Singer/songwriter, currently frontman for power-pop six-piece Roscoe's Basement; occasional acoustic solo artist.
Always seeking solo gigs.
Always seeking band gigs.
Reach me at jack dot feerick dot says at g mail dot com
Direct messages open on T witter [at] jackfeerick or [at] roscoesbasement
- Screen name:
- Member since:
- May 22 2017
- Active over 1 month ago
- Level of commitment:
- Years playing music:
- Gigs played:
- Over 100
- Tend to practice:
- 1 time per week
- Available to gig:
- 1 night a week
- Most available:
Solo: Richard Thompson, Nick Drake, Chris Whitley, Nico, Billie Holiday, Taj Mahal, Dire Straits...
With the band: Stones, Ramones, Pixies, the Who, U2, the Beatles, the Easybeats, and a million garage rock and new wave one-hit wonders.
- Rhythm Guitar:
- Acoustic Guitar:
- Bass Guitar:
- Background Singer:
- Other Percussion:
Acoustic: Martin Dreadnought Jr., Ovation CC-67 (DI)
Electrified: Vantage 213T, Peavey Bandit 112
assorted percussion: tambourine, agogo, dumbek
Whaler (instrumental mix)
Whaler (instrumental mix)Preliminary test mix of the instrumental bed for a new song, pending revisions to the lyrics and recording the vocal. Drum loop, environmental recording, two bass guitars, electroacoustic guitar, three electric guitars (clean, distorted, ambient swells), tambourine, agogo, darabouka, and fake brass band.
The Buffalo Skinners (rough mix)
The Buffalo Skinners (rough mix)Words: Traditional, arr. Feerick (which means I combed through dozens of variant versions and poached the parts I liked best, stitching them together with a few lines of my own). Music: Jack Feerick. Come all you honest working men and listen to my song Its verses are not many, I will not detain you long Concerning some wild cowboys who did agree to go And spend a summer pleasantly On the range of the buffalo ‘Twas in the town of Jacksb’ro in the spirng of seventy-three When a well-known famous drover come a-walking up to me Saying, “How d’ye do, young fellow, and would you like to go Well being out of work then to the drover I did say, “This going out on the buffalo range depends upon your pay But if you’ll pay good wages, and transport to and fro, I think, sir, I will go with you to the range of the buffalo.” “Of course I’ll pay good wages, and transportation, too— Provided you will pledge to stay and work the summer through. But if you should grow weary and decide it’s time to go, You’ll lose your way and starve to death On the range of the buffalo.” With his flatt’ring talk he signed up seven able-bodied men It’s now our outfit was complete and our troubles did begin Our journey was a fine one as he hit the western road ‘Til we came to that forsaken place On the range of the buffalo. It’s there our pleasures ended and our troubles all begun. We shook with cold in in the desert nights and toiled in the mid-day sun With our hands all cut to tatters from our butcher’s rodeo We suffered worse than murderers on the range of the buffalo. With Navy six and carbines and our hands upon our blades, The hardpan was our killing floor, with not a tree for shade; Leave the carcass to the blowflies and the bloody carrion crow; We made a stinking slaughterhouse of the range of the buffalo. The drover fed us buffalo hump for meat and sour bread And buffalo robes all full of fleas were all we had for beds Got all full of stickers from the cactus that did grow I pray that there is no worse Hell Than the range of the buffalo. The working season ended and the drover would not pay: “You all have drunk too much!” he said; “You’re all in debt to me!” We coaxed him and we begged him, and still it was no go So we left that bastard’s bones to bleach on the range of the buffalo. Two drum loops, cowbell, tambourine, bass, two electric guitars, Spanish guitar, banjo, harmonica, and ten tracks of vocals.
Judy Obscure (rough mix)
Judy Obscure (rough mix)Imaginary theme song for a YA novel I really ought to finish writing. Drum loop, live percussion, electroacoustic guitar, two electric guitars, bass, and stacks of vocals. (illustration by Shaun Feerick) Nowhere girl Little Miss Strange Busking on the corner for your pocket change Got no need to be understood by the likes o’ me Totally content to be a mystery Three trick hat And sleight of hand Three card monte on a garbage can She never made the reason known to me They call her J-U-D-Y O-B-S-C-U-R-E Have you heard? Have you heard? She came up in a hardy country Judy Obscure Now you see her Now you can’t Flowers, rings and scarves and elephants You can ask But she won’t say Just say: A-B-R-A-C-A-D-A-B-R-A Have you heard? . . . J-U-D-Y O-B-S-C-U-R-E J-U-D-Y O-B-S-C-U-R-E D-O Y-O-U L-O-V-E M-E? J-U-D-Y O-B-S-C-U-R-E Have you heard? . . . Find the Lady Pick the red Three can keep a secret if a-two of them are dead Her lips are moving but she’ll never sing Leave me dub’yo N-D-R-I-N-G wondering Have you heard? . . .
