Swivelable: Recent Episodes
Lliam Greguez
Lliam Greguez is a macro ice photographer who captures freezing moments of a mountain stream and a creative arts therapist who, before C-19, used music to engage chronically ill children in five hospitals around New York City.
He also unlooses his experimental tendencies with five albums - a pair of Acoustic, a pair of Electric, and one Ambient.
The acoustics are: Other People’s Children in English and La Yola in Spanish, the latter written by Dominican artist Luis Días. Each showcase uptempo acoustic music that could be labeled anti-pop with a unique essence accompanied by deliberative lyrics.
Then the two rock albums also contain one by Luis Días and one by the trio "Any of Several Weasels" reveling in the electric guitar sound. Luis' album is driven by Caribbean rhythms, while AoSW fuses punk and progressive.
Meanwhile, the "Look of Utter Disbelief" explores synth, sampling, and guitar improvisations.
Be sure to check out Lliam's website for a taste of his ice photography and stories from working with hospitalized children.
Written for a family whose child has a medical problem, and because they were poor were were wrongly accused of it being the mother's fault. They battled the courts for four years. He recently passed on from brainstem neurodegenerative disease that he had when the nightmare began. Mayo Clinic now has his brain for research as his condition was so rare.
You can find the tracks he made here: https://soundcloud.com/ourvoiceisking/tracks
She’s a single mother with a very low income He’s an eight year old who knows there’s nothing that he’s done To be torn from his mother, his sisters and his brother It’s the only life he knew and he loved it like not other
But you don’t give up, you don’t give up, you don’t give up, or give in You know; you don’t give up, you don’t give up, you don’t give up, or give in
We’re always thinking of you Aaron, you’re always on our mind We know your lonely, you know we love you all the time How can some strangers say what’s good for you or I There’s one who knows best, look in the child’s eye
The world is crumbling round me, its in a dizzy spin With all I see and hear, my heart is full and breaking I could end up on a mountain top or in a deep prison But I know I never, never give up or give in
But we won't give up, we won't give up, we won't give up, or give in You know; we won't give up, we won't give up, we won't give up, or give in
Lliam - Steel string acoustic John Asrelsky: bass, Carol Thomas: vocals Pepito Pareja : Chirango, Malcom Howard: Banjo Barred Owl of the mountians
Soft as sunshine on the outside, Resilient, strong within. You're the warmth that makes it alright, You're delight is my heaven.
Joy when we're together
With life you are connected, You feel earths' pulse and beat. Neither of us perfect, but with you I am complete.
Other People's Children - The Lliam, Malcolm, Beva Trio. This one recorded and mixed by Mike Grace
They found me in a noodle factory up on planet Pluto They couldn’t figure what to do they thought I was a noodle So they hung me up and hosed me down enough to make a worm ill but just before my eyes caved in she said life’s not that futile
I understand the sadness buried deep beneath your eyes gets in the way takes up space there’s too much else to occupy I got it too I feel it’s terror well beneath my breast and when it rears its ugly head we’ll crush the buggy fest
What is it that turns my head and makes my eyes to stare into this piercing silence cant you speak if you are there too many noodles not enough salt the butter’s disappeared I get the feeling it’ll never be right and then she grabs my ear
Sure seems that way. So every little bit of love given or gotten helps. Another one recorded live.
It’s not working out, just not working out Getting nowhere, so why should I care Can’t take what you give me, Can’t get what I need Don’t want to be lonely, I got to succeed Don’t seem like living, don’t feel like nothing I sure need your loving, sure need your loving.
How many times, how many times Do I have to, do I have to Put my finger to my head And pull the trigger, pull the trigger Seems like it’s always come tomorrow And never enough, no never enough This is enough
Lliam Chad and Malcolm energized by why we judge others on their shine rather than their depth
You been told Fear the stranger, his offer’s in greed now you can’t get near for the hugs you need.
You been told It’s all in your hair it’s all in your smile It’s all in my head, I can’t take much more style.
You been fighting Against existence, and you lost Fighting for a grasp But you know what comes out of that ass.
