關於 beat maker go ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

Go Pre-save my coming song feat. Conehead
到我的spotify 先關注一波🙌
9/30晚上10點 正式單曲發行

#喜歡chill beat的朋友先來卡位
#寒冷-7度在日本養父滑雪的偶因為差點被雪埋而對生命有了不一樣的體悟
#靈魂beat maker錐大的加持
-
Pre-save 連結：
https://reurl.cc/r86nyE

Nobody’s Fool　　( January 2011 )

Yoshitomo Nara

Do people look to my childhood for sources of my imagery? Back then, the snow-covered fields of the north were about as far away as you could get from the rapid economic growth happening elsewhere. Both my parents worked and my brothers were much older, so the only one home to greet me when I got back from elementary school was a stray cat we’d taken in. Even so, this was the center of my world. In my lonely room, I would twist the radio dial to the American military base station and out blasted rock and roll music. One of history’s first man-made satellites revolved around me up in the night sky. There I was, in touch with the stars and radio waves.

It doesn’t take much imagination to envision how a lonely childhood in such surroundings might give rise to the sensibility in my work. In fact, I also used to believe in this connection. I would close my eyes and conjure childhood scenes, letting my imagination amplify them like the music coming from my speakers.

But now, past the age of fifty and more cool-headed, I’ve begun to wonder how big a role childhood plays in making us who we are as adults. Looking through reproductions of the countless works I’ve made between my late twenties and now, I get the feeling that childhood experiences were merely a catalyst. My art derives less from the self-centered instincts of childhood than from the day-to-day sensory experiences of an adult who has left this realm behind. And, ultimately, taking the big steps pales in importance to the daily need to keep on walking.

While I was in high school, before I had anything to do with art, I worked part-time in a rock café. There I became friends with a graduate student of mathematics who one day started telling me, in layman’s terms, about his major in topology. His explanation made the subject seem less like a branch of mathematics than some fascinating organic philosophy. My understanding is that topology offers you a way to discover the underlying sameness of countless, seemingly disparate, forms. Conversely, it explains why many people, when confronted with apparently identical things, will accept a fake as the genuine article. I later went on to study art, live in Germany, and travel around the world, and the broader perspective I’ve gained has shown me that topology has long been a subtext of my thinking. The more we add complexity, the more we obscure what is truly valuable. Perhaps the reason I began, in the mid-90s, trying to make paintings as simple as possible stems from that introduction to topology gained in my youth.

As a kid listening to U.S. armed-forces radio, I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I loved the melody and rhythm of the music. In junior high school, my friends and I were already discussing rock and roll like credible music critics, and by the time I started high school, I was hanging out in rock coffee shops and going to live shows. We may have been a small group of social outcasts, but the older kids, who smoked cigarettes and drank, talked to us all night long about movies they’d seen or books they’d read. If the nighttime student quarter had been the school, I’m sure I would have been a straight-A student.

In the 80s, I left my hometown to attend art school, where I was anything but an honors student. There, a model student was one who brought a researcher’s focus to the work at hand. Your bookshelves were stacked with catalogues and reference materials. When you weren’t working away in your studio, you were meeting with like-minded classmates to discuss art past and present, including your own. You were hoping to set new trends in motion. Wholly lacking any grand ambition, I fell well short of this model, with most of my paintings done to satisfy class assignments. I was, however, filling every one of my notebooks, sketchbooks, and scraps of wrapping paper with crazy, graffiti-like drawings.

Looking back on my younger days—Where did where all that sparkling energy go? I used the money from part-time jobs to buy record albums instead of art supplies and catalogues. I went to movies and concerts, hung out with my girlfriend, did funky drawings on paper, and made midnight raids on friends whose boarding-room lights still happened to be on. I spent the passions of my student days outside the school studio. This is not to say I wasn’t envious of the kids who earned the teachers’ praise or who debuted their talents in early exhibitions. Maybe envy is the wrong word. I guess I had the feeling that we were living in separate worlds. Like puffs of cigarette smoke or the rock songs from my speaker, my adolescent energies all vanished in the sky.