Plaster Bastard (rough mix)
Plaster Bastard (rough mix)Revised mix with vocals. Plaster bastard A portrait of the master Cold cast and three quarters full His bust disgusted A face that can’t be trusted Head and shoulders And rats in his skull Who would want it? Make you sick to look upon it Feel dishonored just Taking the prize Get it slated A fate he would have hated A face so racist Knives in his eyes PLASTER BASTARD, I WOULDN’T PUT IT PAST YA (why the long face, buddy why the long face) No minor figure Big and getting bigger Ballot riggers digging how You’re scaring yourself Grave spinner And absolute beginner Staring down the winners From your place on the shelf CHORUS to SOLO to BRIDGE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO LOOK UPON A FACE THAT HATES YOU CELEBRATE AND RATE YOU WITH A FACE THAT HATES YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO GAZE UPON A FACE THAT HATES YOU, YEAH Providential Rhode Island confidential A penny pencil Existential despair Astronomic The contrast could be comic The scale is cosmic And the stars don’t care Plaster bastard Put him out to pasture What’s past is past The last to score your reward Tongues lashin’ And character assassins First they displace, then make you Safe to ignore CHORUS to END Drum loop, three electric guitars (standard tuning), acoustic guitar (DADGAD), bass, clavinet, organ, voices.
AfricaTune #178 in THE SACRED HARP. Music: Isaac Watts, 1709. Words: William Billings, 1770. All voices: Jack Feerick.
The Rainmaker (rough mix)
The Rainmaker (rough mix)Some live by the river And follow where it flows Some only know the water by the rain And watch it come and go They say the wages of sin is death but at least the work is steady I should be drawing in my last breath for the things I’ve done already And if I never fuck up again it’ll still be way too often Twenty-five years and I never drank Never screamed or hit or cheated But I never could seem to make no bank And it left her feeling defeated If I’d seen the future then, I’d have told her not to bother And the storms they come and the storms they go The barrels fill up but they don’t overflow And I never do seem to have nothing to show For all of my rainmaking And it comes down here and it comes down there And there never quite seems to be enough to spare When circumstances become unfair For all of my rainmaking They say that failure’s not a crime or it’s a crime without a victim But the little hurts piled up with time though I tried hard not inflict ‘em And apologies, like paint, only cover up the ugly I can only hurt myself, I thought, this is nothing I can’t manage— but everyone who hurts himself has got somebody else taking damage cos a Holy Fool’s no saint when his family is hungry And the storms they come... How in heaven’s name did I get so stuck? A lot of bad decisions and a little plain bad luck How did I ever come to feel so lost When a promise not delivered can carry such a cost A little charity came my way and I tried to settle our business But she wouldn’t take nothing from me anyway cos it felt too much like forgiveness She just pointed at the door Didn’t do no more explaining They say that death is the wage of sin but it’s just the cost of living I should be drawing my last breath in for offenses unforgiven And if I never take one more Well you won’t hear me complaining And the storms they come ... Some live by the river And follow where it flows Some only know the water by the rain And watch it come and go Words, music, sampled foot stomp, sampled jaw harp, two tracks of fingerpicked acoustic guitar, banjo, mandolin, clean electric guitar splashes, distorted electric guitar splashes, two tracks of EBow, lead vocal and backing vocals, fake gospel choir, and various stunt guitars by Jack Feerick
Bethlehem Steel (rough mix v.2)
Bethlehem Steel (rough mix v.2)When the Lackawanna works went up They burned three days and nights And the pumper crews just stood and watched them fall It was a fire too hot for water And the works was lost to sight The roof fell in at first, and then the walls With a bang and crash like Hell was real And that’s the last we saw of Bethlehem Steel The pig iron came on railroad cars And the Pennsyltucky coke And the barges ran all night across the lake We were triple shifts around the clock And no end to the smoke And you heard the roaring, dreaming or awake Every man’s shoulder was to the wheel Trying to grind a living out of Bethlehem Steel Day in, day out Day in, day out Day in, day out 'til the last bell rings When the Lackawanna works shut down They didn’t even call It was just envelopes stacked up in tidy rows The forge stood quiet twenty years ‘til the fire took it all (right down to) Girders burned like bones picked clean by crows And I wouldn’t want to say just how I feel Watching the death of Bethlehem Steel True story, more or less. Drum loop, acoustic guitar, electric bass, two electric guitars (one fingerpicked rhythm, one lead), lead vocal, two harmony vocals.
