TONIGHT I AM trying to find sounds / put together another alternative palette for games, bit more synthy, also to include percussion, and make some doodles using it]
in which there are actual chords, and a doodly line over the top.
TONIGHT I AM trying to find sounds / put together another alternative palette for games, bit more synthy, also to include percussion, and make some doodles using it]
in which there are actual chords, and a doodly line over the top.
[TONIGHT I AM trying to find sounds / put together another alternative palette for games, bit more synthy, also to include percussion, and make some doodles using it]
This one is really genuinely tuneless and more obviously just layering things on top of each other—I came up with the rhythm of the accompaniment as something that should be done and then tested out sounds and then… that’s it!
so this ended up longer and kinda chillout 😀
A piece I wrote a few years ago, for SSAA choir, which I was recently asked to re arrange it for SATB. But here just played by me on piano!
poem by Alice Meynell (1847 – 1922)
Something vaguely…. sad Kingdom Hearts piano style??
another small game music in the old style.
Trying a quick piece of ye olde game music:
Trying out some sounds I have lying around to make a little naive kinda real acoustic sounding thing…
Then on, my soul, with fearless faith Let nought to terror move thee
I kind of wrote six songs today and yesterday… enjoying in places the 70s-90s chorus mood…
— melodies & chords! To Christmas songs/hymn lyrics by Catherine Winkworth found at this website (one more from the other day is here).
Above is a brief taste of each:
Some might say that it’s January and time to stop writing Christmas songs. But, they would be wrong.
Another one done in the space before choir, live with piano (and recorded just on phone again I’m afraid) — words by, well, translated by, Catherine Winkworth, who lived really near where I live, fun fact.
A spotless Rose is blowing
Sprung from a tender root,
Of ancient seers’ foreshowing,
Of Jesse promised fruit;
Its fairest bud unfolds to light
Amid the cold, cold winter
And in the dark midnight.The Rose which I am singing,
Whereof Isaiah said,
Is from its sweet root springing
In Mary, purest Maid;
For through our God’s great love and might
The blessed babe she bare us
In a cold, cold winter’s night.