Stay away you keep coming back You must like this contortion wrack Wrench the gut, drain the pump Slosh the brain, take a dump Fuck your panties, that’s enough
We can’t clean up this mess on our own:
Was rudely awakened by a cockroach at 3 am Chewing on the map over my head Maybe he wanted to check out the Russian scene Now he lies dead under my bed
I wonder how he’ll stay there I wonder how long he’ll stay I wonder how long till you come back here
It must have been a good good day Or maybe I was feeling extra mean Stomped and swatted 3 or 4 more Plump juicy turned to squashed and lean
I wonder how they’ll stay there I wonder how long they’ll stay I wonder how long till you come back here
Lliam, Chad, Malcolm, & Gary A quick weekend at Inner Ear Studio. Recorded & mixed by Don Zientara Mastering by Tom Scheponik at The SoundLAB
You knew it well a long time ago But you didn’t know where to go So you lowered your standards and got it where you could And you’re no longer looking in the places that you should
Trying to feel satisfied Its emptiness won’t let you survive Deceiving yourselves by its lie
And it’s trying to pull me in, do me in, ruin my life. But there’s no-one there to really care, no comfort in sight.
Sure, some gave away their innocence But from most it was taken before they had a chance for defense The air waves push it, try to fill our minds with lust Until the people can only say “I must!”
The desire is taking control Manipulating your soul as it leaves you in the cold
And still today you know there’s something more Ahh it feels so good, no need for real rapport It moves, it sees, it knows, it does its bit Touching those who touch it, the meaning of a cynic.
What could be better than this? Nothingness and bliss.
Lliam, Chad, Malcolm & Gary bemoaning how impossible it is to become one of the fortunate
Where do you think you want to go Ain’t no place, no-one to know looking for a chance to find your spot that little chance of hope is all you got.
There’s something strange going on round here, Looking for love, all you can find is fear
It’s a two-edged sword, every day everything’s fine, nothing’s ok Don’t tell me you want to when you know that you can’t Don’t say you have to When you won’t take the chance
Lliam, Chad, Malcolm, & Gary A quick weekend at Inner Ear Studio. Recorded & mixed by Don Zientara Mastering by Tom Scheponik at The SoundLAB
I come to you cause you hold out your hand Imagination took its toll of the plan And then returning with the promise of more Again to leave without its reward.
Just a lure
Give me unyielding truth, the depth beyond the deep the light that never sleeps. No desperation, no dissipation A see through situation.
So you know desire’s in my heart This dangling brightness could sure tear me apart Delight in seeing didn’t say what’s in store I want I take and I don’t know what for.
Can’t help love the surface it’s a marvelous thing To see the distant sky and yet breath the air it brings Take this lie dissected or leave its despair Find the waters edge and climb out right there.
Times too often what's done has to be re-done and there seems like no moving forward. Nice to have friends and community in such occurrences.
Live trio - Lliam, Chad & Malcolm
Oh Yea, I get it - it’s bowling time. Set them up to knock them down Your balls on the line.
That’s a comfy rug, looks might good Step right on what you get Your ass one the wood
This life is geared as give and take The subsequent shatter comes with every break
Cruelty speaks, the offer beguiles Meant to pass on only Meberance of smiles
I’ll take what I can get, enjoy while I can Before times steals away the final demand.
I’ll make you. so glad you Asked me, oh ask me No need to, go on through past me, don’t pass me by.
It’s so good, It’s so fine Works out right, down the line Know this love, by it’s call Draw near now, and have it all!
I know who you are, I know what you need I got what you want, don’t be deceived Leaving behind, the curses claim Taking hold of what remains.
Mary is the driving force behind our previous release "Elephant Fly" She penned these lyrics which inspired Lliam, Chad and Malcolm to interpret them with their typical bizarre energy.
Door Through Music step sharper me riding your clef face bleeding a song I ran wired twirling tongue crawled
don’t ask me to sing shame to crack the glassed webbing spit teeth into roses thorned my nose with the scent of dancers
Gershwin, Gershwin
Lliam, Chad, Malcolm & Gary reveling in the artistry that nature is.
