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the sound of photosynthesis

by Brian Cutean QTN

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Elam Blackman
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Elam Blackman Brian is an interstellar fella. Prankster priest. His songs are alive. Lift your spirits with these masterful tunes Favorite track: daybroughtlove.
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    Get all 11 Brian Cutean QTN releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of OsculEARiosophy, Is As Does Is, So Now the Poets, the sound of photosynthesis, Guitarred and Feathered, Hearthearthearth, Food, Parakeetfishhead, and 3 more. , and , .

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g l i m p s e (á l o r c a) the silver door glistens, it suddenly opens for only a moment but it feels like a lifetime and somewhere inside is the song of the ages never repeating and it always keeps changing all of the stories and lightning and thunder reveal what is timeless and ever-expanding worlds whirl in spirals in sounds ever merging of creation, destruction and every variation while all in the same room with doors opening outward expanding contractions in a widening mandala the song’s never ending but feels like an instant it grows in proceeding with grace and attunement and the only every any has star arms like a nebulae and thousands of voices resound in a chorus of one toning note sound echoing infinity with multitudes of creation continuing the dance worlds twirling in swirling uncurling and pearling in songs of the oceans with echoes of mountains with tree whiskers waving and feathered wing soaring and glorious stories imploring the core... and just when it's certain it will go on forever, it’s over door closes and words can’t spell memory
n e x t b i g t h i n g everybody's waiting for the next big thing to take them on a carnival ride as if we haven't got enough to do these days we gotta fall for something new besides all of these distractions pulling every way, never any time to be still everybody's waiting for the next big thing afraid they won't get their fill ohhh how about you? ohhh what do you do? it's not another rug and it ain't on the wall, it's not even in the same room you could look outside, you’ll never find what it is that keeps calling for you all of these connections are up in the air no way to ever keep score everybody's looking for the next big thing they never even knew what for but ohhh what can i do ohhh the best i can do one of these days i'm gonna run so fast, my feet are gonna leave the ground flying so swift, the future's hurling past, i’m listening to a gloriousound i'm gonna take another ride on the cosmic wheel, far from wherever i began, and if you think that’s like looking for the next big thing, well i think i am ohhh no time left to lose moving to the other side of the blues ohhh what do we know maybe it ‘s all just for show
a n y o n e l i v e d i n a p r e t t y h o w t o w n anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter he sang his didn't he danced his did Women and men(both little and small) cared for anyone not at all they sowed their isn't they reaped their same sun moon stars rain children guessed(but only a few and down they forgot as up they grew autumn winter spring summer) that noone loved him more by more when by now and tree by leaf she laughed his joy she cried his grief bird by snow and stir by still anyone's any was all to her someones married their everyones laughed their cryings and did their dance (sleep wake hope and then)they said their nevers they slept their dream stars rain sun moon (and only the snow can begin to explain how children are apt to forget to remember with up so floating many bells down) one day anyone died i guess (and noone stooped to kiss his face) busy folk buried them side by side little by little and was by was all by all and deep by deep and more by more they dream their sleep noone and anyone earth by april wish by spirit and if by yes Women and men(both dong and ding) summer autumn winter spring reaped their sowing and went their came sun moon stars rain "anyone lived in a pretty how town," copyright 1940, (c) 1968, 1991 by the trustees for the e.e. cummings trust, from complete poems: 1904 -1962 by e.e. cummings, edited by george j. firmage. used by permission of liveright publishing corporation.
h i t c h i n a r i d e (o n o l' m a n r i v e r) ol' freight train is rumblin, bumpin down the track wheels keep on a grumblin engineer don't look back someday i'll jump into one of those boxes hanging tight, travellin’ far leavin the city, laughing all the while ol freight train is rumblin, i'm travelin in style ol highway is winding, smiling east and west cars swiftly sliding, trying hard to escape the rest someday i'll stand with my feet on yr shoulder grinnin so wide, tho the cars pass me by heading for nowhere, helping when i can ol highway's windin like a snake across the land ol man river is a rushin with a mind of his own brother water keeps flushin crushin huge rocks to stones lay myself down in that cool sparkling water take me wherever you want me to go dreamin of music, driftin off to sleep ol river enfold me, carry me deep trials have ended, no more need to hide ol man river pull over I'm hitchin a ride… for martin wigginton, bob felt, david mitchell and DBO
groWings 05:37
g r o W i n g s wisdom is a growing – an opening ancient flower hardly even moving steeped in observation perspective is a deep way to see keeping context in every angle a breathing intentionally to know the balance tango while grace climbs up, a rambling vine in a dance so fragile and sublime wrapped around a delicate trellis in movement like transcendence it's a lightning day with the upside down full of mystery and re-done-dance a simple tale tumbles off the tongue in a fractal friction romance while grace is a music and a medicine dance with a tilt of the head and a sideways glance intensity to make you shiver rushing through like a river wisdom is a growing perspective is a deep way to see grace climbs up, a rambling vine all these three are a part integrity a quality and a stability in harmony with humanity's humility the rarest kind of a fragile community
