your nose and saying what the hell can I do? Where is an end to it? And I don’t have the glimmer of an answer for you.
Received lots of comments & props
90
7,222  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Rimbaud’s “O Saisons, O Châteaux.” A tribute 50 years in the making, to a man who ended his literary career at an age when most have barely begun theirs! Some explanation is in order. Two months ago one of my Fanda friends, the almost criminally underappreciated keyboard-and-synthesist Eric Rosso (http://fandalism.com/infrared13) of Marseilles, posted a setting of a piece by the Symbolist poet Guillaume Apollinaire. My response was to the effect that these guys were in a sense lyricists manqué, condemned to wait until the musical-instrument technology caught up with them, and wondering what might be done with Rimbaud, one of my (and Jim Morrison’s!) favorite French poets – at least when I was a younger man. (Morrison, alas, never got to revise his preferences with age). Two days later there it was, a setting of Rimbaud’s Ophélie, complete with a dedication to me! Such a gift deserves one in return; but, like Socrates, “I am old and move slowly.” And anyway, I was in the middle of another project. But now – en voilá! Pour toi, Eric, et tous mes amis (et amies!) francophones! And a word to purists. There are two different versions of this poem – and editions of those versions – and I have exercised the composer’s immemorial right to tweak the work of my librettist. This re-encounter with Rimbaud has brought back to my consciousness all that was right – and wrong – with the late 60s, including my own personal responsibility for those acts and attitudes, however minor or unwitting, which have helped lead to our present world gone so awry. Or not awry at all? Damned by a rainbow of a different sort! Enough. Je dois me taire. Écoutez, s’il vous plait! O Saisons, ô châteaux, Quelle ame et sans défauts! J’ai fait la magique étude Du Bonheur, qu’aucun n’élude. Salut à lui chaque fois Que chante le coq gaulois. Ah! Je n’aurai plus d’envie: Il s’est chargé de ma vie. Ce charme a pris âme et corps Et dispersa tous efforts. O saisons, ô chateaux! L’heure de la fuite, hélas! Sera l’heure du trépas. O saisons, ô chateaux!
Received lots of comments & props
83
8,533  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Me & My Guitar Ah, Rio! Birthplace of the Bossa Nova, home of wonderful music and überbeautiful women – also double-digit unemployment, street riots, a murder rate rivalling Chicago’s, and slums where the police dare not go – not to mention Zika. Let the games begin! None of which should affect this piece, a purely domestic product (though recorded – hey, it’s the twentyfirst century -- with foreign made instruments) of my fertile (that’s pr-talk for slightly crazy) brain. A good friend has been urging me to record it ever since I started doing this stuff, so –Yo Gus! Lyrics: Know that my guitar can speak for me, Show you anything you want to see. My guitar is always on my guard, Lets you drop into my heart but not too hard. Helps me when I don’t know what to say, Plays the happy songs I choose, Or sings the blues if things turn out that way. And if the circle’s closing in, Or when my rainbow seems as black as sin, My guitar takes me away. When I have my times of doubt and fear, Know that my guitar is always here. When I can’t explain my point of view My guitar will make it plain to you. Will you, o dear lady, come with me? All that we have been so far Is only part of what we both could be. I see you shake your pretty head, You can’t quite understand the words I said, But my guitar will make you see. This is just a workingman’s guitar, It’s played for you in every single bar. Makes you feel good right down to your soul, Keeps me fed and off the welfare roll. Seen me through the fat times and the lean. When I think of all the years And all the things and people that I’ve seen, It’s been going on too long I can’t quite say it in a little song, But my guitar knows what I mean.