Thru tunnels of tower towards starlight trees Creating a canopy of effervescent green On to marshland by the sea Where egrets glide to green grassed waters unseen
Mimicking cry from branches beyond Answering warbling wren's plaintive song Next to you is where I belong But when I get there I find that you've gone
Cascading crescendo from crevasses high On cloud fluffed mountains water whirls down by Fields and meadows gaze at sun soaked sky They speak of answers but don't ask why
What are you are you (saying/insane) Could it be (are you /cause you're) speaking to me Must be the artist's artist It's living living calligraphy
Lliam, Chad & Rich pounding it out.
Bones Well she’s really kind of quiet cause she’s got so much going on inside of her And she never needs to diet cause she’s got so much going for the rest of her
They call her Bones, cause she’s been through a lot. They call her Bones, tho she’s really not And she’s looking for a love that will never let her go
She likes the summer cause the sky is so blue and the beach so hot And the sun shines upon her, wanting to put a new song in her heart
The 'Any of Several Weasels' electric (Lliam) version with drums (Chad) replacing the percussion and the second acoustic switched to a bass (Malcolm). Check out my post from 2 yr ago for the acoustic/synth version called "OPC - That Sound"
That sound; solemn and desperate. The determination of man; relentlessly stubborn. Call it the waves crashing or the pitiless sand.
You get what you want and it's nothing at all. Still you find yourself waiting all over again. If there's nothing worth waking for there's nothing at all.
Took too long today, took too long these past ten years. Not that we're in any hurry, just should have been there already. Fucked up makes fucked up if you are or if you're not.
You get to the point where the influx of things that go right have got to pile up good before there's a turn of the tide. Wanting the hope real of immunity other than death.
While elephants in the wild need our support, there are deranged elephants, in Washington and other cities around the world, stomping the life out of this earth and poisoning our families. Become a fly - let your voice be heard. Stand against the deceit and corruption.
Mary - Expression, Lliam - Guitar, Chad - Drums, Rich - Bass, Zoid - Atmosphere
Elephant Poem - Judy Grahn
Suppose you have an elephant with 56 millimeter trunk and say he’s tearing up the jungle (say you think he’s drunk or crazy) How’re you going to bring that elephant down? lion can’t bear could but don’t want to and the panther’s too small for that job.
Then suppose you have an elephant with a million millimeter trunk and his jungle is the whole green world? (and he’s drunk and crazy) you see the problem.
one more word about elephants No matter how hard they try elephants cannot pick their noses any more than bankers can hand out money or police put away their pistols or politicians get right with God.
a sty in the elephant’s eye aint nothing but a fly in his nose is a serious if not fatal condition when the fly gets into that nostril it begins to swell and stay closed he can’t smell can’t drink can’t think can’t get one up on anybody he beings to regret all that flabby ammunition hanging on him
he begins to wish he’d been a little more bare-faced like an ape or a fish all those passageways he needs to feed himself tied up ELEPHANT TURNED UPSIDE DOWN by a fly a million flies outweigh a trunk a tank a bank a million flies outthink a pile of IBM junk
we must be wise to the elephant’s lies you may think we should try to sober him up but the trouble isn’t that he’s drunk the trouble is that he’s an elephant with a multi-millimeter trunk who believes the world is his jungle and until he dies he grows and grows we must be flies in the elephant’s nose ready to carry on in every town you know there are butterflies there are horse flies and house flies blue flies, shoo flies and it’s-not- true flies then there are may flies and wood flies but I’m talking about can flies & do flies bottle flies, rock flies and sock flies dragonflies and fireflies in the elephant’s nose ready to carry on til he goes down
An 80 minute sound immersion with pools, falls, and birds of a Catskill Mtn stream. In early summer there are enough rocks sticking out so walking up it is possible, as the stream has settled from its spring torrent and not yet disappeared into the occasional pools left from a hot dry August. The water is delightfully cold and feels wonderful when splashed on the arms and face.
Staying dry in a pounding rainstorm is a quite comfortable feeling. I am very fortunate to live in a corner of the world where rising temperatures are coupled with precipitation, where the trees still hold the land intact, and the slope keeps the water moving.
