Misha/Rustyspoon insisted I get another singer to have a crack at this song.
Eventually Steve Smith volunteered to have a go and provided three main vocals, as well as harmony vocals.
Steve worked from Misha's melody and threw in a few ideas of his won re phrasing and such.
Misha's voice is rich with melange of exotic culture and personal expression and Steve's interpretation is more to do with his placement of words and pauses/emphasis.
It was an interesting contrast to mix.
THE TRACKS:
The BIAB component of this track are the drums (some EQing as usual) and flute (some odd note choices but that's life), it's heart of this is the as the rest was built from that, (there were other ReaTracks but I slowly replaced them).
Guitars are a Squire Mustang Bullet HH and Bruno Royal Artist through a compressor, GDI21 and spring reverb pedal.
Fender 12 string acoustic through a AT2020 mic.
Vantage & Hofner knock off Basses through a comp pedal and BDI21.
Squire Mustang into Mel9 choirs, strings & orchestra through comp pedal, GDI21 tweed settings and spring reverb pedal.
Mellotron string section tape wave files cut & pasted for high drones.
Non Reaper native plug ins are the readily available freebies of Density MkII and PSP Vintage Warmer 2.
There's still no keeper solo but I'm getting there. I did figure I should update you folk before the song is forgotten/consigned to the file shredder.
https://soundcloud.com/rayc/games-none-can-play-pygmy-beat-extended-feat-steve-smith
JUST LIKE THAT the guitar solo arrived, is mixed in and a rendering done...
https://soundcloud.com/rayc/14novaug19stevejames
Written by Misha & I.
Please let me know your thoughts and any suggestions re the mix.
For those of you who used CD slicks and LP covers, (for more than spliff rolling), here're the lyrics as sung..
Games None Can Play
Death of a word
None has said
Condemned man’s plea
Last meal fed

Bottled tears of
Brothel queens
Finding love
In magazines
Pornographic
Valentines
Games none
Can play
Bleeding jester’s
Morbid mirth
Death triumphant
At birth
Borrowed words
Little worth
Games none
Can play

Tissue lies
Truths untold
Signs of longing
Love gone cold
Litany denial
Lies long written
No comfort
Once smitten.

Bleeding jester’s
Morbid mirth
Death triumphant
At birth
Borrowed words
Little worth
Games none
Can play
Newborn, stillborn
Bleeding heart
Morning: evening’s
Dying art
In these we
Play no part
Games none
Can play

Newborn, stillborn
Bleeding heart
Morning: evening’s
Dying art
In these we
Play no part
Games none
Can play
Bottled tears
Brothel queens
Finding love
In magazines
Pornographic
Valentines
Games none
Can play

Close a sentence
Diagnosed in dark
Comes an end
Punctuation mark
Cut open morning
Tear into the light
Before it reveals
Swollen appetite

Death of a word
None has said
Condemned man’s plea
Last meal fed
Act of contrition
Sinners long gone
Words without meaning
Can’t be undone

...and as written, (I took the razor to the original version as it'd have taken a week to sing)...
a game for one player

At the death of a word
That no one has said
A condemned man’s plea
His last meal been fed

Bottled tears of brothel queens
Finding love in magazines
Pornographic valentines
In games of love no one can play
Bleeding jester’s morbid mirth
Death triumphant at each birth
Borrowed words of little worth
In games of love no one can play

In a tissue of lies
The truths still untold
Ten signs of longing
For a love now gone cold
Litany denial
In lies so long written
No easy comfort
For those that were smitten.

Bleeding jester’s morbid mirth
Death triumphant at each birth
Borrowed words of little worth
In games of love no one can play
Newborn, stillborn bleeding heart
Morning: evening’s dying art
In all these we play no part
In games of love no one can play

Newborn, stillborn bleeding heart
Morning: evening’s dying art
In all these we play no part
In games of love no one can play
Bottled tears of brothel queens
Finding love in magazines
Pornographic valentines
In games of love no one can play

The close of a sentence
Diagnosed in the dark
Comes to an end with
A punctuation mark
Cut open the morning
Tear into the light
Before it reveals
A swollen appetite

At the death of a word
That no one has said
A condemned man’s plea
His last meal been fed
An act of contrition
By sinners long gone
Words without meaning
That cannot be undone

Last edited by rayc; 11/15/19 02:26 PM.
Cheers
rayc
"What's so funny about peace, love & understanding?" - N.Lowe