MAKING DRACULA REDUNDANT

sandwich

‘Bono’s Worse Nightmare’


I’ve been watching the new take on Dracula on the TV. I’m two episodes in. It’s not brilliant but I score it OK. The thing is the writers have missed a trick. To be certain to save yourself from Dracula you have to remember to carry a crucifix around with you at all times. Dracula can’t cope with people holding a cross in his face. It renders him useless. A load of nuns in one scene all get killed by Dracula because they forgot to carry the crucial crosses with them.


Then I had this random thought. Why not wear a T-shirt with a cross printed on it? Better still, if you are living in Transylvania just get yourself a crucifix tattoo on your forehead. Sorted – no need to remember anything, and the plus is Dracula becomes just a bloke with dodgy teeth, out of work and down the Job Centre hoping for a gig that has a night-shift.


On top of that, if Bram Stoker who wrote the original Dracula book had thought it through he’d never have had to bother writing the book in the first place.


Victory – what is victory
When you win a battle and then the war?
Victory – what is victory
When you’re unlocking an unlocked door?


Pointless – call it futile
The way you boast how well you lied
Pointless – call it laughable
That you thought yourself the perfect bride


Love and hate – now out of hiding
Love and hate – smack in my face
I count losers in the graveyard
You count winners lost without a trace


I saw it – I saw it coming
But never spoke out of turn
Watched you fan the flames of yesterday
And watched the future burn


Listen – can you hear me?
Or are you bathing in champagne
Hold your breath and believe me
When I say you won the game


Probable; possible verse/chorus – it bounces like an old English folk song:
No reason to share a truth or live a lie
Since we walked in the cemetery where all dreams, they die


My sleepless night words have a lot of opposite takes on life and something else I’m not sure of, a bit like my song ‘Shadow on the Wall’ from the Devil’s Kiss album. Here it is. I hope you enjoy;


If any poets out there are interested in having your poems turned into songs then click here to check it out: POETRY TO SONG


If you are looking for the above or all my other music then you’ll find it to download on BANDCAMP  or you can stream and/or make a playlist of it on SPOTIFY


Copyright © 2019 Zoolon Audio.  Music & Artwork. All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

VICTORY & AN ARTIST

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I took this photo on Christmas Eve. The statue lives in the Western Docks of Dover Harbour. I read the girl the two soldiers are holding is called ‘Victory’. The statue is a memorial created in remembrance of the 556 employees who worked on the railways and who died in service during World War I. I’ve got to try the best I can to compose a piece based on this.

A less important, yet a problematic thing followed. So, it’s Christmas Eve late afternoon. The shops will be shutting soon. A random memory grabs hold. A couple of weeks back I ordered my mother’s Christmas present. To save paying postage and packing I’d opted to collect it from the store a couple of days later, but I forgot. In a panic I drive down town to the store. The song ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham is playing loud. I hate that song. There’s nothing in it or about it I like. Anyway, I get to the counter. “No can do,” says the girl, “I need proof of identity.” I’d left my phone and my wallet in the car.

I’d had to park a good distance away and closing time was closing in. I rush back to the car. Grab my phone and wallet. Back to the shop. The girl on the counter says, “Not again, please God, not again.” Thinking she was having a dig at me I point out that this is only my second visit and that’s it’s not like I’ve been in and out of the shop loads of times. She says, “Sorry, it’s not you, it’s this song. It’s mangling my mind. I’ve had to listen to it all day, every day for weeks. I can’t cope.” The song? ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham. It just had to be. I sympathise with her. Tell her I understand.

I go on to say, the first two lines of the lyric are the worst opening lines ever written. She asks me why. So, I give her the first two lyric lines, “Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, But the very next day you gave it away,” adding, “Think about it. Those words are definitely not Organ Donation friendly.”

She says, “Wot you mean?” I decided that elaborating might be a bit long-winded. I collect mum’s gift and leave the shop.

Come Christmas morning I remember I’ve forgotten to wrap mum’s gift in the sparkly paper I got last year but never used and couldn’t find anyhow. All the stuff my mum gave me were wrapped up dead neat.

Time for a song. The new album is a couple of weeks away, but for now my song plus instrumental, both in remembrance of just one person. A unique photographic artist. The song, ‘Francesca’, her suicide reflected in the instrumental, ‘Eastside 1981’. I hope you enjoy.

Last thing. On Christmas Day I was No. 1 artist on the ReverbNation UK Chart. 

Copyright © 2018 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

 

‘MANDY’S DOOR’

folkestone sky‘For Free’ by Zoolon

The brainwasher wearing the grey suit that sparkled said he drove an Audi Quattro. He asked what I drove. I lied and said a skateboard. He asked why I didn’t wear, “A smart suit like mine”. I couldn’t be bothered to answer.  Also, he looked like someone who might end up on a #metoo rap. Maybe that was a bit harsh, maybe not. Later he mentioned that when he sees a door, he sees an ‘entrance’. When he spoke he acted as if he knew something no one else knew.

“What do you see when you see a door, George?”