Blue (rough mix v.2)
Blue (rough mix v.2)This had lyrics when I wrote it, years ago, but they were terrible; I always thought the tune was pretty, though. Loops, Two electric guitars, electric bass, Spanish guitar, EBow, tin whistles in multiple keys, harmonica, fake piano, and tambourine.
The Burning Bride (rough mix)
The Burning Bride (rough mix)She never talks to strangers — camped out in her oxygen tent Turning on the fire hose without her prior written consent You’re paging Doctor Horton ‘cause the laboratory’s locked down tight Try every combination but you never get the numbers right Coming out to see her but you know you’ve got to catch a ride You’re flirting with the fire — sleeping with the burning bride In the World’s Fair pavilion nineteen thirty-nine the fifth of May Wake up in a vacuum tube out on a public display It’s a marvel, it’s a mystery — put the plastic down and keep it sealed Blue bottle man or machine behind a copper shield But there’s a storm coming, Jimmy — you can fly away but you can’t hide You’re flirting with the fire — lighting up the burning bride In your fireproof long johns, preaching that full gospel kung fu There ain’t much else for a wind-up bad boy to do Better put the kettle on, you can’t hold back the turning tide You’re flirting with the fire, sparking with the burning bride You ain’t quite human but she’s willing now to let that slide You’re flirting with the fire, sleeping with the burning bride Flirting with the fire, marrying the burning Flirtingwith the fire, wifing up the burning Mazel tov, Jimmy – now you may kiss the burning bride Drum loop, electric rhythm guitar (standard tuning), electric rhythm guitar ( 5-string, capo 7), acoustic guitar (capo 5), doubled riff guitars, bass guitar, electric slide guitar (open A), three backing vocals, lead vocal.
Roscoe's Basement - Offensive (studio demo)
Roscoe's Basement - Offensive (studio demo)Words & music: C. Romano Jack Feerick - vocals, acoustic guitar, handclaps Deanna Finn - vocals, handclaps Tom Finn - drums Craig Hanson - bass, vocals, handclaps Mike Mann - guitars Chuck Romano - guitars Additional vocals and handclaps by Debbie Stiker-Mann Engineered and recorded by Joe Nauert
Roscoe's Basement - Purple Jesus (studio demo)
Roscoe's Basement - Purple Jesus (studio demo)Words & music: J. Feerick Jack Feerick - vocals, cowbells, drop-D acoustic guitar Deanna Finn - vocals Tom Finn - drums Craig Hanson - bass, vocals Mike Mann - guitars, slide guitar Chuck Romano - guitars Additional vocals by Debbie Stiker-Mann Engineered and recorded by Joe Nauert
DESTROY ALL CLICKBAIT opening theme
DESTROY ALL CLICKBAIT opening themeMy pal Adam Prosser (http://www.phantasmictales.com/ ) commissioned me to write and record an opening theme and bed music for his forthcoming podcast. Commissions are OPEN for jingles, personalized ringtones, and suchlike. Message me for inquiries and rates! Drum loop, overdriven bass guitar, four electric guitars (one with EBow), ten layers of vocals, and five tracks of synthesizers (tympani, bells, French horn, trombone, trumpets).
One of Your Poems (rough mix)
One of Your Poems (rough mix)This was done as a commission for my old friend, the poet Adam Ford (@adamatsya). It's a setting of a piece from his collection NOT QUITE THE MAN FOR THE JOB, done in the style of a radio jingle. You can purchase NOT QUITE THE MAN FOR THE JOB as an ebook here: adamford.tomely.com/not-quite-the-m…lespace-version
Eleanor Roosevelt (rough mix)
Eleanor Roosevelt (rough mix)My very own fake They Might be Giants song, inspired by the fact that Eleanor Roosevelt's birth name was the same as her married name. Drum loop, bass guitar, acoustic and electric guitars, vibes, organ, and a great many layers of vocals.