Being outside the city and surrounded by rice fields, my art school had no art scene to speak of—I imagined the art world existing in some unknown dimension, like that of TV or the movies. At the time, art could only be discussed in a Western context, and, therefore, seemed unreal. But just as every country kid dreams of life in the big city, this shaky art-school student had visions of the dazzling, far-off realm of contemporary art. Along with this yearning was an equally strong belief that I didn’t deserve admittance to such a world. A typical provincial underachiever!

I did, however, love to draw every day and the scrawled sketches, never shown to anybody, started piling up. Like journal entries reflecting the events of each day, they sometimes intersected memories from the past. My little everyday world became a trigger for the imagination, and I learned to develop and capture the imagery that arose. I was, however, still a long way off from being able to translate those countless images from paper to canvas.

Visions come to us through daydreams and fantasies. Our emotional reaction towards these images makes them real. Listening to my record collection gave me a similar experience. Before the Internet, the precious little information that did exist was to be found in the two or three music magazines available. Most of my records were imported—no liner notes or lyric sheets in Japanese. No matter how much I liked the music, living in a non-English speaking world sadly meant limited access to the meaning of the lyrics. The music came from a land of societal, religious, and subcultural sensibilities apart from my own, where people moved their bodies to it in a different rhythm. But that didn’t stop me from loving it. I never got tired of poring over every inch of the record jackets on my 12-inch vinyl LPs. I took the sounds and verses into my body. Amidst today’s superabundance of information, choosing music is about how best to single out the right album. For me, it was about making the most use of scant information to sharpen my sensibilities, imagination, and conviction. It might be one verse, melody, guitar riff, rhythmic drum beat or bass line, or record jacket that would inspire me and conjure up fresh imagery. Then, with pencil in hand, I would draw these images on paper, one after the other. Beyond good or bad, the pictures had a will of their own, inhabiting the torn pages with freedom and friendliness.

By the time I graduated from university, my painting began to approach the independence of my drawing. As a means for me to represent a world that was mine and mine alone, the paintings may not have been as nimble as the drawings, but I did them without any preliminary sketching. Prizing feelings that arose as I worked, I just kept painting and over-painting until I gained a certain freedom and the sense, though vague at the time, that I had established a singular way of putting images onto canvas. Yet, I hadn’t reached the point where I could declare that I would paint for the rest of my life.

After receiving my undergraduate degree, I entered the graduate school of my university and got a part-time job teaching at an art yobiko—a prep school for students seeking entrance to an art college. As an instructor, training students how to look at and compose things artistically, meant that I also had to learn how to verbalize my thoughts and feelings. This significant growth experience not only allowed me to take stock of my life at the time, but also provided a refreshing opportunity to connect with teenage hearts and minds.

And idealism! Talking to groups of art students, I naturally found myself describing the ideals of an artist. A painful experience for me—I still had no sense of myself as an artist. The more the students showed their affection for me, the more I felt like a failed artist masquerading as a sensei (teacher). After completing my graduate studies, I kept working as a yobiko instructor. And in telling students about the path to becoming an artist, I began to realize that I was still a student myself, with many things yet to learn. I felt that I needed to become a true art student. I decided to study in Germany. The day I left the city where I had long lived, many of my students appeared on the platform to see me off.

Life as a student in Germany was a happy time. I originally intended to go to London, but for economic reasons chose a tuition-free, and, fortunately, academism-free German school. Personal approaches coexisted with conceptual ones, and students tried out a wide range of modes of expression. Technically speaking, we were all students, but each of us brought a creator’s spirit to the fore. The strong wills and opinions of the local students, though, were well in place before they became artists thanks to the German system of early education. As a reticent foreign student from a far-off land, I must have seemed like a mute child. I decided that I would try to make myself understood not through words, but through having people look at my pictures. When winter came and leaden clouds filled the skies, I found myself slipping back to the winters of my childhood. Forgoing attempts to speak in an unknown language, I redoubled my efforts to express myself through visions of my private world. Thinking rather than talking, then illustrating this thought process in drawings and, finally, realizing it in a painting. Instead of defeating you in an argument, I wanted to invite you inside me. Here I was, in a most unexpected place, rediscovering a value that I thought I had lost—I felt that I had finally gained the ability to learn and think, that I had become a student in the truest sense of the word.