68
6,255  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
My first collaboration, with the very talented Melani Cholie! She wrote the lyrics, sings, and made the video. Instruments and arrangements are by me. This is based on the Kenny Dorham standard "Blue Bossa." So from both of us -- enjoy! Mañana será mi día Estoy feliz de que salga el sol La buena vida, la vida loca Disfruta de la vida con la guitarra acústica La primavera está aquí La noche estrellada ha pasado La buena vida, (la dolce vita), la vida loca Disfruta de la vida con la guitarra acústica La primavera está aquí La luna se pone, un nuevo día Estrellas reflejadas en el agua Y yo canto mis canciones Hoy es mi día, lo siento El sol calienta, me hace feliz (soy feliz) La buena vida, (la dolce vita), la vida loca Disfruta de la vida con la guitarra acústica La primavera está aquí La luna se pone, un nuevo día Estrellas reflejadas en el agua Y yo canto mis canciones
Received lots of comments & props
109
6,261  
Wynn Schaible - Saxes/ guitar/ bass/ keys
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
New Horizons One of the few good things for me last year was the successful New Horizons mission to Pluto. I make no apologies, I’ve been a spacehead since I learned to read -- and much else -- from my father’s cast-off science fiction novels. I don’t want to get into the issue of Pluto’s demotion from full planethood, but certainly it’s a fascinating little worldlet no matter how you define it. And also a humbling reminder of the scale of our Universe: New Horizons is the fastest spacecraft ever flown, yet it’s taken nine and a half years – with a gravity assist from Jupiter! – to travel approximately four light hours. To the nearest star is four light years. The encounter, in consequence, was brief: a fleeting kiss and goodby. Already the swift little probe has traveled beyond Pluto more than twice the distance from the Earth to the Sun. But such was the speed of its data recorders – and the power limitations of sending that data so far back to Earth – that it will take till the end of 2016 before the task is complete. And the mission goes on. A new target has already been selected, an unassuming little 30-kilometer Kuiper Belt Object with the prosaic name of 2014 MU69. Estimated time of arrival: New Year’s Day, 2019. The music is composed and played by me, and dedicated to the mission and the men and women whose intelligence, dedication, and hard work made it possible. With perhaps more than a nod to one of my hometown Philadelphia’s stranger musical residents, Sun Ra.
Received lots of comments & props
87
7,668  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Ashokan Farewell Although it sounds ancient, this tune is actually modern, written by Jay Unger in 1982 for the end of a fiddle and dance festival in the Catskills of upper New York state. But it will probably always be identified with the Civil War, due to Ken Burns’ extensive use of it in his masterful documentary. This is my own interpretation, for Irish whistles, tenor recorder, and what’s becoming my usual folkie/Celtic instrumentarium. I’ve refrained, however, from illustrating it with a Civil War slideshow: not from any concern for the phony offendedness of pc Stalinists seeking to devalue a banner under which so many brave men fought and died (and I say that as a descendant of those Germans whose “ethnic vote” put Lincoln over the top in 1860) but rather from a disinclination to invite comparisons in which I must inevitably come in second. But certainly the song throbs with loss, not just personal but for a whole culture or lifeway, so I’ve chosen to memorialize two enterprises from a time when my hometown Philadelphia was a great industrial center. The Baldwin Locomotive Works was one of the premier locomotive builders in the country; the Budd Company a pioneer in the use of stainless steel, which they used to make car bodies for Detroit but also railcars, including the Frankford El trains I rode so often as a boy. Both were done in by changing economic and technological conditions (the one in the 50s, the other the 70s). Now a functioning economy, like an ecology, is very good at recycling its dead: Baldwin moved its plant to the suburbs in the 30s and its massive footprint in the city has long since been filled in. If you go to the plant site in Eddystone, you will see a modest 30s-style office building (the former company headquarters), and, beyond a line of trees, suburban housing developments. Only old photos of the “heroic age” on the walls of that building remain to say what was once here. But in our cities, to a great degree, the economy has ceased to function: and Budd’s plant in North Philadelphia stands vacant and decaying, unutterably sad. It’s easy, too easy, to mourn the past; but the passing of these great concerns tore a great hole in the life of the city, and it has never really been filled. The whistles I play on this piece are made by a fine little company called Shearwater Whistles. If you want to check them out go here: http://www.shearwaterwhistles.com/
Received lots of comments & props
111
7,941  
Wynn Schaible - All the instruments
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
We Three Kings Just a simple piano trio rendition of an old favorite. Pictures by some of the greats and nearly-greats of Western art. But wise men, as the old saying goes, still seek Him.