This is the second in a series of extended water environs. It is a short section of Thunder and Heavy Rain. It's available for download for whenever you want to feel enveloped in some rainy woods. The full recording of this storm is 99 minutes.
An uptempo version of Syd Barrett's song which was released as a single (being condensed to 3 minutes), then banned for its being " too far removed from "normal" society". Later It was released on the compilation "Relics"
Two guitars and a bass celebrating a hot bath at the end of a journey. The instrumentation & delivery may be slightly different from Peregrin's original version.
Just before the light returns small forms of life scurry, preparing for the prying eyes out there watching for edible movements.
An experimental jam with Lliam & Beva on Juno106 and Malcolm on Percs
Electric guitar and palo driven World music where Caribbean punk meets hard rock with socially charged lyrics
Earth is a reservation we share, but it takes cooperation, not denigration.
Native reservation Letra y música: Luis Días Acoustic tribute: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rz2HZX4tDFA
You been so bad with me that I don't want it to be your neighbor or call you brother You been so bad with me that I don't want it to walk your street or drink your water
Native reservation we are we are living in New York city but you never wonder why Looking for solutions we are but you never listen to me you are the one with the burro heart but you never listen to the music
you've been so cynical that I don't want it to bend my knee to pray no more people is going crazy but you don't care you have your guns your jails your orders
Native reservation we are you're killing our fight for freedom everywhere Looking for solutions we are you're killing our fight for freedom everywhere and I need to be alive. Oh! but the sun someday will shine but the sun someday will shine
Luis and Lliam live on WNYC radio
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rz2HZX4tDFA with Yasser Tejeda
Native reservation Letra y música: Luis Días
You been so bad with me that I don't want it to be your neighbor or call you brother You been so bad with me that I don't want it to walk your street or drink your water
Native reservation we are we are living in New York city but you never wonder why Looking for solutions we are but you never listen to me you are the one with the burro heart but you never listen to the music
you've been so cynical that I don't want it to bend my knee to pray no more people is going crazy but you don't care you have your guns your jails your orders
Native reservation we are you're killing our fight for freedom everywhere Looking for solutions we are you're killing our fight for freedom everywhere and I need to be alive. Oh! but the sun someday will shine but the sun someday will shine
Acoustic guitar, Upright Bass & various Samples. Percussion is actual rhythms of a stream dripping.
Amazingly they did ban cars from the park in June 2018
Got to keep the cars out of Central Park Cause life can't breathe fumes. Got to stop relying on fuels that exhaust And you can't start too soon.
I would rather breathe Gas from leaves Than fumes of cars, incinerators and factories
Outside my window; blowing horns, burning gas. Inside my window; plug your ears and wear a mask.
Two acoustic guitars, some synth doodling and a bit of percussion.
THAT 'SOUND SUCKS ALL THE FUN OUT OF WAKING' That sound; solemn and desperate. The determination of man; relentlessly stubborn. Call it the waves crashing or the pitiless sand.
You get what you want and it's nothing at all. Still you find yourself waiting all over again. If there's nothing worth waking for there's nothing at all.
Took too long today, took too long these past ten years. Not that we're in any hurry, just should have been there already. Fucked up makes fucked up if you are or if you're not.
You get to the point where the influx of things that go right have got to pile up good before there's a turn of the tide. Wanting the hope real of immunity other than death.
Buanna : Luis Días
¡Buanna! ¡Bueno Tiá, su misé! ¡Buanna! ¿cómo tan su misé? Son to ra mi negree mise llorando ra muiete pú tú ro camino, ¡guay, guay! ar negrito moragueró ro moto ra pinga y io rengue una cancioncita
buanna! Canta kumino ¡o yeah! buanna Rambe ra pinga ¡o yeah!
Dame mi cafecito por la mañana que me voy
¡Buanna! ¿cómo tan su misé? ¡Buanna! bueno riá su misé Son to ra mi negree mise llerandó ra muite pú tú ro camino, ¡guay, guay! al negrito moragueró ro moto ra pinga y io rengue una cancioncita
buanna! Canta kumino ¡o yeah! buanna Rambe ra pinga ¡o yeah!
