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ADIOS CUBA - Graveyard Poets
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Imagine and old woman, leaving her home...Cuba, on a small raft for America. When she gets there she walks out on to A1A. 'Where will I go from here?' she asks.
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Melody Driven, Strong, Heavy, Saccharine, Progressive.
I'm a singer/songwriter by trade and desire. I'm quite passionate about what I do with my time, and spend a great deal of it as an audio engineer and producer. Working with other, future-minded, artists is very important to me. Outside of that, I prefer machines to most people, and admonish the inefficient. Nerdy Gals, Electronic Technicians, and Twilter Freakers are of my favorite hominids...brains and independence are kewl!!! If you are a band or a songwriter, in need of vocals, please don't hesitate to contact me. I run a state of the art (Pro Tools) environment, and would be more than willing to lend my vocals to the right project. Simply send me the track; I will review it, and send it back with voice and lyrics attached. I'm also willing to relocate for the right experience. Just know that I am severe and seek only to be involved with souls, who take their art seriously, and have an open mind toward constructive criticism, and pursue success in the industry. It's all about the songs!!!
Song Info
Charts
Peak #185
Peak in subgenre #72
Author
BRIAN SCOTT, GRAVEYARD POETS
Rights
2004
Uploaded
October 01, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.4 MB 128 kbps 4:46
Story behind the song
I wrote Audios Cuba with Rob Bechtel (Novo Cult, Graveyard Poets, Hard2theLeft), for a band called the Graveyard Poets. This turned out to be quite an affair of world beat exotica and anthem melodies. The sextet was made up of Brian Scott, Trinity Hamilton, Rob Bechtel, Al Kumick, Eric Lancaster, and Mike Straight. To create the wave effect, I fried bacon and recorded it with a nice condenser mic. What sound like something rolling about the deck of a ship, was actually a recording of me rolling my chair around on a hard piece of plastic. The creaking mast was my x-wife washing dishes, slowed down, reversed, with a bunch of verb layered on top of it. The harp is an authentic 22 string cletic version that my friend Tamar Sparks made for me. Pretty kewl!
Lyrics
One word, freedom. niniety miles just to get back home. Two eyes skyline, baptized by blue water. Adios Cuba, Island of pain. O Havana...heavenly. Adios Cuba, Island of pain. New land embrace my remains. Three nights, foreign lights; follow the gulls to dry land. Four hours, storm and showers. Will she make it till mornin?' Adios Cuba, Island of pain. O Havana...heavenly. Adios Cuba, Island of pain. New land embrace my remains. (solo) Adios Cuba, Island of pain. O Havana...heavenly. Adios Cuba, Island of pain. New land embrace my remains. (repeat) Five lives, over the side, not much left to cling onto. Six am, kissing the sand, her tears abating the long road.
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