Вышло 1-го апреля: "Rowan Cradle" (Hardstyle/Lullaby/Celtic Folk Fusion): персона/исполнитель: Кес Мира. Та самая экстремальная колыбельная с весьма успокаивающим текстом.

Слова

Hush ye noo, the rowan bends,

Berries red where the dark path ends,

Twig an' thread abune yer heid,

Naething foul shall cross this bed.

Wind may batter, rain may ca',

Fae may whisper through the wa',

But the rowan hauds its airm,

Cradle safe frae ilka harm.

Roon an' roon the berry ring,

Hear the branch abune ye sing,

Auld as hills an' strang as stane,

Rowan brings the bairn back hame.

Stars may dance in cauld black skies,

Lanterns flicker, shadows rise,

But the cradle winna shake,

Rowan guards till mornin' break.

Sleep, my jo, the rowan hauds,

Through the storm an' through the cauld,

Thread is tied an' charm is sung,

Safe ye'll bide till day is young.

Doon the glen the foxes creep,

Owls keep watch while bairns sleep,

Naething stirs the rowan's keep,

Hush ye noo, an' dream sae deep.

Hush... ye... noo...

===== Перейти к комментариям

"Equal Ground" и "Four Voices" (2026-03-28)

Вышло 28-го марта: "Four Voices" (Folk/Rap): персона/исполнитель: Камаскера Камадан. Рэп-повествования о начале событий романа "Встреча" с точки зрения исполнителя.

Вышло 29-го марта: "Equal Ground" (R&B/Trap): персона/исполнитель: Кес Мира. Рассказ о том, что равноденствие — лучший момент встретиться с прошлым и указать ему на дверь... или же принять и растворить.

===== Перейти к комментариям

Модель v5.5 (2026-03-28)

Модель Суно v5.5 действительно интересна — прежде всего, качеством. Больше вариативности в голосе, чуть меньше фантазии в инструментальной части, лучше баланс.

Помимо этого, возможность сделать персону из своего голоса — не по стилистическим параметрам, а именно по тембру и спектру в целом. Там довольно сложный подход — записать образчик а потом ещё "наговорить" при его загрузке, чтобы сервис сопоставил и убедился, что вы не пытаетесь использовать чужой голос.

Ниже пример того, как звучит персона, синтезированная из моего голоса (Tash Maleen). Трек, намеренно сложный и со множеством разных вариаций вокруг голоса, сделан сути "на коленке", и он намеренно очень "шумный" (gothic punk industrial).

Мой голос, почти без искажений, звучит после 1:09 ("She rearranges all the stories...").

Cyber Style — Glass Throne

Your browser does not support the audio tag.

===== Перейти к комментариям

Итоги первого месяца (2026-03-21)

Итоги первого месяца пребывания на отечественных стриминговых площадках.

Треков опубликовано: 12 (стадия "посева" заканчивается в середине апреля), в расписании (ожидание публикации): 16, наработано и частично/полностью готово к публикации: >200.

Максимальное число прослушиваний в сутки >400, всего за месяц >1200.

Наилучшее место в ежедневном топ-списке Яндекс.Музыки: 60.

Думаю, старт вполне удовлетворительный. Пятёрка треков с наибольшим количеством прослушиваний (на момент написания текста):

Трек

Персона

Жанр(ы)

Число прослушиваний

Ссылки

Glass Lantern Vigil

Alice Payne

Phonk/Gothic Choir

601

ЯМ VKM

Confetti

Alice Payne

Pop/Alternative

103

ЯМ VKM

The Keeper Raising Cup

Kamaskera Kamadan

World/Isicathamiya

ЯМ VKM

The Mirror At The Bar

Alice Payne

Cabaret/Pop

ЯМ VKM

Hermit And Sparrows

Wilds sisters

Ballad/Folk

ЯМ VKM

Едем дальше.

===== Перейти к комментариям

Песня равноденствия (2026-03-19)

Завтра (20-го марта) равноденствие. Соответственно, как можно оставить такое без песни?

Twa Lichts, opus 2744

Your browser does not support the audio tag.

Слова

The licht is layin doon its heid

Across the fields whaur crows tak flicht

The shaddaes stretch tae meet the sun

Twa lichts, twa lichts, this equinox nicht

Chorus:

Twa lichts, twa worlds, ayn breath between

The veil sae thin ye'd swear it's gaen

Twa lichts, twa worlds, ayn breath between

The wee sister o the storm returns again

The same auld fields but silver-green

The corn moves slaw against the wind

I hear her voice through forty year

O sister mine, the licht is thinned

Chorus.