Keep On Swingin'
Keep On Swingin'I used to play a hot jazz fiddle I used to be a real cool cat I played it just like Joe Venuti Well, I wasn’t quite as good as that While my boys were all joining the brown shirts They told me it’s the way to go I said, “Do you swing?” And they said, “Here’s the thing…” And I told them, “Then the answer is No” They said I played degenerate music They called me a disgrace to the Reich Well I laughed in their faces and said, “The real disgrace is That marching-band scheiss that you like” I’m gonna keep on swingin’ Well I found a steady gig in Wittenberg Playing in a student café We were a five-piece band, the best in the land Til the Gestapo took the drummer away They broke his sticks, then his fingers Cos he wouldn’t play the downbeat square They said, “We’ll turn you to soap” –then they showed him a rope And said, “You can do your swinging there” Well we couldn’t go back to the café The windows they were all busted in We tried to reach the owner but we couldn’t telephone her And we never did see her again I’m gonna keep on swingin’ Well I left school the day that I turned sixteen Drifted out west to Cologne After Papa called me a Red and I wished he was dead So I guess I’m better off on my own Now I tell them that I’m gone for a pirate And I’m flying a brave black flag Better to live a tramp than in a concentration camp As a bundle of bones and rags Now I’m waiting in an alley with a knife in my hand And edelweiss in my lapel Well bless my soul here comes a Youth patrol And I’m ready to send them all to hell I’m gonna keep on swingin’ Drum sample, fake piano, bass guitar, two clean electric guitars, electroacoustic guitar, mandolin, and vocals.
They, Them, Their (The Pronoun Song)
They, Them, Their (The Pronoun Song)Call the preacher, get me a witness (they, them, they, them, their) What’s down my trousers ain’t none of your business I ain’t your book and I’m not a cover And I got no obligation to be one or the other He, him, his She, her, her They, them, their You, you, your I, me, my I don’t care We, us, our They, them, their I—don’t care to change your heart or your mind Don’t need you to be either friendly or kind Don’t want your love or your understanding Common courtesy is all I’m demanding He, him, his… It’s the least that you owe me A song about modern manners. Three electric guitars (one with Ebow,) electroacoustic guitar, bass guitar, lead vocal, three backing vocals.
Work in Progress (partial vocal mix)
Work in Progress (partial vocal mix)Pre-chorus tag for a new song with a new collaborator.
Cracky Benders (instrumental - mix 1)
Cracky Benders (instrumental - mix 1)My Dictionary of American Regional English defines “cracky benders” as old-time Yankee slang for the kind of thin ice that forms on a pond—ice that will bend if you step on it, but not break. When kids make a game out of daring each other to run or slide on such ice, they are “playing at cracky benders.” Drum loop, bass, harmonica, and three guitar parts. That swampy rhythm guitar is my Martin with the Fishman pickup, plugged into a bass amp—a fingerpicked line with slap echo, phasing, and tremolo added in post.
Crank the Heat to 80 (instrumental - rough mix)
Crank the Heat to 80 (instrumental - rough mix)An old college riff, revisited. This had words once, a long time ago, but they were very silly. Drum sample, bass guitar, lead and rhythm electric guitars, two acoustic guitars, two keyboard parts, harmonica, and a stack o' (wordless) vocals.
a.k.a. Cancer Blues (rough mix)
a.k.a. Cancer Blues (rough mix)Well the drinking couldn’t get me And my sugar couldn’t get me And the street, it couldn’t get me, no With bullets or with knives And my pressure couldn’t get me And my ticker couldn’t get me It took the Emperor of Maladies To try and take my life So bring it on, Carcinoma Angels But you ain’t getting nothing for free I got all this radiation’s gonna burn you out of me Well the madness couldn’t get me And my demons couldn’t get me Fifty years of living hard It couldn’t dim my lights And my sorrow couldn’t get me Disappointment couldn’t get me It took the Emperor of Maladies To even put up a fight So bring it on, Carcinoma Angels… Mister Bones keeps coming at me But he can’t get off a shot So now he’s gonna draw down With the biggest gun he’s got Well the needles couldn’t get me And the poisons couldn’t get me And the doctors couldn’t get me With their lasers and their blades And the Emperor’s offended And he thinks he’s gonna end it Well you can lay me low, Your Majesty But you can’t make me afraid Drum sample, finger snaps, fake vibraphone, two bass guitars, two electric guitars, acoustic guitar, vocals.