Received lots of comments & props
82
6,357  
Wynn Schaible - Piano and bass
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Greensleeves (What Child is This?) This is one of the oldest songs in English: it was mentioned, and sung, in one of Shakespeare’s plays. Then it was a ballad of frustrated courtly (no, not Courtney) love: (“Alas my love, you do me wrong to cast me off discourteously”) Sometime around 1830 the carol verses were put to it (“What child is this, who, laid to rest on Mary’s lap is sleeping?”) and so it entered the pantheon of Christmas music. Arrangements are of course innumerable. My own started as a period piece for harpsichord, classical guitar and recorders, but somewhere along the line morphed into a project to include every instrument I play. In that (if nothing else) it has been successful. So without further ado (or even a don’t) I introduce the Gopher Baroque Ensemble, featuring me, me, me, me, me and me!
Received lots of comments & props
77
7,119  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Livin' on the Moon This is another song that’s been bouncing around my head for a couple decades (though just recently recorded) but it’s got just as much relevance now as when I wrote it. Namely, none! “Tragedy tomorrow, comedy tonight!” Lyrics: Livin’ on the Moon, livin’ on the Moon, Simply great my buddies, livin’ on the Moon. No-one to disturb us, you should come here soon, You’ll never want to go back after livin’ on the Moon. We have a geodesic dome underneath the stars, We made it out of chewing gum and old abandoned cars. We sweep out all the moondust every morning with a broom, It’s the only chore we have all month from livin’ on the Moon. And we’re livin’ on the Moon… We have a little rocket ship, it is really quaint, Customized with window decals and psychedelic paint. The air conditionin’ ain’t so hot, you either boil or freeze, But we don’t have no emissions test or high insurance fees. And we’re livin’ on the Moon… My woman’s up here with me, she begs me tell you this, That one sixth earthly gravity is great for wedded bliss. We rewrote the Kama Sutra, but I’ve got to be real strong, ‘Cause it takes a man to go all night when the nights are 2 weeks long We’ve got no hostage takers, we’ve got no traffic jams, No STDs, no third degrees, no Wall Street bailout scams. We’ve got no air pollution, in fact, we got no air. I got a cellarfull of scuba tanks, so ask me if I care! And we’re livin’ on the Moon… Now when I’ve got a job to do they don’t pay union scale, But the IRS can’t send me bills, and I don’t get no junk mail. And anyhow isolation’s just a matter of degree. I turned a crater into a satellite dish ‘cause I need my MTV! And we’re livin on the Moon… So catch the nearest spaceship and start livin' on the Moon!
Received lots of comments & props
82
6,619  
Wynn Schaible - Guitar/ vocals/ autoharp/ mandolin/ pennywhistle
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
I Had That Dream Once More This my latest effort is more Rock than my wont; but parts of this song have been hanging around for years – one as long as 30 – while it stubbornly refused all my attempts to complete the lyrics and insisted on arrangements I could not provide. But now at last everything has come together: the ghosts can go back to wherever ghosts come from and the angels can take out their earplugs! And thanks to Rick Penny for the loan of his B9 pedal! Lyrics: I had that dream once more. I had to write this song. ‘Cause music salves the sore And helps to right the wrong, But now my heart is down, Although my sprit’s free. I pause and look around And see what’s left to me: Two eyes that can’t not see, Tongue silence cannot claim, Pen like a gun to me, I take my deadly aim; A soldier in the night, Too brave for bombs to scare, Still running to the fight On legs that aren’t there, A bird with broken wings’ Unconquered need to fly. Oh, dreams are deadly things When they refuse to die. *********** I sailed to come to you Across the universe. You thrust me from your view, Can life be so perverse? There alien stars abound, Perhaps they saw me cry. The moon was upside down. We never asked us why. Go on your way, my dear, (on your way) I wish you joy not pain (schöner Götterfunken) And you need never fear (never fear) I’ll use those words again. (nevermore) ************ Or I could sail upon The Titan voyager, A methane mermaid waits, And I could go to her, My touch would melt her flesh, She’d freeze me to the bone, But then we just might last When you and I are gone. A metaphor ago, A simile away, A metamorphosis With nothing more to say
Received lots of comments & props
88
7,848  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Innamorata This celebration of Love features my saxes, which in the space of a month have led me from knight-errantry to lounge-lizardry! Happiness to all!