I was going to say, ‘A door’ but said, “An exit” instead. He told me that was a negative reply. Probably was.

Outside his office, a giant office full of ethically sourced takeaway coffee cups and stressed people looking like they wanted to end it all, I noticed a fire exit door. I thought I’d like to have seen the brainwasher in the grey suit that sparkled try that door out as an entrance. Maybe my answer wasn’t so negative after all.

Out in the street just up from the office in front of a private house a white van pulled up at the same time a lady in a grey tracksuit that didn’t sparkle came out to greet the driver. A fat bloke in trainers. She apologized for collaring me before asking if I could give the van driver a hand carrying the door he was delivering upstairs. Said it was too heavy for him to carry and that she wasn’t strong enough to help. She hadn’t brushed her hair and only had one slipper on. Odd. The toenails on the foot without a slipper were, I think, painted lime green. I’m not good with colours. Anyway, I said OK, thinking all the time that this must be ‘The Day of the Door’.

The door wasn’t that heavy. Neat house inside. Now in her smart kitchen both her black cats left via the cat flap ‘exit’, reinforcing the positivity of my ‘exit’ theory of doors.

I noticed she’d brushed her hair and found her other slipper when she thanked me for helping out, offering  me a smile, a fiver and a slice of wedding cake (?). I would have settled for the smile but she insisted I take the fiver. I took the fiver, not the wedding cake.

She told me her name was Mandy, after Barry Manilow. I said nothing but thought if she’s been named after Barry Manilow then logically her name should have been Barry. I suppose I could have said my name is George, after Lana Del Ray but though better of it.

I wonder what Mandy sees when she sees a door. I never asked, maybe I should have. I guess todays song should have been dedicated to Mandy, but it’s not. This one is for Mr Brainwasher, it’s called ‘Delusional Troll’. I hope you enjoy;

There’s a new album close to completion. It’ll be out there very soon. Below, my current albums available on Bandcamp;

Copyright © 2018 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

 

 

THE DAY I MET AN ANGEL

Pictures by mike 050

‘Une Grotte Quelque Part en Normandie’ by Zoolon

The little old bloke with the peaked cap walks the main road into town each day. He carries a big bag and picks up all the street rubbish. He never wears gloves. He’s round-shouldered and his trousers are too short. He doesn’t speak to anyone. He just swears to himself. I saw him again this morning. He was mumbling ‘bastards’ on a loop.

A bit further down road is a bus stop. There’s not a lot of call for it. It’s only two short stops away from the depot. Only people with walking sticks or don’t like walking wait there.

The girl with a Swastika tattoo on her neck had an old moped last week. This week she has a brand new Lambretta. It sounds like a swarm of angry bees. Maybe a bit smoother than that. Her moped used to sound like C-3PO with a chesty cough. She doesn’t do crash helmets. If ever people are waiting at the bus stop and there’s a massive puddle kerbside she aims at it and puts two-fingers up as she soaks them on her drive-by. I don’t know how that’s going to pan out now she has a Lambretta.

Opposite the doctors surgery, further down, a double-fronted Victorian lump. It doubles up as a knocking shop. That’s what I was told anyway. I had to ask what one of those was. I should have worked it out myself. It’s probably true that it is a knocking shop. A pretty pissed off girl – I think ‘pretty’ works both ways with this one – in just her dressing down rushed out of the front door, down the steps holding a massive kitchen knife. She shouts in a language I don’t know. The bloke she was chasing was now on the other side of the road. Running. He looked English. Most likely he is. She gave up the chase. I guess he never paid. Odd thing to see at 9am.

Further down, closer to the town centre, there’s the bloke with the two golden retrievers. I see him most days. The dogs each have a newspaper in their mouths. They always do. Makes them feel special. They are.

Just past the railway station there’s a giant horse chestnut tree. The Christian’s, an older bloke in a long black coat and a girl dressed like she’s time travelled here from a hundred years ago, stand under it handing out A5 glossy leaflets. I didn’t take one. They seem happy enough, even though it’s a cold day. A few weeks back when the conkers were falling off the tree they gave handing out leaflets a miss.

When I get to the post office a sweet little old lady is just exiting. I hold the heavy door open for her. She looks up at me, grabs the sleeve of my hoodie.  Holds it tight as old hands can. Says, “No one does that anymore.” I say, “What?” thinking I might have done something wrong. She tells me that she likes it when a gentleman holds the door open for her. “Good manners” she says. Then I get what she meant. She gives me a whiter than white dentures Hollywood smile, squeezes the back of my hand like she’s ‘Super Old Lady’ then wanders off. An angel? I reckon so. I’ve never been called a gentleman before. Today’s song, ‘All Winter Long’ is for her. It’s the first track on my Rainbows End album. Hope you enjoy.

My albums on sale at Bandcamp;

Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

WELCOME TO THE ‘HOTEL BARBED WIRE’

ven (2)Source: Chicago Tribune

‘Barbed wire used properly can be a beautiful sight’, so said the man who ought to know better. Really?  It might be when used as an art-form but not in the context you used it, mate.

