1. |
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“According to the Greenland Inuit, the “Quigyat” auroras were the spirits of children who
died a violent death or on their birthday.
This album in war times, employs the live and studio dimension to explore the
possibilities (also compositional) offered by electronics, the same as defined by music
critic Luigi Pestalozza, Luigi Nono’s biographer, as the fruit of armament research”
Quigyat (Little Symphony for Frozen Soldiers)
Voices:
"If I were fire I would burn the opulence
that bestows such beauty
but at the expense of others."
"'Mom... where is my mum?"
"We'll explode in a scream,
to dig up the dead from the earth
And return their nameless graves to heaven."
To The Gorla’s Martyrs Statue (Requiem in Defence of Children’s Rights)
Never let the child fall
never let he fall
today let your arms be like a swing
today let your arms be like a swing
rocking sweetly
sweetly among the stars
today let the planes just be toys
today let the bombs be pins that shine shine shine shine
From today the mothers black flood have dressed all Milan
with their prams empty, empty made up as dolls,
slowly taken away like seaweed from ghosts.
All around the skyscrapers become so tall that
the subway light can't rise above like a burp toward the sky,
hanging from people's eyes always lower out of shame dressed as....
dressed as pride.
“Miserable childhood, that inside its bleakness
already can tell good from evil...
that is sleeping and will awake,
will open its eyes but to not see
too much will go back to sleep" (Hanus Hachenburg, 12.7.1929 -- Auschwitz 18.12.1943)
The Lost Birds
I love the lost birds
That come back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
The memories come back,
The hours of my youth that I gave away,
And a ghost comes from the sea
Made out of things I loved and lost.
Everything was a dream, a dream that we lost,
Like we lost the birds and the sea,
A short and ancient dream like the time
That mirrors can not reflect.
Later I tried to lose you in so many others
And that other one and all of them were you;
I finally got to recognize when a goodbye is a goodbye,
Loneliness devours me, and we were left two.
The night birds come back
They fly, blind, over the sea,
The entire night is a mirror
That brings your loneliness back to me.
I am but a lost bird
Coming back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
Evillove and the Moon
Rare, greedy recklessness of life and thieves
our eyes black holes look through
what connects them is the alien frame that frightens and bares,
all the rest is waiting, deceit, cannibalism
Tired, over domesticated animals
We play at tightrope walking,
hanging from breasts ready to be suckled
that we bite to spit milk mixed with blood, boredom and confusion
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you
and Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
Pantomime fairs of insane superstructures
We defend a mozaic of lies that
By now we don’t distinguish anymore from our skin,
Behind our face only a blind emptiness is left to be kept.
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you and
Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
The other night, my name appeared in my dream .............................
What’s Left Behind
The king-passed away, against the wind he passed away.
A sigh blew against the wind.
He didn't ever want to give up
Didn't want to become
Grey and docile, a cup of tea
Didn't want to yell, close to the border
He was the border
And wanted to play with everybody
He was called "the cardsharp".
I know that I am better than God,
He doesn't exist, but I do.
We passed the time listening
To the sound of the stars
Which were drawing cathedrals of cells
In the bottoms of our souls
Needing new lenses
To bring our ideas into focus
And to set the ideas on fire
And to learn how to run, standing still.
Let your reality explode
Then swim in the depths of what's left behind,
Let the truth explode
Then rush to drink what's left behind.
As long as the thirst was great
To leave alone the bones squeaking
And the doubt that loving is chemistry
A footprint, and then emptiness
...................
When you came at night
A thief, kissing my dreams
Remember to carry away the emptiness
that you left
That I need only a bit of room
To still love myself.
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2. |
||||
|
“According to the Greenland Inuit, the “Quigyat” auroras were the spirits of children who
died a violent death or on their birthday.
This album in war times, employs the live and studio dimension to explore the
possibilities (also compositional) offered by electronics, the same as defined by music
critic Luigi Pestalozza, Luigi Nono’s biographer, as the fruit of armament research”
Quigyat (Little Symphony for Frozen Soldiers)
Voices:
"If I were fire I would burn the opulence
that bestows such beauty
but at the expense of others."
"'Mom... where is my mum?"
"We'll explode in a scream,
to dig up the dead from the earth
And return their nameless graves to heaven."
To The Gorla’s Martyrs Statue (Requiem in Defence of Children’s Rights)
Never let the child fall
never let he fall
today let your arms be like a swing
today let your arms be like a swing
rocking sweetly
sweetly among the stars
today let the planes just be toys
today let the bombs be pins that shine shine shine shine
From today the mothers black flood have dressed all Milan
with their prams empty, empty made up as dolls,
slowly taken away like seaweed from ghosts.