Received lots of comments & props
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7,669  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Don Quixote at the Disco The Don is definitely at the disco, but there’s more than a trace of jazz and salsa here as well. What, you were expecting comfortably-within-the-box music from a project in which Señor Quixano and der verrückte Ähni were involved? A special shoutout to Dino and Shaiya, masters of this genre. And also one for Gustave Doré, master of his. Enjoy! Lyrics: I am Don Quixote de la Mancha protector of the powerless, scourge of giants, restorer of the Golden Age! Like Don Quixote armed all cap-a-pie I’m off to slay a giant, fum fo fie Even though he’s just a part of my Imagination Now I’ve left him dead and bleeding far behind Among the windmills of my mind. Sancho, don’t you think I should get some kind Of ovation I will fight for right and justice for the small. I could save the princess at a call, While Sancho clowned around distracting all Those bumblers I’d come to the ball from very far, Whisk her out the back like Lochinvar, But though I’m swift they’d track us down, by gar, With social security numbers The profession of arms, Disenchanting of charms, And prevention of harms to the lady Of my so strangely unrequited affection, But she rules many hearts, Loves the dark arts, Ask me please turn my chivalric parts In a different knight-errantly direction El Caballero de la figura dolorosa Il cabalga sólo, sin quierida o esposa. El Viejo loco, de la canción ridiculosa, Ya no le importa, si ella es fea o hermosa
Received lots of comments & props
52
8,319  
Wynn Schaible - Synth/ saxes/ vocals/ whatever
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
“Dance at the Illusion Ballroom” Welcome, dear listeners, to my latest musical effort. Your intrepid explorer continues to voyage poorly charted waters and discover new lands. Or the old coot is starting to lose it. Perhaps both. THANKS to babbazit, who gave me the idea to use .gifs (though I made or modified my own). NO THANKS to Microsoft, who eliminated the ability to use them as animations from post-XP iterations of WMM. THANKS ALSO to a guy on Facebook who posted a black-and-white version of one. I don’t mention his name because I can’t find his post again (how unusual!) MONICA – you will recognize the source of one of them. EVERYBODY ELSE – enjoy!
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8,476  
Wynn Schaible - Synthesizer
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Modal Fantasy on B*A*C*H .In the old (pre equal temperament) German note-naming system, Bb was “B.” B natural, needing its own designation, became “H.” Whatever the whys or wisdom of this arrangement, it allowed organist-composers (most famously Liszt, but there were others) to construct homages to Johann Sebastian over the ground bass B-A-C-H. But it’s been a long time and the mode of the music has changed (and as Plato predicted, the walls of the City are shaking), and the sounds available to us have expanded enormously; so it seems time for another go at it. In many respects, I’m not the man for the job: I don’t know half the theory I’d like and my classical chops (such as they ever were) have deteriorated. But do what you can with what you have, where you are, is my motto – so without further ado (or even a don’t), here ‘tis. May it please! And if not “forse altri cantrerá con miglior plettro.”
Received lots of comments & props
82
8,427  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Tir na nOg is the “land of youth” in the Gaelic mythology. This my latest song is inspired by – and dedicated to – a fair amount of Fandafolk (and we know who we are!) But as my father used to say, “Better over the hill than under it!” lyrics: Nobody ever flipped a switch Rubbed on some salve that cured my itch Or quenched the spirit which Put down all fears. But in the morning’s calm surmise I see myself through others’ eyes. I’ve got to recognize I’ve got some years. I do not fear the angel, though I’m in no haste to go, The ladies look right past me, time moves too fast – or slow And where this song is going next is something we all know – ‘Cause it’s gettin’ old. The old men wail on their guitars, Stage-worthy licks in corner bars, The dream survives, though age debars – Rock on! With still increasing skill and might They jam, inspired, half the night But the calendar won’t make it right. Begone! I don’t want to accuse my fate, to rail or throw a stone God sent some shining moments, the screw-ups were my own And anyway this life of ours is only ours on loan As we’ve been told. Oh the shining land of Tir na nOg’s a wondrous place to play But there’s just a short allotted time that you’re allowed to stay And when you’re finally mustered out there is a price to pay Ya da da da I will not listen to sad songs that say my race is run, I’ve had my share of tryin’ cryin’ winnin’ and havin’ fun. And havin’ only mem’ries beats the Hell out of havin’ none, I ain’t ready to fold!
