I really just did the first one as an experiment but the more I listened to it today the more I realized how much of a hack job I did on it. I really couldn't deal with this beautiful song being murdered like that so I changed key and redid it.
I am using a MXL 603 on the guitar pointed at the neck joint and angled toward the neck (panned slightly right) and a Rode NT1-A for my vocals pointed dead center (panned slightly left)
Lyrics:
It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.
And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
And The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives.
Yes we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives.
I am using a MXL 603 on the guitar pointed at the neck joint and angled toward the neck (panned slightly right) and a Rode NT1-A for my vocals pointed dead center (panned slightly left)
Lyrics:
It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.
And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
And The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives.
Yes we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives.
Category Music / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 96 x 120px
File Size 3.15 MB
man, you pulled THIS one up? I haven't heard this in years. Those damn poets. It maybe my set up, a 5.1 with a sub woofer, the bass overpowers the high picking a bit. And you did a great job, so I find myself lowering my bass. But that's just the only critique I can come up with. :p
I love this song. there are a lot of these really wonderful things that they did on their first few albums that get no attention whatsoever so I try to go with stuff that most people may not have heard :)
Yeah, the mics are a bit unbalanced at the bass end. I am having to learn their quirks.
Yeah, the mics are a bit unbalanced at the bass end. I am having to learn their quirks.
FA+

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