Trouble Comes In Threes (rough mix)
Trouble Comes In Threes (rough mix)I broke my arm pretty bad last winter, and wrote most of this one while it was still in a cast, singing bits and pieces of it into my phone—I heard the chords in my head before I could actually play them. It’s your basic bluesy cheatin’ song in E minor, livened up with a swinging sort of jazz-waltz rhythm (threes, get it?) and some extended chords. The middle bit nods to both Miles Davis and Jimi Hendrix. Drum sample, bass, four electric guitars, fake snare, fake melodica, vocals.
After the Axe Has Fallen (rough mix v2)
After the Axe Has Fallen (rough mix v2)Strong Richard Thompson influence on this one. Drum loop, electroacoustic rhythm guitar, bass guitar, ostinato riff electric guitar, awkward lead electric guitar, lead vocal, two harmony vocals, live percussion (tambourine & agogo).
Darabouka T (rough mix v.2)
Darabouka T (rough mix v.2)Written and recorded on a dare. Made with the sounds of darabouka, bodhràn, bongos, tambourine, fake samba whistle, fake sleigh bells, fake handclaps, real handclaps, a 5-gallon plastic bucket, boot board, konnakol vocals, a toothbrush, half a set of claves, and a broken drumstick.
Down By the Wayside (rough mix v.2)
Down By the Wayside (rough mix v.2)The lyrics ended up feeling like cryptic Dylanesque symbolism, but every word is plain fact. Newly remixed, with re-recorded vocals and a new vocal arrangement. Two guitars—electroacoustic rhythm and clean electric with echo—bass guitar, drum loop, and a bunch of vocal parts—four on the choruses, four on the bridge.
Ding Note (rough mix v.2)
Ding Note (rough mix v.2)Dear [CONTRIBUTOR] thank you for sending [STORY TITLE]—we hated the ending The beginning and the middle, they were much the same With diminishing returns as each new chapter came As for [STORY TITLE]—we trust You will find a place for it, far from us Returning your manuscript—suggesting burn it There’s nothing here for you—all you’ve really done is earned yourself A ding note SINCERELY YOURS TRULY There's too much description—there's no incident No likable characters—It's too sentimental It's too old-fashioned—The jokes aren't funny It's too post-modern—We don't see a lot of money The title is awful, the intern couldn't spell it Which we might have forgiven if we thought we could sell it Let us close with a deeply felt Good luck somewhere doing something else—this is a ding note SINCERELY YOURS TRULY BEST WISHES GOODBYE An anthem for the working writer. Remixed, with re-recorded vocals. Drum loop, samples, speech synthesizer, bass, electroacoustic guitar, electric guitar, and far too many vocal tracks.
The Sailor (rough mix)
The Sailor (rough mix)“God bless Captain Vere,” he cried out from the yardarm There was none who would wish him harm But for envy at arms Poor foretopman, he wept as the whipping started He was so tender-hearted “Farewell, Rights of Man,” he said As he settled himself down to his government bread WIth justice too heavy a crown for his head He was dancing on air with his legs cut from under We were struck dumb with wonder Then the cannons thundered We sprang to our guns with the fury of heathens And our grief was the reason No quarter, no white flag of truce With an angel of God swinging still from the noose And a French man o’ war there to take the abuse When a yarn spins a lie that lays hard by the truth For an old salt grown long in the tooth One eye looking at youth Through my cannibal days I was innocence seeking On the timbers a-creaking Grey bearded and bound to the shore The old stay-at-home will go sailing no more Til I’m bound for the country no man’s seen before Evermore Lyrics inspired by Herman Melville. Drum loop, tone generator, acoustic guitar; two electric guitars; electric bass; vocals; two tin whistles, one pitch-shifted.
The Ballad of William Walker (rough mix)
The Ballad of William Walker (rough mix)A psychedelic flamenco history lesson. Drum loop, environmental recording, live tambourine. Six layers of vocals. Bass guitar. Steel-stringed acoustic guitar. Two nylon-stringed guitars. Two distorted electric guitars. And introducing... tubular bells.