Received lots of comments & props
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8,036  
Wynn Schaible - Guitar/ vocals/ autoharp/ bass/ pennywhistle/ percussion
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Why I Do -- Back in 1975, I embarked – on a friend’s 4-track – on a demo project, basically me overd... read moreubbed and some guest artists, that I called the “Oklahoma Credit Card.” Well, now it’s the fortieth anniversary (!!!!!) and I guess it’s about time some of this saw the light of day. Here’s one of the more successful tracks – a happy love song for once! – me on everything but the mellotron. Enjoy! lyrics: Know I've tried to tell you just the way I feel, but I'm afraid you'd fly away, so I keep my love concealed. I don't know why I love you like I do. Come around and see you on the weekends if I may, that's all right, you make me feel all right, but I'd like to see you every day. I don't know why I love you like I do. You work early in the morning, and the road's got claims on me, but stay and laugh awhile, I love to see you smile, we take ourselves for what we have to be. I know just why I need you like I do.
Received lots of comments & props
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8,403  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Heimatvertriebene (those driven out of their homeland) My title has a very specific connotation in German (and no real English equivalent), but I'm using it in the wider sense for what is an all too human tragedy, whether collective or individual, by state power, ethnic/religious intimidation, eminent domain or economic necessity.
Received lots of comments & props
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8,170  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Monkey Man
Received lots of comments & props
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8,170  
Wynn Schaible - Songwriter
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
A melody Hebrew in origin but Brazilian in treatment. This is your tune, Leah, wherever and whoever you may now be...arrangement and instrumentation are mine. The visuals can be conceived as a rough progression from my city to my home, some projects, and through the gates of dream.
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7,961  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
And now for something completely different, I let out my inner Hanswurst for the holidays. An old German Christmas song, all instruments played by me. Imagine 4 of me (would the world survive?) as strolling players, which of course neither there nor here any longer happens. Imagine a new song about the beauty of snow, which neither here nor there has happened since most people started driving to work. Finally, imagine Christmas still full of its inner meaning and beauty -- which can still happen, if we let it. Fröhliche Weihnacht to all, and especially my distant cousins in der alten Heimat.
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7,682  
Wynn Schaible - Guitar/ mandolin/ recorder & autoharp
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
My Christmas gift to the World! All instruments, voices and arrangement by me. Art is from Albrecht Dürer, Gustave Doré, William Blake, Henry O. Tanner, the Book of Kells, and some of my old Christmas cards. The very best to all!
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7,951  
Wynn Schaible - All the instruments
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Some photos from a recent visit to Tasmania. I wrote the song (actually, it's more of a gift from whatever Celtic muse may preside in a land to which so many Irishmen were transported) and played all the instruments myself. Tas is in some respects like America 30 or 40 years ago. You get off the plane on one of those moveable staircases and walk across the tarmac. Even the smallest corner deli or country store has locally baked bread -- real stuff, not factory flannel! Half an hour out of the capital Hobart you are in rural country. It's a place where the meteorologists do their best and the weather says, Oh yeah? As Australians put it, "four seasons in a day." But afterwards, in open country, the rainbows can come in positively Irish profusion. And on a cloudless night in Hobart (rare) the stars and Milky Way blaze forth like you were a thousand miles from civilization. It's Australia's poorest State, a beautiful stage on which dark deeds have happened, a land of seeming promise that one way or another breaks nearly all of them. And I love it anyway. But I will never complain about American gas prices again! lyrics: Goodbye my Tassie darling, goodbye my broken dream. Goodbye my black-eyed Lorelei who was not as you seem. Port Arthur's chains were not so hard as your resolve to part. The snows on Cradle Mountain were warmer than your heart. The southern constellations look down from wondrous high, their names and forms unknown to me and they know no more than I. But when we stand before a throne in which you don't believe, I will deny these tears of mine are ones you made me grieve. Then He who came for love of us will pardon one last lie, and I will sleep till hearts do melt and all the seas run dry.
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7,397  
Wynn Schaible - Songwriter
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
This piece is created solely from sounds generated from within the sound-editing program Audacity. Not exactly what Audacity was set up to do, but...it's extremely versatile and highly recommended. All the fractals are mine. Anyone sensing a dig at a certain political Pinocchio should congratulate themselves on their non-pc perception and put their hand in their pocket, where they will find (if even there) the only change I can believe in.
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6,880  
Wynn Schaible - Electronic production
Video
Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
Name 
Wynn Schaible
Followers 240   
Views 325,016   
Props 34,800
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