But I still wasn’t your typical honors student. My paintings clearly didn’t look like contemporary art, and nobody would say my images fit in the context of European painting. They did, however, catch the gaze of dealers who, with their antennae out for young artists, saw my paintings as new objects that belonged less to the singular world of art and more to the realm of everyday life. Several were impressed by the freshness of my art, and before I knew it, I was invited to hold exhibitions in established galleries—a big step into a wider world.

The six years that I spent in Germany after completing my studies and before returning to Japan were golden days, both for me and my work. Every day and every night, I worked tirelessly to fix onto canvas all the visions that welled up in my head. My living space/studio was in a dreary, concrete former factory building on the outskirts of Cologne. It was the center of my world. Late at night, my surroundings were enveloped in darkness, but my studio was brightly lit. The songs of folk poets flowed out of my speakers. In that place, standing in front of the canvas sometimes felt like traveling on a solitary voyage in outer space—a lonely little spacecraft floating in the darkness of the void. My spaceship could go anywhere in this fantasy while I was painting, even to the edge of the universe.

Suddenly one day, I was flung outside—my spaceship was to be scrapped. My little vehicle turned back into an old concrete building, one that was slated for destruction because it was falling apart. Having lost the spaceship that had accompanied me on my lonely travels, and lacking the energy to look for a new studio, I immediately decided that I might as well go back to my homeland. It was painful and sad to leave the country where I had lived for twelve years and the handful of people I could call friends. But I had lost my ship. The only place I thought to land was my mother country, where long ago those teenagers had waved me goodbye and, in retrospect, whose letters to me while I was in Germany were a valuable source of fuel.

After my long space flight, I returned to Japan with the strange sense of having made a full orbit around the planet. The new studio was a little warehouse on the outskirts of Tokyo, in an area dotted with rice fields and small factories. When the wind blew, swirls of dust slipped in through the cracks, and water leaked down the walls in heavy rains. In my dilapidated warehouse, only one sheet of corrugated metal separated me from the summer heat and winter cold. Despite the funky environment, I was somehow able to keep in midnight contact with the cosmos—the beings I had drawn and painted in Germany began to mature. The emotional quality of the earlier work gave way to a new sense of composure. I worked at refining the former impulsiveness of the drawings and the monochromatic, almost reverent, backgrounds of the paintings. In my pursuit of fresh imagery, I switched from idle experimentation to a more workmanlike approach towards capturing what I saw beyond the canvas.

Children and animals—what simple motifs! Appearing on neat canvases or in ephemeral drawings, these figures are easy on the viewers’ eyes. Occasionally, they shake off my intentions and leap to the feet of their audience, never to return. Because my motifs are accessible, they are often only understood on a superficial level. Sometimes art that results from a long process of development receives only shallow general acceptance, and those who should be interpreting it fail to do so, either through a lack of knowledge or insufficient powers of expression. Take, for example, the music of a specific era. People who lived during this era will naturally appreciate the music that was then popular. Few of these listeners, however, will know, let alone value, the music produced by minor labels, by introspective musicians working under the radar, because it’s music that’s made in answer to an individual’s desire, not the desires of the times. In this way, people who say that “Nara loves rock,” or “Nara loves punk” should see my album collection. Of four thousand records there are probably fewer than fifty punk albums. I do have a lot of 60s and 70s rock and roll, but most of my music is from little labels that never saw commercial success—traditional roots music by black musicians and white musicians, and contemplative folk. The spirit of any era gives birth to trends and fashions as well as their opposite: countless introspective individual worlds. A simultaneous embrace of both has cultivated my sensibility and way of thinking. My artwork is merely the tip of the iceberg that is my self. But if you analyzed the DNA from this tip, you would probably discover a new way of looking at my art. My viewers become a true audience when they take what I’ve made and make it their own. That’s the moment the works gain their freedom, even from their maker.

After contemplative folk singers taught me about deep empathy, the punk rockers schooled me in explosive expression.

I was born on this star, and I’m still breathing. Since childhood, I’ve been a jumble of things learned and experienced and memories that can’t be forgotten. Their involuntary locomotion is my inspiration. I don’t express in words the contents of my work. I’ll only tell you my history. The countless stories living inside my work would become mere fabrications the moment I put them into words. Instead, I use my pencil to turn them into pictures. Standing before the dark abyss, here’s hoping my spaceship launches safely tonight….