All around the skyscrapers become so tall that
the subway light can't rise above like a burp toward the sky,
hanging from people's eyes always lower out of shame dressed as....
dressed as pride.
“Miserable childhood, that inside its bleakness
already can tell good from evil...
that is sleeping and will awake,
will open its eyes but to not see
too much will go back to sleep" (Hanus Hachenburg, 12.7.1929 -- Auschwitz 18.12.1943)
The Lost Birds
I love the lost birds
That come back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
The memories come back,
The hours of my youth that I gave away,
And a ghost comes from the sea
Made out of things I loved and lost.
Everything was a dream, a dream that we lost,
Like we lost the birds and the sea,
A short and ancient dream like the time
That mirrors can not reflect.
Later I tried to lose you in so many others
And that other one and all of them were you;
I finally got to recognize when a goodbye is a goodbye,
Loneliness devours me, and we were left two.
The night birds come back
They fly, blind, over the sea,
The entire night is a mirror
That brings your loneliness back to me.
I am but a lost bird
Coming back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
Evillove and the Moon
Rare, greedy recklessness of life and thieves
our eyes black holes look through
what connects them is the alien frame that frightens and bares,
all the rest is waiting, deceit, cannibalism
Tired, over domesticated animals
We play at tightrope walking,
hanging from breasts ready to be suckled
that we bite to spit milk mixed with blood, boredom and confusion
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you
and Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
Pantomime fairs of insane superstructures
We defend a mozaic of lies that
By now we don’t distinguish anymore from our skin,
Behind our face only a blind emptiness is left to be kept.
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you and
Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
The other night, my name appeared in my dream .............................
What’s Left Behind
The king-passed away, against the wind he passed away.
A sigh blew against the wind.
He didn't ever want to give up
Didn't want to become
Grey and docile, a cup of tea
Didn't want to yell, close to the border
He was the border
And wanted to play with everybody
He was called "the cardsharp".
I know that I am better than God,
He doesn't exist, but I do.
We passed the time listening
To the sound of the stars
Which were drawing cathedrals of cells
In the bottoms of our souls
Needing new lenses
To bring our ideas into focus
And to set the ideas on fire
And to learn how to run, standing still.
Let your reality explode
Then swim in the depths of what's left behind,
Let the truth explode
Then rush to drink what's left behind.
As long as the thirst was great
To leave alone the bones squeaking
And the doubt that loving is chemistry
A footprint, and then emptiness
...................
When you came at night
A thief, kissing my dreams
Remember to carry away the emptiness
that you left
That I need only a bit of room
To still love myself.
|
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3. |
03 Lòs Pàjaros Perdidos
04:58
|
|||
|
“According to the Greenland Inuit, the “Quigyat” auroras were the spirits of children who
died a violent death or on their birthday.
This album in war times, employs the live and studio dimension to explore the
possibilities (also compositional) offered by electronics, the same as defined by music
critic Luigi Pestalozza, Luigi Nono’s biographer, as the fruit of armament research”
Quigyat (Little Symphony for Frozen Soldiers)
Voices:
"If I were fire I would burn the opulence
that bestows such beauty
but at the expense of others."
"'Mom... where is my mum?"
"We'll explode in a scream,
to dig up the dead from the earth
And return their nameless graves to heaven."
To The Gorla’s Martyrs Statue (Requiem in Defence of Children’s Rights)
Never let the child fall
never let he fall
today let your arms be like a swing
today let your arms be like a swing
rocking sweetly
sweetly among the stars
today let the planes just be toys
today let the bombs be pins that shine shine shine shine
From today the mothers black flood have dressed all Milan
with their prams empty, empty made up as dolls,
slowly taken away like seaweed from ghosts.
All around the skyscrapers become so tall that
the subway light can't rise above like a burp toward the sky,
hanging from people's eyes always lower out of shame dressed as....
dressed as pride.
“Miserable childhood, that inside its bleakness
already can tell good from evil...
that is sleeping and will awake,
will open its eyes but to not see
too much will go back to sleep" (Hanus Hachenburg, 12.7.1929 -- Auschwitz 18.12.1943)
The Lost Birds
I love the lost birds
That come back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
The memories come back,
The hours of my youth that I gave away,
And a ghost comes from the sea
Made out of things I loved and lost.
Everything was a dream, a dream that we lost,
Like we lost the birds and the sea,
A short and ancient dream like the time
That mirrors can not reflect.
Later I tried to lose you in so many others
And that other one and all of them were you;
I finally got to recognize when a goodbye is a goodbye,
Loneliness devours me, and we were left two.
The night birds come back
They fly, blind, over the sea,
The entire night is a mirror
That brings your loneliness back to me.
