DJ Woodstock
Woodstock gave a "pfft" noise of a negatory response as he gave a wave. Nah, no allergies here... He began to whistle as the woman went back into the kitchen. No fancy beats...yet. Just a nice, easy tune of "Stairway to Heaven". Nice, slow simple. As the parts with extra instruments came up, he added in those parts too, seemingly doing what no other mortal mouth could, sounding nearly like the song itself.
But, of course, he got bored with this tune as-was, and so then began to put a heavier beat underneath, cutting the main intro chord and looping, eventually evolving it into a slow, sad, solemn techno-esqe sound...something that seemed seemingly impossible. The beats and noise that came out seemed to almost form a voice of their own, telling a hard, sorrowful tale, yet spoke no words, only sound and music. He had long closed his eyes to the rest of the world absorbed only in the story he told that would always be heard, but never understood. His head bobbed slightly to his own beat as his foot tapped, his hands giving a more physical beat to follow. His mind, well barred before, was slowly lowering its defences as the music took control.
There's a place, this I'm sure;
Where the only allure
Is the feelings of true love and grace...
What is love? I dunno;
but perhaps you you could show
Just a little of love in this place...
Woodstock gave a "pfft" noise of a negatory response as he gave a wave. Nah, no allergies here... He began to whistle as the woman went back into the kitchen. No fancy beats...yet. Just a nice, easy tune of "Stairway to Heaven". Nice, slow simple. As the parts with extra instruments came up, he added in those parts too, seemingly doing what no other mortal mouth could, sounding nearly like the song itself.
But, of course, he got bored with this tune as-was, and so then began to put a heavier beat underneath, cutting the main intro chord and looping, eventually evolving it into a slow, sad, solemn techno-esqe sound...something that seemed seemingly impossible. The beats and noise that came out seemed to almost form a voice of their own, telling a hard, sorrowful tale, yet spoke no words, only sound and music. He had long closed his eyes to the rest of the world absorbed only in the story he told that would always be heard, but never understood. His head bobbed slightly to his own beat as his foot tapped, his hands giving a more physical beat to follow. His mind, well barred before, was slowly lowering its defences as the music took control.
There's a place, this I'm sure;
Where the only allure
Is the feelings of true love and grace...
What is love? I dunno;
but perhaps you you could show
Just a little of love in this place...