『You Can't Hide - 無法躲藏的跨國陷阱單曲』
KKBOX：https://kkbox.fm/6a5V3s
Spotify：https://pse.is/SGVCB
Apple Music：https://pse.is/S282W
YouTube Music：https://pse.is/QF6XQ

台灣 X 新加坡 X 休士頓，跨國界聯手出擊

單曲「You Can't Hide 」由ＭＣ耀宗(Zion P) 擔任製作人和演唱，並且透過休士頓製作人Trixx的引薦，找來休士頓在地Rapper的「Slim Gotti」獻唱最終段；逆流音樂全能型創作新秀「艾瑞Arie」，也肩負起打頭陣的饒唱展現與混音的重責大任！

編曲由美國"休士頓 "華裔節奏陷阱濕(師) 的Beat Maker「Trixx」、新加坡籍知名製作人Jaydos(曾擔任過”孫盛希"單曲製作人)，以及台灣的新銳編曲師Lena-J，三方跨國共同聯手烹煮出層次分明、段落更迭的風味大作。

從開頭富有濃厚東洋味的前奏鋪陳後，帶你緩慢進入陷阱音樂的濃烈808節奏中，到了中段在想像不到的瞬間，神展開一段Neo Soul結合Jazz Hiphop的超狂變奏，第三段立馬回到Slim Gotti 的道地街頭黑話及嗓音，彷彿帶你飛進”休士頓”那罪慾橫流的Trap House。

「You Can't Hide」的創作靈感是源自製作人ＭＣ耀宗(Zion P)，在一次出遊時參觀到豬籠草及補蠅草的當下迸發的靈感，整個資本主義的社會就像是被鈔票餵養長大的食蟲植物，發出蜜汁吸引我們像是蟲子般的人類陷入其中難以自拔！此概念也在單曲的封面中，由新銳潛力插畫家Naush將其完美具象化。

Zion P ( MC 耀宗 )
https://www.instagram.com/zionp23
艾瑞 Arie
https://www.instagram.com/arie_dh
Slim Gotti
https://www.instagram.com/gottiboyslim

製作人 Producer：MC耀宗 (Zion P)
作詞 Lyricist : MC耀宗 (Zion P) | 艾瑞 Arie | Slim Gotti
作曲 Composer : MC耀宗 (Zion P) | 艾瑞 Arie | Slim Gotti
編曲 Music Arranger：Jaydos | Trixx | LENA-J
錄音 Recording：MC耀宗 (Zion P) | 艾瑞 Arie | Slim Gotti
混音 Mixing：艾瑞 Arie
插畫設計：NAUSH / 動畫影像：沙發上的馬鈴薯(羅奇)

🎧歌詞
You don’t wanna die
但是你早已離不開
I’m not gonna lie
我說明白你不愛

Hook：
You can run but you can’t hide
Run but you can’t hide
One day you will know
但是從來不是現在
Run but you can’t hide
Run but you can’t hide
One day you will know
Right now 我只能say goodbye

Arie：
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know ohh
Where to go? where to go? where to go ohh
存放在記憶裡 曾經的年少和無知
I said Imma on my way
Imma Imma on my way
何時刺痛到骨子裡 全部的壯志都變成了故事
I said maybe another day
Maybe maybe another day
我依舊在 依舊在 依舊在路上
但我沒方向 沒方向 走得慌
說真的我離開了但我從此
失去了太多的固執
別看那鮮豔的樣子讓我跟你說個故事

Hook：
You can run but you can’t hide
Run but you can’t hide
One day you will know
但是從來不是現在
Run but you can’t hide
Run but you can’t hide
One day you will know
Right now 我只能say goodbye

Zion P：
像是浪漫的瘋子
蟲子想逃離控制
曾經吶喊的夢是?
共識了格外諷刺
又掉落酒壺中 甜蜜在誘惑
空虛太生動 胸口開了洞
回憶在放空 塞進好多痛
爬不出牢籠
那些限量 的慾望 能不能 save my life?
那些舞池中的嫣紅 try to kill my vibe
還在明白 豬籠草的愛
像螞蟻 被困進了 消化液中 等待損壞