Roscoe's Basement - Sister Saintly
Roscoe's Basement - Sister SaintlyMusic: M. Mann, words: J. Feerick Jack Feerick - vocals Deanna Finn - vocals Tom Finn - drums Craig Hanson - bass, vocals Mike Mann - guitars Chuck Romano - lead guitar Engineered and recorded by Joe Nauert
Roscoe's Basement - Lose My Reason
Roscoe's Basement - Lose My ReasonWords & music: C. Romano Jack Feerick - vocals, percussion Deanna Finn - vocals Tom Finn - drums Craig Hanson - bass, vocals Mike Mann - guitars, slide guitar Chuck Romano - guitars (2nd solo) Additional vocals by Debbie Mann Engineered and recorded by Joe Nauert
Chalcedony (rough mix)
Chalcedony (rough mix)A song about love, loss, and geology. Two acoustic guitars, two electric guitars, bass, drum loop, and vocals.
Something To Do (rough mix)
Something To Do (rough mix)I’ve been hanging fire for sixteen days And the time is piling up in my hands I’ve been working my contacts and blowing my phone up And working on a TV tan I got my applications and résumés I filled ‘em out and I sent ‘em in And I’m waiting, waiting, waiting waiting waiting waiting Waiting for my life to begin Get busy, let’s make a deal I’m tired of just spinning my wheels—give me Something to do I’ve put the word out to the real high rollers That I’m ready now to move and shake I’ve made the phone calls and the interview appointments Taken all the showers I can take Sent the message down the networks Telling them what’s at stake And I’m waiting, waiting, waiting waiting waiting waiting Waiting for my one big break I can’t stand to sit here going to seed I don’t want much—all I really need is Something to do I’m sick of drinking and I don’t want to keep thinking Of the chances that have passed me by I’m wasting my time and I’ll tell you that I’m Not ready to lay down and die I’ve been cooling my heels now for seventeen days And I’m pacing a hole in the floor Put my thumb in the ink for fingerprints And my fist through the kitchen door I could handle these disasters If I wasn’t SO FUCKING BORED And I’m waiting, waiting, waiting waiting waiting and I Don’t want to wait no more It’s getting hard to keep standing tall There must be something more than nothing all—give me Something to do Clean electric guitar, dirty electric guitar, bass, drum loop, lead vox, two harmony vocals.
Kate On A Hot Tin Roof (rough mix - vocal and lead guitar)
Kate On A Hot Tin Roof (rough mix - vocal and lead guitar)Electroacoustic guitar, lead and rhythm electric guitars, lead and backing vocals. Backing track created with a Roland MT-100 sequencer.
Meat Clown (rough mix)
Meat Clown (rough mix)Don’t let nothing go to waste Smash it up into a paste Slice it up and Choke it down MEAT CLOWN Tails and assholes, ears and snouts Grind ‘em up and squeeze ‘em out Made for pennies On the pound MEAT CLOWN DOES THIS TASTE FUNNY DOES THIS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Sweeping from the butcher’s floor Salt and Red Dye Number Four Sausage circus Comes to town MEAT CLOWN What throws up Must bow down MEAT CLOWN A musical tribute to a nightmare foodstuff. Bass, three electric guitar tracks (rhythm, lead, SFX/noises), processed vocals, drum loop.
Jack o' Diamonds (demo)
Jack o' Diamonds (demo)Rough cut for a new song; two acoustic guitars, bass, three vocal parts, and a drum loop. The instrumental break quotes an Appalachian folk song, "The Cuckoo Bird," which also partly inspired the lyric.
The Atomic Clock
The Atomic ClockRoland MT-100 sequencer-synthesizer module and digital electric piano. Although the sound is intentionally mechanical, no looping was used; all parts were played by hand from start to finish, then quantized to correct imperfections in timing. Straight from cassette, with only noise reduction and EQ in post.
NocturneSolo electroacoustic guitar with EBow and extensive live processing; digitized from a 1990 cassette recording, additional processing in post.
Calliope II (rough mix)
Calliope II (rough mix)An old instrumental — written on guitar but played here on digital piano with a MIDI arrangement — rescued from a shoddy old cassette and lightly tweaked in post.