The balance tips, the spring comes in

The ither licht draws back its hand

But still I feel it through the wall

The ither world, the ither land

Chorus.

The equinox is by. But I can feel the ither licht, yet.

===== Перейти к комментариям

Чеширский Кот и экстремальная колыбельная (2026-03-16)

Немного нового от сестёр. Ждём и второй трек на отечественных площадках...

Алиса размышляет о Чеширском Коте (ЯМ — Grins):

Grins, opus 2723

Rowan Cradle, opus 2734

Your browser does not support the audio tag.

Слова

Grinnin' from the treetop got me twisted outta place,

Fadin' into nothin', then it's right up in my face.

Follow where it leads me — might be left, might be right,

Every turn, every corner got the shadows runnin' tight.

Chorus:

Grins in the dark, they be bendin' my mind,

Floatin' past the branches, then they vanish behind.

Spin around in the madness, don't know what is real,

Alice in the wonder chasin' grins she can't feel.

Teeth without a body floatin' over where I stand,

Vanishin' from tail to head like lines drawn in the sand.

Guessin' if it's friendly, if it's leadin' me astray,

Cat got my world spinnin', grinnin' night away.

Chorus.

Questions wide, doubts immense — which direction am I seekin'?

Every grin just bends the lens, every path the world is tweakin'.

Dreams be whirlin', schemes be swirlin', mind is spun and overfull,

One grin fades to nothin', one just leaves me wonder-full.

Curious but cautious, every grin a brand new maze,

In this world of wonder where the paths don't match the gaze.

Am I the same Alice when I find my way back home?

Or a stranger, ever-wanderin', lost where mad things roam?

Chorus.

Will I be the same nice Alice... when the grin has finally gone?

Экстремальная колыбельная:

Rowan Cradle, opus 2734

Your browser does not support the audio tag.

Слова

Hush ye noo, the rowan bends,

Berries red where the dark path ends,

Twig an' thread abune yer heid,

Naething foul shall cross this bed.

Wind may batter, rain may ca',

Fae may whisper through the wa',

But the rowan hauds its airm,

Cradle safe frae ilka harm.

Roon an' roon the berry ring,

Hear the branch abune ye sing,

Auld as hills an' strang as stane,

Rowan brings the bairn back hame.

Stars may dance in cauld black skies,

Lanterns flicker, shadows rise,

But the cradle winna shake,

Rowan guards till mornin' break.

Sleep, my jo, the rowan hauds,

Through the storm an' through the cauld,

Thread is tied an' charm is sung,

Safe ye'll bide till day is young.

Doon the glen the foxes creep,

Owls keep watch while bairns sleep,

Naething stirs the rowan's keep,

Hush ye noo, an' dream sae deep.

Hush... ye... noo...

===== Перейти к комментариям

Галлюцинации — в массы, каждый день! (2026-03-07)

Методика "кавер от кавера" работает и дальше, на основе невнятных галлюцинаций с интересной музыкой удаётся строить вполне нормальные треки, ещё один пример ниже.

Every Day, opus 2722

Исходная галлюцинация (Every Day, opus 2426)

Your browser does not support the audio tag.

Every Day, opus 2722

Your browser does not support the audio tag.

Слова

1. When I stood alone, I was never close enough to feel the warmth, to hear from you

What I meant to say, it would never cross the glass between our worlds, to carry through

Every day

Whatever I could say was left too late

Lost in the crossing

I have built a silence we can never break away

I can feel it fading

Every day

In unfamiliar ways I search for you

Drifting through mirrors

I have built a silence we can never break away

I can feel it fading

2. Where I left the door, it was closing on the echo of a world that we once knew

All I used to keep, it would shatter like the glass beneath the steps I took from you

Every day

Whatever I could say was left too late

Lost in the crossing

I have built a silence we can never break away

I can feel it fading

Every day

In unfamiliar ways I search for you

Drifting through mirrors

I have built a silence we can never break away

I can feel it fading

===== Перейти к комментариям

Alice Payne — Every Street (2026-02-28)

Трек вышел 28-го февраля на отечественных площадках (пример: Yandex.Music — Every Street.

Финальный трек в OST романа "The Failed Star" цикла "Встреча"/"The Gathering".

Alice Payne — Every Street, opus 2701

Your browser does not support the audio tag.

Слова

1. Every street becomes a garden,

Lazy ways to greet the morning,

Past the gates to find directions,

Where the sparrows teach us patience,

Carry songs from me to morning,

Such a gorgeous revelation,

To discover new sensations,

To pursue these fleeting moments.

