HARLEM: Solo Jazz Battle Finals
33 votes
Finalists: Kirill Rodionov (1st place!) Alina Sokulska, Evgeniia Zlatina, Yana Sanamyants, Nejc Zupan music: Professor Cunningham and his Old School
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Steve Dalachinsky Poems for and by Tuli Kupferberg
As Tuli had neither surgery nor autopsy at the time of his death it's hard to understand the "butchers" symbolism here. Tuli called this kind of impressionist poetry "word salad." Bowery Poetry Club NYC July 13, 2011Uploaded on Jul 23, 2011
Alice Milburn - Bittersweet
Live performance of my original song 'Bittersweet'. Filmed at Quay West Studios (Gosport) featuring Ricky Eastman on Saxophone (Dec 17). Alice Milburn Music.
Steve Dalachinsky & Matt Maneri - Evolving MUSIC/ VOICE Series
January 25, 2010Steve Dalachinsky - pet, voiceMatt Manieri - violin
BROOKLYNN - i hate it here
On and on it goes i know It’s just a part of me Never ever been something I control How did we get here I fear I’m worried for my life Is it just a matter of time Before we go Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here The cycle carried on Just like a feather in the wind It was hard to trace it back But we knew it’d never end And the houses They were never ever built on sinking sand They were built on backs of men They were trying to break The kingdom grew and told those men That they were never great And they showed them only hate Anytime they were showcased Okay Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here There were bruises left in history They kept a mystery from us And the people that tried to break us They only feared us Because we were too free We were too free We were too free We were too free Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here
BROOKLYNN - i hate it here
On and on it goes i know It’s just a part of me Never ever been something I control How did we get here I fear I’m worried for my life Is it just a matter of time Before we go Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here The cycle carried on Just like a feather in the wind It was hard to trace it back But we knew it’d never end And the houses They were never ever built on sinking sand They were built on backs of men They were trying to break The kingdom grew and told those men That they were never great And they showed them only hate Anytime they were showcased Okay Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here There were bruises left in history They kept a mystery from us And the people that tried to break us They only feared us Because we were too free We were too free We were too free We were too free Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here