I am but a lost bird
Coming back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
Evillove and the Moon
Rare, greedy recklessness of life and thieves
our eyes black holes look through
what connects them is the alien frame that frightens and bares,
all the rest is waiting, deceit, cannibalism
Tired, over domesticated animals
We play at tightrope walking,
hanging from breasts ready to be suckled
that we bite to spit milk mixed with blood, boredom and confusion
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you
and Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
Pantomime fairs of insane superstructures
We defend a mozaic of lies that
By now we don’t distinguish anymore from our skin,
Behind our face only a blind emptiness is left to be kept.
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you and
Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
The other night, my name appeared in my dream .............................
What’s Left Behind
The king-passed away, against the wind he passed away.
A sigh blew against the wind.
He didn't ever want to give up
Didn't want to become
Grey and docile, a cup of tea
Didn't want to yell, close to the border
He was the border
And wanted to play with everybody
He was called "the cardsharp".
I know that I am better than God,
He doesn't exist, but I do.
We passed the time listening
To the sound of the stars
Which were drawing cathedrals of cells
In the bottoms of our souls
Needing new lenses
To bring our ideas into focus
And to set the ideas on fire
And to learn how to run, standing still.
Let your reality explode
Then swim in the depths of what's left behind,
Let the truth explode
Then rush to drink what's left behind.
As long as the thirst was great
To leave alone the bones squeaking
And the doubt that loving is chemistry
A footprint, and then emptiness
...................
When you came at night
A thief, kissing my dreams
Remember to carry away the emptiness
that you left
That I need only a bit of room
To still love myself.
|
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4. |
||||
|
“According to the Greenland Inuit, the “Quigyat” auroras were the spirits of children who
died a violent death or on their birthday.
This album in war times, employs the live and studio dimension to explore the
possibilities (also compositional) offered by electronics, the same as defined by music
critic Luigi Pestalozza, Luigi Nono’s biographer, as the fruit of armament research”
Quigyat (Little Symphony for Frozen Soldiers)
Voices:
"If I were fire I would burn the opulence
that bestows such beauty
but at the expense of others."
"'Mom... where is my mum?"
"We'll explode in a scream,
to dig up the dead from the earth
And return their nameless graves to heaven."
To The Gorla’s Martyrs Statue (Requiem in Defence of Children’s Rights)
Never let the child fall
never let he fall
today let your arms be like a swing
today let your arms be like a swing
rocking sweetly
sweetly among the stars
today let the planes just be toys
today let the bombs be pins that shine shine shine shine
From today the mothers black flood have dressed all Milan
with their prams empty, empty made up as dolls,
slowly taken away like seaweed from ghosts.
All around the skyscrapers become so tall that
the subway light can't rise above like a burp toward the sky,
hanging from people's eyes always lower out of shame dressed as....
dressed as pride.
“Miserable childhood, that inside its bleakness
already can tell good from evil...
that is sleeping and will awake,
will open its eyes but to not see
too much will go back to sleep" (Hanus Hachenburg, 12.7.1929 -- Auschwitz 18.12.1943)
The Lost Birds
I love the lost birds
That come back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
The memories come back,
The hours of my youth that I gave away,
And a ghost comes from the sea
Made out of things I loved and lost.
Everything was a dream, a dream that we lost,
Like we lost the birds and the sea,
A short and ancient dream like the time
That mirrors can not reflect.
Later I tried to lose you in so many others
And that other one and all of them were you;
I finally got to recognize when a goodbye is a goodbye,
Loneliness devours me, and we were left two.
The night birds come back
They fly, blind, over the sea,
The entire night is a mirror
That brings your loneliness back to me.
I am but a lost bird
Coming back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
Evillove and the Moon
Rare, greedy recklessness of life and thieves
our eyes black holes look through
what connects them is the alien frame that frightens and bares,
all the rest is waiting, deceit, cannibalism
Tired, over domesticated animals
We play at tightrope walking,
hanging from breasts ready to be suckled
that we bite to spit milk mixed with blood, boredom and confusion
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you
and Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
Pantomime fairs of insane superstructures
We defend a mozaic of lies that
By now we don’t distinguish anymore from our skin,
Behind our face only a blind emptiness is left to be kept.
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you and
Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
The other night, my name appeared in my dream .............................
What’s Left Behind
The king-passed away, against the wind he passed away.
A sigh blew against the wind.
He didn't ever want to give up
Didn't want to become
Grey and docile, a cup of tea
Didn't want to yell, close to the border
He was the border
And wanted to play with everybody
He was called "the cardsharp".
I know that I am better than God,
He doesn't exist, but I do.
We passed the time listening
To the sound of the stars
Which were drawing cathedrals of cells
In the bottoms of our souls
Needing new lenses
To bring our ideas into focus
And to set the ideas on fire
And to learn how to run, standing still.
