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Fazio - Élégie mp3

Tracklist

1Mélodia Per Una Memoria (Faded Now And Half Remembered)19:36
2Il Sognatore È Ancora Addormentato (Behold, This Dreamer Cometh)19:08
3Dopo Tre Mesi, Tutto è Lo Stesso, Eccetto Un Piccolo Regalo, Quando Arriva L'inverno, Più Disappunti È Dispiacere (Petey's Song)8:08

Credits

  • Electric Guitar, Effects [Treatments], Percussion [Percussive Objects], Engineer, Mastered ByFazio
  • Pedal Steel GuitarFazio (tracks: 1, 3)
  • PianoFazio (tracks: 2)
  • Tenor VocalsCaruso (tracks: 3)
  • VoiceClementina Di Ciccolini (tracks: 1), Fazio (tracks: 1)

Notes

Released in a matte finished digipak.

Those ordered direct through the label came with a handmade, signed booklet and printed vellum slipcase. This version is now out of print.

Companies

  • Manufactured By – Mobineko Multimedia

Info

You may submit artist- and album-related corrections to the TiVo data team by following the steps on this page. For other feedback please visit our GetSatisfaction page. Please note that we cannot respond to address or phone information requests for any person identified in our database, nor can we forward fan mail. Home - Tony Fazio. Лента с персональными рекомендациями и музыкальными новинками, радио, подборки на любой вкус, удобное управление своей коллекцией. Исполнитель: Tony Fazio. 2015 punk. An elegy is a poem of mourning. Elegy, Elegie, or Elegies may also refer to: Élégie, a painting by William-Adolphe Bouguereau. Any poem written in elegiac couplets. Elegies by Propertius ca. 50-15 BC. Elegy, a 1586 poem by Chidiock Tichborne. Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, a 1751 poem by Thomas Gray. Elegy, the opening poem in Leonard Cohens first collection Let Us Compare Mythologies from 1956. Elégia, a 1965 film by Hungarian director Zoltán Huszárik. FaZio is Mike Fazio, an experimental guitarist, synthesist and improvisor born and raised in New York City. First privately issued recordings date from 1983. First commercially available recordings date from 1987. Active to this day. View wiki. Fazio, M. Fazio, MF, Mike 'Il Duce' Fazio. 아티스트 편집. 마켓플레이스 판매 품목 356개. twenty eight. All At Once The Remote Go Forth My Soul And My Seeking, The Unknowable Becomes Known CDr, Album, Lim. Quiet World. 이 버전 판매. fs15. Album 2018 1 Song. Get Started. United States. Internet Service Terms. Cookie Warning. Aja ˈeɪʒə, pronounced Asia is the sixth studio album by the jazz rock band Steely Dan. Originally released in 1977 on ABC Records, the album peaked at number three on the US charts and number five in the UK. It was the band's first platinum album and ultimately became their best-selling studio release, eventually selling over 5 million copies. It spawned a number of hit singles, including Peg, Deacon Blues, and Josie. In July 1978, the album won the Grammy Award for Best Engineered Non. Luigi Fazio. Give Pro

Fazio - Élégie mp3

Performer: Fazio

Title: Élégie

Country: US

Release date: 01 Mar 2012

Label: Faith Strange

Style: Free Improvisation, Experimental, Ambient

Catalog: fs15

Genre: Electronic / Jazz

Size MP3: 1978 mb

Rating: 4.5 / 5

Votes: 154

Record source: CD, Limited Edition

MP3 Related to Fazio - Élégie

Kuve

from a closer listen:

The recorded output of Mike Fazio (orchestramaxfieldparrish) has often been called “difficult music”, but Élégie is surprisingly accessible – at least when compared to A Guide For Reason I-VI, the first volume of the Music From A Strange Box series. The reason is fairly obvious: Élégie is primarily an album of electric guitar, holding court with poetry, opera and piano. It seems like a logical progression from “One Of These Is True. This Is True”, the closing selection on A Guide For Reason VII-VIII. The big difference: this time there’s a hook.

