Get all 48 David Braid releases available on Bandcamp and save 10%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Transfigured Life - Still Life, Autoworks, Compilation II, Five duos for viola & guitar, Journey Time, Two songs of North Wales seaside towns, Three guitar solos, A Direction Sought - electric guitars + samples, and 40 more.
1. |
Santiago
03:04
|
|||
|
Santiago - Federico García Lorca
It's raining in Santiago
sweet love of mine.
White camellia of the air,
obscurely shines the sun.
It's raining in Santiago
on this dark night
Grasses of silver and dream
cover the empty moon.
See the rain on the streets
An outcry of glass and stone.
See in the vanishing winds,
the shadow and ash of your sea.
Santiago, so far away the Sun.
Water of an ancient morning
trembles deep within in my heart.
--------
Chove en Santiago
meu doce amor.
Camelia branca do ar
brila entebrecida ô sol.
Chove en Santiago
na noite escura.
Herbas de prata e de sono
cobren a valeira lúa.
Olla a choiva pola rúa,
laio de pedra e cristal.
Olla no vento esvaído
soma e cinza do teu mar.
Soma e cinza do teu mar
Santiago, lonxe do sol.
Ãgoa da mañán anterga
trema no meu corazón.
|
||||
2. |
Silence
02:09
|
|||
|
Silence – Ho Hsiang-ning
In the stillness of the night,
A small boat docks by an ancient bridge.
The murmuring strains of a flute pierce
through the moonlit silence.
Wafting, softly recounting
The ebbs and flows of fortunes past,
Blown away, alas
Like twigs of willows strewn about
the bridge.
|
||||
3. |
Still
02:17
|
|||
|
Still - Federico García Lorca
That still pool of the air
Under the branch of an echo.
The still pool of the water
Under a frond of bright stars.
That still pool of your mouth
Under a thicket of kisses.
El remanso de aire
bajo la rama del eco.
El remanso del agua
bajo fronda de luceros.
El remanso de tu boca
bajo espesura de besos.
|
||||
4. |
Almost
02:45
|
|||
|
Almost – R. S. Thomas
Was here and was one person
and was not; knew hunger
and its excess and was too full
for words; was memory’s
victim. Had he a hand
in himself? He had two
that were not his: with one
he would build, with the other
he would knock down. The earth
catered for him and he drank
blood. What was the mirror
he looked in? Over his shoulder
he saw fear, on the horizon
its likeness. A woman paused
for him on her way
Nowhere and together they
made in the great darkness the
small fire that is life’s decoy.
|
||||
5. |
Night
03:47
|
|||
|
Night – Liao Ching-K’ai
Night drifts in
Through the vermillion pillars and jade balustrade. Pensively,
The peacock lacquered pavilion leans
Against the evening breeze.
Mountains wreathed in billowing ribbons of haze,
And the river is embroidered
With the last amber rays of a hurried sun.
Time is a silent witness,
Watching impassively,
As dynasties come and go.
Whatever our talents,
Be they in sculpturing fu,
Or in slaying dragons in battles,
In the end,
All is as futile as it is to plead
For suspended moments
Before the Judge of Time.
Ask not where the old master has gone,
Nor where lie buried
The fame and the splendour
Of a forgotten day.
Of them,
Not even a trace
Or an echo remain.
Now into this grey loneliness come
Troops of lowly rats.
Hiding themselves from the light of day,
They scratch and scurry in corridors.
When the dark veil of night descends.
|
||||
6. |
A Land
04:06
|
|||
|
A Land – R. S. Thomas
Their souls are something smaller
than the mountain above them
And give them more trouble
They are not touched
either by the sun rising at morning
Or the sun setting at evening.
They are all in shadow
pale and winding themselves about each other,
inhibiting growth.
Death lives in this village,
The ambulance plies back and fore,
And they look at it through the eternal Downpour of their tears.
Who was it found
truth’s pebble in the stripling river?
No one believed him.
The have hard hands that money adheres
to like the scales
of some
hideous disease, so that they grizzle
as it is picked off.
And the chapel crouches
A stone monster waiting to spring,
Waiting with the disinfectant of
its language
For the bodies rotting with
their unsaid prayers.
It is at such times
That they sing, not music
so much as the sound of a nation
rending itself, fierce with all the promise of a beauty that might have been theirs.
|
||||
7. |
Sainte (bonus track)
02:59
|
|||
|
Sainte - Stéphane Mallarmé
A la fenêtre recélant
Le santal vieux qui se dédore
De sa viole étincelant
Jadis avec flûte ou mandore,
Est la sainte pâle, étalant
Le livre vieux qui se déplie
Du Magnificat ruisselant
Jadis selon vêpre et complie:
A ce vitrage d'ostensoir
Que frôle une harpe par l'Ange
Formée avec son vol du soir
Pour la délicate phalange
Du doigt que, sans le vieux santal
Ni le vieux livre, elle balance
Sur le plumage instrumental,
Musicienne du silence.
----------
At the window concealing
The old sandalwood that
Is losing its gilt
Of her viol once sparking
With flute or mandola,
Is the pale saint; She displays the old
unfolding book of the Magnificat
flowing in ages past according to
vespers and compline:
Within this monstrance glass brushed
by a harp formed by the Angel
with his evening flight for the delicate tip
Of the finger which, without the old sandalwood
or the old book, she holds poised on the
instrumental plumage, musician of silence
|
||||
David Braid London, UK
David Braid, composer of some 180+ works, including 3 symphonies, a viola concerto & 90+ pieces including guitar, has had
his work performed in Europe and the Americas & broadcast on BBC Radio 3.
Steve Reich said of his work ‘Morning’ (soprano/string qt) “Real honest stuff”.
Major UK performances include Wigmore Hall, Southbank Centre, King’s Place, Wilton’s Music Hall, 1901 Arts Club, etc.
... more
David Braid recommends:
guitARS subtilior
by Branimir Krstic
Branimir is a true original and a wonderfully inventive guitarist & composer - BUY THIS ALBUM - it's like nothing else you've heard and is absolutely beautiful.
go to albumIf you like David Braid, you may also like:
Christopher Cerrone - The Arching Path (ICR021)
by Christopher Cerrone
Twinkling piano compositions from Christopher Cerrone conjure images of snow falling on a tranquil night.
go to album
Electric Intervals
by Martyn Heyne
A work of beautiful, pointillist guitar from Martyn Heyne, the moving songs on “Electric Intervals” are made of tiny pinpricks of sound.
go to album
Minimalist modern classical that captures the slowly unfolding beauty of post-rock groups like Rachel’s.
go to album
Imprints 1 & 2
by Simeon Walker
These almost heartbreakingly gentle felted piano compositions have the delicacy and loveliness of slow-falling snow.
go to album
Landscape Traces: New music for khaen, volume two
by Christopher Adler
The khaen—a free-reed mouth organ from Laos and Northeast Thailand—comes to life on this compilation EP.
go to album