Let your reality explode
Then swim in the depths of what's left behind,
Let the truth explode
Then rush to drink what's left behind.
As long as the thirst was great
To leave alone the bones squeaking
And the doubt that loving is chemistry
A footprint, and then emptiness
...................
When you came at night
A thief, kissing my dreams
Remember to carry away the emptiness
that you left
That I need only a bit of room
To still love myself.
|
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5. |
05 Ciò che Rimane (2024)
09:17
|
|||
|
“According to the Greenland Inuit, the “Quigyat” auroras were the spirits of children who
died a violent death or on their birthday.
This album in war times, employs the live and studio dimension to explore the
possibilities (also compositional) offered by electronics, the same as defined by music
critic Luigi Pestalozza, Luigi Nono’s biographer, as the fruit of armament research”
Quigyat (Little Symphony for Frozen Soldiers)
Voices:
"If I were fire I would burn the opulence
that bestows such beauty
but at the expense of others."
"'Mom... where is my mum?"
"We'll explode in a scream,
to dig up the dead from the earth
And return their nameless graves to heaven."
To The Gorla’s Martyrs Statue (Requiem in Defence of Children’s Rights)
Never let the child fall
never let he fall
today let your arms be like a swing
today let your arms be like a swing
rocking sweetly
sweetly among the stars
today let the planes just be toys
today let the bombs be pins that shine shine shine shine
From today the mothers black flood have dressed all Milan
with their prams empty, empty made up as dolls,
slowly taken away like seaweed from ghosts.
All around the skyscrapers become so tall that
the subway light can't rise above like a burp toward the sky,
hanging from people's eyes always lower out of shame dressed as....
dressed as pride.
“Miserable childhood, that inside its bleakness
already can tell good from evil...
that is sleeping and will awake,
will open its eyes but to not see
too much will go back to sleep" (Hanus Hachenburg, 12.7.1929 -- Auschwitz 18.12.1943)
The Lost Birds
I love the lost birds
That come back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
The memories come back,
The hours of my youth that I gave away,
And a ghost comes from the sea
Made out of things I loved and lost.
Everything was a dream, a dream that we lost,
Like we lost the birds and the sea,
A short and ancient dream like the time
That mirrors can not reflect.
Later I tried to lose you in so many others
And that other one and all of them were you;
I finally got to recognize when a goodbye is a goodbye,
Loneliness devours me, and we were left two.
The night birds come back
They fly, blind, over the sea,
The entire night is a mirror
That brings your loneliness back to me.
I am but a lost bird
Coming back from death
To blend in with a sky
Where I will never be able to get back.
Evillove and the Moon
Rare, greedy recklessness of life and thieves
our eyes black holes look through
what connects them is the alien frame that frightens and bares,
all the rest is waiting, deceit, cannibalism
Tired, over domesticated animals
We play at tightrope walking,
hanging from breasts ready to be suckled
that we bite to spit milk mixed with blood, boredom and confusion
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you
and Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
Pantomime fairs of insane superstructures
We defend a mozaic of lies that
By now we don’t distinguish anymore from our skin,
Behind our face only a blind emptiness is left to be kept.
Ashen moon you shine without hiding your veil
Letting my rain wash you and
Not holding your breath
Drop of glass reflects you now
Your every longing of light
Not scared of knowing you anymore
Shattering into a thousand drops of wrath
The other night, my name appeared in my dream .............................
What’s Left Behind
The king-passed away, against the wind he passed away.
A sigh blew against the wind.
He didn't ever want to give up
Didn't want to become
Grey and docile, a cup of tea
Didn't want to yell, close to the border
He was the border
And wanted to play with everybody
He was called "the cardsharp".
I know that I am better than God,
He doesn't exist, but I do.
We passed the time listening
To the sound of the stars
Which were drawing cathedrals of cells
In the bottoms of our souls
Needing new lenses
To bring our ideas into focus
And to set the ideas on fire
And to learn how to run, standing still.
Let your reality explode
Then swim in the depths of what's left behind,
Let the truth explode
Then rush to drink what's left behind.
As long as the thirst was great
To leave alone the bones squeaking
And the doubt that loving is chemistry
A footprint, and then emptiness
...................
When you came at night
A thief, kissing my dreams
Remember to carry away the emptiness
that you left
That I need only a bit of room
To still love myself.
|
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Claudio Milano Milan, Italy
Speleologist/climber of the voice, designer of sonic geometries for theater/performance/dance/installations, Claudio Milano is also a teacher, music therapist, actor, performer and illustrator. From 2004 since today he published several albums, 3 of which double, two DVDs and he performed with some of the greatest world musicians in the fields: classic, rock, jazz, ethno, avant-garde, pop... ... more
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