1. |
As a composer
02:27
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And I had a dream of a new way to make music. What you do is you take some paper and you turn it two dimensional. Attentively. And then, of course, you flatten it out and talk about it. And you read it. With the grid. Aspects of music you didn’t notice. I don’t mean you do this as a performer, I’m thinking of doing it as a composer. So if I’d have the time to measure it. Time into the sound. Close together. In it. Experience. Last music. Stop. A higher development is reached.
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2. |
Provokit
03:02
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Provokit. Experimental go-go clubs, jazz cafes and underground cinemas, laboratories as playgrounds of becoming for middle class gardeners. Summer almost songs as virtual and non real action process.
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3. |
Chinando
03:12
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4. |
Bydgoszcz (uno)
03:00
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Bydgoszcz
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5. |
Funky rhythm
02:24
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This funky rhythm u can't control it. The more you hear it. The more you want it.
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6. |
Quiero bailarlo así
04:16
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7. |
My own true love
04:00
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Oh sweet sixteen lovers. Saw you my true love anywhere? Dancing a ring around. It is for my own true love.
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8. |
Oye dime nena
02:46
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Oye. Dime nena, ¿adónde ves ahora algo en mí que no detestes?
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9. |
20 años después
03:11
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10. |
Consexualization
04:42
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We move into the systems of insight. Consexualization. Visualization of wrong navigation queue for public good. Once in a lifetime this is a moment of craziness. Fuck. Shit happens. Happened here? click click click shit happened here. Ctrl-q Ctrl-q Ctrl-q. If we feel bad it is ok.
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11. |
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My dealer she is my leader.
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12. |
Llénate de alma
03:57
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13. |
ssssss
02:32
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14. |
Computers are in control
04:26
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Five. Four. Three. Two. One. We are sending greetings from our world, wishing you happiness, goodness, good health and many years.
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15. |
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Tú haces que mis días cambien de color, amor.
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16. |
Blanco
02:41
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17. |
Siluro
10:44
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18. |
Miel
04:00
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Yo, feliz. Dos veces y por siempre fuera teniendo cerca mis dos gemas gemelas.
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19. |
Cenizas en tus labios
03:36
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Ella me dijo: “quiero llenar mi vaso con tu humo, con tu sombra gitano. Quémalo todo, que prenda despacio, que arda tu boca. Cenizas en tus labios. Coge la guitarra y toca esa nota, riega mi alma rota, mi cuerpo gota a gota. Mata tus palabras, córtalas con hacha, que sequen mi carne. Mil flores de sangre brotan”. Noches de verano.
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Fermin Serrano Zaragoza, Spain
A mix of creating and exploring music
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