Chorus:

And you beside me,

For a while, it's true,

Since this life can be a treasure,

When the light belongs to you.

2. Tapping rhythms on the railing,

Making music from the pavement,

Through the dust and through the laughter,

Where the echoes find each other,

Leave the worry for tomorrow,

Such a simple celebration,

To remember one another,

To continue what we've started.

Chorus.

Every street becomes a garden,

Lazy ways to greet the morning,

Past the gates to find directions,

Where the sparrows teach us patience.

Ниже в скрытом состоянии соответствующий фрагмент романа.

Фрагмент романа "The Failed Star"

Kate stood. Her smile came easily — the smile that had been buried for years under the canvas bag and the silence and the grid.

"This is Margaret, my friend, and her husband Mark. They married today."

"Congratulations!" Alice and the Wilds said together, the word overlapping in three voices.

Margaret's face coloured. She looked at Kate, then at the musicians, then back.

"Kate says you can make a song out of anything. Any line."

Alice set down her coffee. "We can. Say a line, Margaret."

Margaret's flush deepened. She opened her mouth. Closed it.

Mark leaned in. "Every street..." He looked at his wife. "Well... becomes..."

"A garden!" Margaret laughed. The sound was bright and uncontrolled. "Will that do?"

"Perfectly." Alice stood. She looked at Kate. "Come on. You and me. Let us make their song."

Kate returned to the piano. Alice spoke to the other musicians — the drummer, the guitar player, the one with the saxophone. Quick words, a key, a nod from each. Alice took the electric guitar from the stand beside the stage. She settled the strap across her shoulder with the practiced ease of someone who had handled instruments in drawing rooms and concert halls and phases between.

Kate played. Slowly at first — the opening phrase finding its shape, the chords testing themselves against the words. Then the melody coalesced. Alice's guitar entered with an arpeggiated passage that belonged to a Gothic cathedral, each note ringing against the Tindaloo's low ceiling.

Alice sang. The opera voice filled the room without overwhelming the piano — controlled, pitched to complement rather than dominate, the Victorian power held at three-quarter.

Every street becomes a garden,

Lazy ways to greet the morning,

Past the gates to find directions,

Where the sparrows teach us patience...

The cafe went still. Cups stopped halfway to mouths. Philip's cloth hung in his hand.

Carry songs from me to morning,

Such a gorgeous revelation,

To discover new sensations,

To pursue these fleeting moments...

Mia and Lora exchanged a glance. The fraction-of-a-second telegraph. They rose from the corner table, crossed to the stage, and took the spare guitars from the rack. Lora's fingers found the chord progression on the first bar. Mia's followed on the second.

The chorus came and Alice opened her voice to its full reach — the sound that had rung through phases and gardens and eleven timelines:

And you beside me,

For a while, it's true,

Since this life can be a treasure,

When the light belongs to you.

Margaret's eyes went wide. Her hand found Mark's and held. Tears ran down her face. She did not wipe them.

The four voices wove through the next verse — Alice leading, the sisters harmonising, Kate's piano anchoring it all:

Tapping rhythms on the railing,

Making music from the pavement,

Through the dust and through the laughter,

Where the echoes find each other,

Leave the worry for tomorrow,

Such a simple celebration,

To remember one another,

To continue what we've started.

The chorus returned. The second time through, voices joined from the tables — patrons who had caught the melody, who sang the words they had heard once and remembered. The third time, the entire Tindaloo sang. The sound filled the low room and pressed against the walls and the windows and the door propped open to the September street.

The final chord hung. Then silence. Then applause — sustained, the kind that comes from the feet as well as the hands.

Margaret ran to the stage. She caught Alice's arm and Kate's hand and her words tumbled: "You are the best. The best."

The applause continued. Philip set down his cloth and joined it. Crowford stood in the front row, clapping with the slow, deliberate rhythm of a man who had waited seventy-five years to hear something worth standing for.

Then the room went quiet.

Not gradually. All at once — the way a room falls silent when every person sees the same thing at the same moment.

The far wall held a mirror. Large, oak-framed, the glass that had reflected the Tindaloo's interior for as long as Philip could remember. Now it did not reflect the room. The surface had cleared to show somewhere else — a barren landscape, grey rock under a sky without clouds, the horizon flat and featureless.

Three figures stood on the rock. Men in white steel armour, plated from shoulder to boot. Helmets hid their faces. Their gauntlets were removed — bare hands exposed, pale against the steel. They were applauding.

1234

Предыдущая глава

↓ Содержание ↓