Dame mi cafecito por la mañana que me voy
Baila Nicola Baila Nicola dende
Luis on a Gibson Acoustic, Lliam on a Veillette Baritone 12 string
Vuelca la yipeta, las aguas negras retumba el tambor, en la frontera la yipeta busca muertos de la esquina atrévete a andar por la isla
¿para qué le venden más gasolina? ¿para qué le venden su medicina?
de ambos lados el mismos dictador de ambos lados el mismos dictador
un deseño americano una cruz de cuervos da luz a una tumba todo da un cuartel en la negrura la yipeta busca muertos de la esquina atrévete a andar por la isla
¿para qué le venden más gasolina? ¿para qué le venden su medicina?
de ambos lados el mismos dictador de ambos lados el mismos dictador
la canión del pobre se conoce hey ombe, heh ombe, hey! porque siempre habla de esclavos hey ombe, heh ombe la mujer del pobre se conoce hey ombe, heh ombe, hey! porque siempre anda rompiá Hey ombe, heh ombe!
Luis y Lliam live on WNYC El Accidente Letra y música: Luis Días
Fito sufró un accidente en la avenida principal que lo tuvo casi al borde de la muerte huyendo de la presencia escondida de un radar se salió de los linderos y dio vueltas cuando volvió a su cabeza todo parecía normal se quiso limpiar el polvo de su t-shirt
su cráneo era una vitrina llena de rayas y trazos por los golpes contundentes recibidos aunque a Joe no le imporara ni tampoco lo sintiera la radio seguía encendida
y la gente se acercaba para ver el accidente un carro militar hacía rudos la gente comentaba inquieta donde hangueaba hacían un interrogatorio brutal y siniestro miró el retrovisor y tras una barba verde lloraba Cristo o Kurt Cobain donde hubo mar quedaban piscinas donde hubo bares solo verjas donde hubo multitudes calles vacías.
Mixing up the drums, adding electric guitar for lead. With children voices and keyboard on top of the Acoustic. One of my do everything constructs.
Where do they get it from? They get it from us. Why do they do these things? They learn them from us. How do the children know how to hate, who to hate? They're watching us. How do the children know how to love, who to love? They're watching us. They're watching, and waiting, and wondering, and wanting. How do the children know, They're learning from us.
Insight from MoNH, and Bronx zoo. A steel string, nylon string, synthesizer and some percussion celebrating one of the most magnificent animals on earth. Band called Other Peoples Children.
Elephants; they eat plants. It makes no sense why we can't advance. Beyond the greed that dooms them, we should leave some room for the elephants.
Waterhole's a must. When the water's all gone; dig with those tusks. Bring the water on. Lots of creatures of the land depending on the elephant.
Elephants in a family. Tusks are for defense, not for mans' vanity. Every piece of ivory that you buy pulls their teeth, makes em die!
Elephants, walk on tipytoe Gentle and magnificent, mighty when they bellow. Silently they go their way listening for friends far away.
Face of joviality, cheeks you wannna hug. Each such personality, stifled without love. Here's a creature who's mighty glad for a place like earth to stomp its pad.
Malcolm on nylon & Lliam on steel string Acoustics, Dave Edwards on Bass. Written by Malcolm Lucard
I am the hummingbird, I quiver by your bed. There is a flower there, growing baby, baby inside your head.
I am the rocking chair, gonna rock you all night long. Gonna hold you in my arms, lean you back, rock and roll you baby till the break of dawn.
I am the alcohol, stirring inside your drink. Gonna get to your heart, get to your mind, bubble in your blood, baby no matter what you think.