p a r t o f e v e r y t h i n g t h a t i s standing in the here and now someplace in between look at all the falling stars who knows what they mean mockingbird and mourning dove filling up the air call for you so far away deep inside me here part of everything that is bigger than the sky mockingbird and mourning dove reminds me how you fly here inside magnolia time mockingbird is loud sheets cascade of songs he knows a voice outside the crowd part of everything that is a drop inside the ocean high up in magnolia tree melody in motion mourning dove dawn to dusk coos in pause and flow melancholic elegy forlorn and slow –– part of everything that is you gave to humanity your every note in every song: ringing in eternity mockingbird and mourning dove sing in changing light you rise, dissolve, become the air another day becoming night
d a n c e w e k n o w maybe this dance we know is nothing but a dream another chance to look inside beyond the way it seems maybe we’re a common thread dangling from the sky maybe there's much more unsaid wordless in a sigh maybe the moon and mars are turning in the night surrounded by falling stars echoing insight maybe we’re a silent prayer filling up the dark maybe there’s much more in there arcing in a spark on the tip of the universe these bodies come to learn until we step outside the form and watch these bodies burn you can never walk away, the choice becomes you no matter who you think you are it’s in everything you do just because the heart turns doesn’t mean it has to go like staring at a photograph of what we’ll never know somedays there’s a refugee lost inside the night somedays there’s a part of me that watches with delight maybe the moon and mars... maybe the moon and mars... turning in the night
precarious 07:07
p r e c a r i o u s the sun warms wet grass, changing dew to steam another day begins again to vanish like a dream and life, precarious and strange continues its growing passing like an old freight train never really knowing... as answers to the questionings asked for many ages are scribbled on the waters of the night cresting and falling, filling pages and still we do the best we can and still we come to try to untangle and pull the dangling cord connecting us to the why to listen to the music in the heartbeat of the sun to hold the field so souls can find the song of EVERYONE so a heart opens wide to the sounding of the chimes and follows a road that never ends, uncrossing every line and life, precarious and strange casts away its anchor agreeing again to lose track of the shore opening to more... so we roll rocks up the hill and so they tumble right back down like the sun warms dampened bones and climbs an arc so soon set down and life, precarious and strange unravels in its passing listening for the fading sound... echoing on... a dream unwound... and still we do the best we can and still we come to try to untangle and pull the dangling cord connecting us to the why to listen to the music in the heartbeat of the sun to hold the field so souls can sing the song of EVERYONE
d a y b r o u g h t l o v e several stars were out of order as we looked up to the night even time had no idea if it'd ever be set right everybody had their questions to which answers would not be found even silence grew so loud it made a gorgeous sound folks were puzzled by the light source as they reached into above but there were no apprehensions as the daybroughtlove all the green surrounding hillsides were more precious than gold and the sunrise on the ocean was miracle to behold micro creatures danced in water keeping mountains standing tall and the brave and crazy music ricocheted off the walls folks were open to new lessons even as push came down to shove but nobody was mistaken as the daybroughtlove and oh, how the slenderest cobweb trembled like a guitarstring and oh, how fragile and strong it was connecting everything phosphorus stars melted like honey as we looked into the past and the spiralled double helix was recombinating fast then instead of obfuscation every secret stood revealed and the naked and the frightened were no longer concealed as the sound of photosynthesis filled the cooing of the dove and the world of life evolved anew as the daybroughtlove
so many days 05:45
s o m a n y d a y s it's a life in time, seasons turn like pages children grow so fast, people act on stages such a lot to do, so many blessins dreams are sometimes true, good or bad they're lessons so the story goes, not everything is matter leave only footprints, climb up on that ladder do the best you can, listen with a keen ear open every day, breathe a little deeper so many days, so many years so many stories, in a world of tears so many roads, so many words so many songs never to be heard it's okay to care, be aware of blindness reach out your hand, share a little kindness it's all a circle, you won't be backed in a corner so the story goes – on and on like water what's a life well-led? there's so many questions so much potential, different intentions like a masquerade, a homemade parade of faces some are lifelong friends, others time erases so many days, so many years so many roads, so many tears so many stories, so many words so many songs never to be heard that world we know has never been forgotten it opens every moment no matter how you're distracted spin the crooked wheel, win a box of chickens you could be the next inventor of somethin finger lickin if you only knew the sound inside your ocean you'd reach behind the mirror and touch the maybe never you can live by heart, you can open a window see behind the door, don’t forget to knock it like that look you have the way you sing tog ether that song inside your river will carry me forever so many days, so many years so many roads, so many tears so many stories, TOO many words so many songs never to be heard reach for the sky, stand a little taller see how wild the world is feel a little smaller even though you know you may never find it, the perfect missing chord and how to get lost behind it the pulsing of yr blood, it's autonomic history proves again everything's comic-cozmic…


