Song picture
Agincourt
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Llewellyn was one of five hundred Welsh longbow men at Agincourt. There were five thousand archers all told.
alternative ambient instrumental lounge poetry film world fusion organic soloneili
Artist picture
Soloneili. Life is art and art is life.
Hi, thanks for visiting my music. I'm fascinated by the creative use of sound, and I like to explore the audio-imagery that we all have. I think that the world of music, and indeed the aural world in general, has moved on with the technology available. It is now second nature to work with with sequencers and digital audio work stations. Many years ago, painterly artists actually made by hand the colours they painted with, but now they buy them. Today, modern composers take commercially available patches and samples, then paint with them, producing their art, in sound and music form. This has opened up a new world, where traditional musicianship can blend with twenty first century creativity. What really matters is the piece of musical art that is the end result. I like to use a combination of all the elements, happily adding traditional musicianship to technology, even bending and shaping sound whilst looking for a finished statement. I like to explore musical diversity, and probe the far corners of the whole spectrum of audio imagery. I am also constantly aware that there will always be a piece missing from every work, the listener's own imagination. That is where the chemistry and the alchemy come together. I hope you find something of my work that pleases you, or at least enjoy passing through the experience. Byeeeeee!
Song Info
Genre
Podcasts Poetry
Charts
Peak #58
Peak in subgenre #11
Author
Soloneili
Rights
Soloneili
Uploaded
December 29, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.2 MB 128 kbps 3:27
Story behind the song
Agincourt............a Poem by Neil Holland aka Soloneili I am Llewellyn, bowman to the King and to my King I bend my Welshman’s will. Shall minstrels sing one day of this man’s aim as loyal geese, unquivered, flock to kill. Pray I’m strong as granite rock in archer’s guise. Lord bless these wings of war that I send high. Unflinched by armoured breast and horses hoof a Kingdom’s rain of death should please thine eye. I know thee not black Knight on foreign soil, but wish you harm I must this deadly day. And in my will to see my love again, I’ll launch my arrows on their vengeful way. As sods now tremble under mighty hoof five thousand bows unleash the night on day, and surely I will turn and run for home should humming flights intent on death, lose sway. Never did I hear such choral screaming as leapt impaled, up from those charging Knights. Never did I want to see such carnage, as English arrows slaughtered realm and might. The birds feast hard this stenching deathly day. Llewellyn’s bow has served its call to war. My pride sits well in loyal act now done, as brave man murders brave man, in bloody Agincourt.
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