Whatever, those cruel words got me thinking; got me composing a new piece for the new album. It’s an ambient instrumental reflecting the slow, hopeful journey toward what desperate migrants see as a kind of paradise, as well as what will probably be a tragic end to their exodus in the not too distant future. All they’ll find at the end of their rainbow is the disappointment of ‘Hotel Barbed Wire’ (…Such a lovely place, Such a lovely face* – not) and armed soldiers guarding the borderline blocking their way.

In writing this number I’ve purposely not let it reveal any emotion of anger. I’m not making any judgments in composing this piece. I simply want it to map out their progress across foreign lands ending in a refugee ‘crisis moment’ that needn’t happen but likely will. I hope I’m proved wrong. Anyhow, its entitled, ‘Barbed Wire’.  Music to lie back and get the vibe? I hope so;

I mentioned in my previous blog post that I’d made it into the Top 20 on ReverbNation’s UK chart. As of now I can report that Zoolon sits at No. 5 in that UK chart, plus making a significant dent in the top 100 Global chart. WP support has played a big part in this. Thank you. I even treated myself to a new guitar, a Fender Vintage Blonde American Special Telecaster to celebrate this and a few other things that have gone my way lately. My Vintage Blonde shared my bed last night. She struck a chord. True‘ ish. I’m thinking it might be time to shift some of my other guitars. Maybe, maybe not.

fender

My current albums available on Bandcamp;

*Apart from the lyric sample from The Eagles, Copyright © 2018 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

 

BABY MOONBEAM’S MUM

CUSHION4‘To the dark side of this mirror’ by Zoolon

The bus broke down halfway up the mountainside. The driver got the bonnet open. Steam came out. Even though he had a box of spanners he told us there was nothing he could do. He didn’t know when help would come because his mobile couldn’t get a signal.

Sat on the back seat of the bus alone was a mother feeding her baby. The big-headed bloke in the suit carrying a briefcase told her doing it in public was disgusting, just before he and his underlings, also in suits carrying briefcases, left the bus to do a bit of motivational team building at the top of the mountain.

After that the bloke with the posh voice in a fluorescent padded waterproof jacket with a hood, told the mum feeding the baby that she looked beautiful. Once he’d said that he and his mates, also in fluorescent padded waterproof jackets with hoods left the bus. I heard one of them say they had to leave as they were chasing avalanches.

That left just me, the bus driver with the box of spanners and a blind bloke who’d lost his walking stick because he couldn’t see where he left it. The three of us decided to stay with the mother feeding her baby because it didn’t seem right leaving her alone. She never told me her name but the baby was called Moonbeam.

After a long wait, a man dressed as a woman, leading a donkey knocked on the bus window to attract my attention. He said I could have the donkey as he was worried about keeping it any longer. I asked him why he was worried about keeping a donkey. He answered that it was because of the full moon tonight. Told me he turned into a werewolf on full moon’s and it was a certainty that if he kept his donkey he’d end up eating it raw come midnight. The donkey was called Ant.

He seemed pleased when I said I’d take Ant off his hands so that the mother still feeding her baby could sit on its back and me, the driver and the blindman could walk her back down the hill to somewhere safe. The werewolf, at the moment just a man dressed as a woman, was good with that.

Just before we said our goodbyes I told him that if he got peckish later on there was a big-headed bloke and his mates somewhere near the top of the mountain. He thanked me.

We got the mother, still feeding her baby, back home safe. She invited us in for a cup of tea. I had tap water as I don’t drink tea.

Moonbeam’s mum, still feeding baby Moonbeam, asked me if she was allowed to tell her own mum, her granddad and the lady who lived next door, that she’d been rescued from halfway up the mountain rather than say she’d just had a donkey ride home. I said if she thought about it she had been rescued. She said, “Cool.” I told her Moonbeam could keep Ant, but she might want to give him a more credible name. She said, “Neat.”

I meant to tell her she was beautiful like the bloke with the posh voice in a fluorescent padded waterproof jacket with a hood had but I forgot.

The next day I wrote her this song.

Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

ZOOLON’S NEW ALBUM – ‘RAINBOWS END’

rainbows end cover

Cover art ‘Not What I See’ by Zoolon

‘Rainbows End’, released today, is my second album following in the footsteps of ‘Dream Rescuer’ although this time I have added more percussive and the electric guitar elements. As ever, reflections of life, love and the surreal also play their part in the album’s construct. This album consists of a mix of 10 tracks, 8 original songs plus 2 meditative, ambient piano pieces.

Although, unlike most of the other songs on the album, the title track, ‘Rainbow’s End’ is an acoustic number, this song is about a subject that is important to me, namely Planet Earth and the damage humans are doing to the environment. I hope you like it;

The album is now on sale at Bandcamp for just £4 (or the equivalent in other currencies). The download comes with a lyric booklet included.

Click here for Rainbows End album link

If anyone checking out the new music on Bandcamp could find a little time to hitting the ‘Follow’ button it would be appreciated.

Zoolon aka George

 

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