Malcolm on nylon & Lliam on steel string Acoustics, Beva on Perc . Written by Malcolm Lucard Recorded by Mike Grace
In a beatup barrio of bricks & linoleum down by the locked up water Dirty Eddie & the coffee brewing of a young unwed daughter The police & the drug lords of Panama City were snoring When nana heard the helicopters, tanks & troops scream by the door As the first explosions of dawn caught fire on the roof She ran to the window but the word she heard were foreign Dulce Et Decorum Est, Pro patria mori
Bullets bolted the doors on the poor peoples part of town Beat out to the streets by flames where they were instantly run down Joan of Arc would’ve been proud to see them jump from the second story Dulce Et Decorum Est, Pro patria mori Sweet & noble it is to die for your country but the first strike attack is always meaningless oratory Dulce Et Decorum Est, Pro patria mori Yea ya think you’re really brave, you’re a soldier & a fighter I’ve seen bombs make your M16s seem like a cigarette lighter
In Medellín they missed the general, but they killed 300 more Innocents where the bus to kingdom come sometimes pulls out without warning So up and coming coke addicts could maintain their sick euphoria The button pressed a nation of hope began to rise screaming ramparts anthems of addiction soared across the sky South America shuddered as the rain started falling Dulce Et Decorum Est, Pro patria mori Sweet & noble it is to die for your country But there’s no time for honor in this upped up allegory Dulce Et Decorum Est, Pro patria mori
OPC is Lliam Steel string, voc, Malcolm - Nylon string, voc, John - Bass, Beva - percussion Recorded live to 2-track
The waters of Long Island Sound were home and life to me I'd fish on gentle buoyant swells rake oyster from the sea clams I'd dig from the muddy shore where kingfishers were angling A seaweed coast on the Island of Shells called Seawahakie.
And you can see the sun sparkle on the water waters that give life to everything around The marsh lands and bays are a heritage that nurtures the deep quiet waters of the Long Island sound.
This arm of the Atlantic Ocean glaciers dug 20 miles wide The Quinipiac, Connecticut, and Housatonic flow into its tides From the river called East to Orient Point; 110 as the seagull flies For 5,000 years cared for by the Delaware tribe.
Now the harbors are becoming lifeless liquid poison Our wastes breed bacteria which suck up the oxygen Toxics dumped by industry or plastic dropped by one person It's a life supporting body or a dead sea question
My life is filled with gull cries and a constant muffled pounding swoosh Music that is passed by in a modern rush and push Don't forget how we're dependent on the health of plants and fish If we take care of the waters rejoicing in its gifts.
The stream was dripping off a strand of moss into a drop sized hole, each drip replacing the last with a varying amount of water, creating phrases with changing pitch.
Taylor guitar recorded in a round castle tower. Samples from the mountain, including the Barred Owl. Hope and Janice added backgrounds to the bass and perc. Can't wait to go back and sit in that knarly pine. Also on track: Vanessa Walters: Dümbek, Dave Edwards: bass Hope Johnson:vocals, Janice Marie Johnson:vocals Birds of the woods
I cannot speak my mind is tied With thoughts and dreams and hopes untried. From a gnarly pine on a mountain high Nothin out there but countryside
My dream would be to go where I will, To walk where I want, to try any hill. But fences keep me sitting still It's mine, stay away, the voice is shrill
What I say would be half a truth, Too many parts, too aloof. There's me and them and us and you, But the shields are up, there's no getting through.
Nobody knows the culture we missed We traded for things with lies and tricks. When we could have been learning this lands' ways We thought we knew it all so we walk in a haze.
OPC is Lliam Steel string, voc, Malcolm - Nylon string, voc, John - Bass, Beva - percussion Recorded live to 2-track
It makes no sense trying to balance my head The heart runs cold, the mind has lost control Hunger, reaching out beyond reach Frustration is all that's left to eat Makes a whole lot of difference and no difference at all When you're reaching for the high place, and all you do is fall
Is this a joke or a curse gone wild In truth no hope, dreams that pass in a while Hunger, reaching out beyond reach Frustration is all that's left to eat Sucked on in and left without Time to take the plunge, or stumble on in doubt
You alone are left and it's either or or Big deal, does it matter at all Hunger, reaching out beyond reach Frustration is all that's left to eat Desires and perceptions got me tangled up inside I've gone through the gamut, is there one place left to hide?
La Yola - Two acoustic guitars and vocals.
La yola se va La yola se va y te deja la yola rodando po el suelo y se va y se va y se va la yola y se va
En un botao yo la arreglé le di asá por toda parte de noche y de día también Por eso me mataron a mi me asesinaron entonces ya no quiero que me vuelvan a matar woy woy
La tierra e pa sembrala dijo Tingó la tierra es de nosotros dijo Tingó