The poetry of Matthew Arnold is a unique entry point for a long ambient guitar piece; on the opening track, his words are read with differing inflections over a bed of crackle and rust: “Come to me in my dreams, and then by day I shall be well again”, counter-balanced by the longings of a woman who wants to dwell with him forever. There’s only so many times one can hear this exchange, haunted by rustlings, backward masking and church bells, before it starts to get a little creepy: a mutual obsession that may not end well. The word “forever” begins to sound vampiric, at the very least a more intellectual counterpart to “Paradise By The Dashboard Light” (“Do you love me? Will you love me forever?”). As the male voice grows more frantic, pleading sets in. At what point does romance turn a bitter corner? Where is the line between a desirable flirtation and an unwanted approach? The dark timbres and inflections cause the listener to speculate, and perhaps even to fear.

After such a start, the opening piano notes of the second track come as a relief: there’s enough room between the blinds for a little light to shine. While the ear is drawn more to the guitar, the ivories add a softening touch: at times morose, but at times playful, especially at the center, in which it is allowed to dance alone. This piece was initially intended to appear on a different release, but it fits in well here, like a referee holding back two opponents between the bells. In the other corner paces the tenor Caruso, whose vocals were recorded a century ago but still seem sublime.

The effect of hearing antique sources in modern settings is pleasingly disorienting; whether intentional or not, Fazio seems to be questioning the idea of timelessness. Removed from their original contexts, why does one conceit continue to come across as authentic while the other inspires pause? Is more accurate emotion found in words or intonation? Few answers are available on Élégie; the smiling man on the cover seems to know the secret, but he’s not sharing. Perhaps it’s better not to know the answers; this way, the questions retain their intrigue. (Richard Allen)
Kuve

from a closer listen:

The recorded output of Mike Fazio (orchestramaxfieldparrish) has often been called “difficult music”, but Élégie is surprisingly accessible – at least when compared to A Guide For Reason I-VI, the first volume of the Music From A Strange Box series. The reason is fairly obvious: Élégie is primarily an album of electric guitar, holding court with poetry, opera and piano. It seems like a logical progression from “One Of These Is True. This Is True”, the closing selection on A Guide For Reason VII-VIII. The big difference: this time there’s a hook.

The poetry of Matthew Arnold is a unique entry point for a long ambient guitar piece; on the opening track, his words are read with differing inflections over a bed of crackle and rust: “Come to me in my dreams, and then by day I shall be well again”, counter-balanced by the longings of a woman who wants to dwell with him forever. There’s only so many times one can hear this exchange, haunted by rustlings, backward masking and church bells, before it starts to get a little creepy: a mutual obsession that may not end well. The word “forever” begins to sound vampiric, at the very least a more intellectual counterpart to “Paradise By The Dashboard Light” (“Do you love me? Will you love me forever?”). As the male voice grows more frantic, pleading sets in. At what point does romance turn a bitter corner? Where is the line between a desirable flirtation and an unwanted approach? The dark timbres and inflections cause the listener to speculate, and perhaps even to fear.

After such a start, the opening piano notes of the second track come as a relief: there’s enough room between the blinds for a little light to shine. While the ear is drawn more to the guitar, the ivories add a softening touch: at times morose, but at times playful, especially at the center, in which it is allowed to dance alone. This piece was initially intended to appear on a different release, but it fits in well here, like a referee holding back two opponents between the bells. In the other corner paces the tenor Caruso, whose vocals were recorded a century ago but still seem sublime.

The effect of hearing antique sources in modern settings is pleasingly disorienting; whether intentional or not, Fazio seems to be questioning the idea of timelessness. Removed from their original contexts, why does one conceit continue to come across as authentic while the other inspires pause? Is more accurate emotion found in words or intonation? Few answers are available on Élégie; the smiling man on the cover seems to know the secret, but he’s not sharing. Perhaps it’s better not to know the answers; this way, the questions retain their intrigue. (Richard Allen)