"So the daybroughtlove as a precarious dance we know is part of everything that is growing and hitching a ride to the pretty how town for a glimpse of the next big thing. We saw, we awe, we are.." – from a note from Seraphic Park.

These ten tunes include a musical setting of ee cummings' "anyone lived in a pretty how town"; a duet with my bassman for 30+ years, Robert Vignaud, (now conducting musical electricity in a celestial way) and a wide array of amazing musicians – Lewi Longmire, Chris Funk, Jenny Conlee, Jason Montgomery, Simon Lucas, Nancy Tannler, Eugene's Mood Area 52, Ike Eichenberg, Oliver Steck, DarlenYa and other very musical beings too. Recorded in Portland, Eugene and Austin, the was mixed and mastered in glorious 3D.

The physical CD contains a poster of this unbelievable cover painted by the illustrious Ila Rose (ilaroseart.com) and there's way more than this picture shows.

Review by Mitch Ritter, Lay-Low Studios, OR-WA:
The Sound of Photosynthesis has and continues to seek its own level, taking time-lapse root under my skin and hovering around the constellation of my senses... This cycle of songs and aural collage distills well-traveled and hard-traveled sense datum into the stuff of walkabout wisdom.

Recorded intuitively on the Austin, Texas through Eugene to Po’Town, Ore-gone-ic axis peopled with some of the hemisphere’s impressively intuitive players and engineering wizards such as Billy Barnett [at Gung Ho] and Victor Nash at Destination Universe studios, The Sound of Photosynthesis opens with an under-wrought “glimpse” of the many paradoxes and absurdist con-trails of Spain & the whole absurd world of Federico Garcia Lorca’s rough-hewn revolutionary lived poetry, where delicacy, civil resistance from whimsy to war, finds the steps to the “dance we know” (perhaps a ‘dance of the neurons’).

Cutean aka QTN and his collaborators breathe through these tunes and natural world soundscapes\shadescapes a similarly delicate series of emotional phases finding a “precarious” if evanescent balance between the deep dark night of the soul and “daybroughtlove” from which this marvelous album’s title is drawn. There’s a hint of Chicago’s folk-theater master Michael Smith’s “Something About Big Twist” in Cutean’s “next big thing” again balancing the whimsy of often bitter time-lapse wisdom with its sweet and sour getting. Oliver Steck’s after-tone trumpet is one of the green fuses that drive, yet never forces, these flowers.


released February 14, 2016


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Brian Cutean QTN Oregon

Brian Cutean/QTN, Oregon songpoet and wordsmith musician, writes songs with offbeat and touching lyrical observations on the socialography of the human condition. He has performed with spirit and whimsy all over these United States for many years.

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