Hook：
You can run but you can’t hide
Run but you can’t hide
One day you will know
但是從來不是現在
Run but you can’t hide
Run but you can’t hide
One day you will know
Right now 我只能say goodbye

Slim Gotti：
| ain't the one but keep a gun
Believe in God well meet the sun
I keep that fire to heat the sun
| stay prepared I sleep on none
I rap n kill these beats for fun
N I'm so trill like pimp n bun
N I can’t chill a hit n run
U let me feel l'll make u cum
I ain't the one she say cuz she don’t talk to hustlers.
I was tripping cuz u know
l'd rather keep her as a customer
Tell ya homegirls to shop
Get ya homeboys to bop
I got that chrome that a pop
Acreshomes made a stop
Yella bone on my jock
If it‘s done then its slop
Money grown like a crop
Now I'm on l won’t stop
I’m not alone at the top
All the hustlers from the block
The only time u see us drop is when
we run into them OPs

Hook：
You can run but you can’t hide
Run but you can’t hide
One day you will know
但是從來不是現在
Run but you can’t hide
Run but you can’t hide
One day you will know
Right now 我只能say goodbye

大門弥生(YAYOI DAIMON)「Lonely Night」Official Video
Available on https://linkco.re/A5BvpsPX
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/yayoidaimon/
Twitter https://twitter.com/DaimonYayoi

Apple Music
https://music.apple.com/jp/artist/%E5%A4%A7%E9%96%80%E5%BC%A5%E7%94%9F/852940309

Spotify
https://open.spotify.com/album/48ExWX...

Instagram @yayoidaimon

Booking info. (info@schwaza.jp)

Film Director：武藤眞志

Beat Maker : The BK sound

Label : Schwaza Records (schwaza.jp)

A&R：KOSUKE KURASEKO

#LOVESONG #REGGAE #恋愛 #恋人

English lyric：
Tonight is lonely, lonely lonely night

Still dont wanna wake from this dream

I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you

Tonight is lonely, lonely lonely night

Still wanna feel my lingering thoughts

I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you

After the party

Hoping this time right now

Lasts forever

That kind of cliche quote that fits this situation

Roll up please one more roll up (No)

Sometimes sober is nice too (Yes)

Dont let the wave control you

Tell me the words of love for me

Pour it up our up absorbed in focus

Dont even know the time

If we love then more the love

I cant bare the pain in my gap

So promise me here

Let me hear it multiple time

You say “I love you”

You say “I love you”

Tonight is lonely, lonely lonely night

Still dont wanna wake from this dream

I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you



Tonight is lonely, lonely lonely night

Still dont wanna wake from this dream

I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you

Ta ta talk we a talk

Forget about time go with the flow

An An from the morning gosh

Cant see you for about 2 hours



Lone nights are lonely but

I wont forget keep trynna going up

My feelings of trust are for real

Im a Don skills are above above above .....





Tonight is lonely, lonely lonely night

Still dont wanna wake from this dream

I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you



Tonight is lonely, lonely lonely night

Still wanna feel my lingering thoughts

I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you





Its a love that just started

The kind where Im fine if this is my last

You’re the one I like

I feel stupid

I say things out of spurt

Like always

Hug me gently

Pilled up timings

The start was that days wine

My darling I wont give to anybody



Tonight is lonely, lonely lonely night

Still dont wanna wake from this dream

I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you



Tonight is lonely, lonely lonely night

Still wanna feel my lingering thoughts

I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you



Roll up roll up

Roll up miss my babe

Todays a lonely night

Lonely smokin’ Friday



It's our perfect love

#golfpichaya #กอล์ฟพิชญะ #Futurebass

**press cc for lyric**

New Golf Pichaya international track refreshing the year 2020 with his love to Futurebass gerne and electronic music.

Produced & Composed: Golf Pichaya
Vocalist : Golf Pichaya
Lyric by: Golf Pichaya
Chorus by: Golf Pichaya / YingPCP
Mixed&Mastered : Max Petersen

“Let Me Go”

Verse1
You know it’s never gonna be alright
(The day u wanna walk away)
You never ever wanna make things right
(And damn u did it all again)

Chorus
The pain I'm suffering like U handcuffed me
The devil within me say "liberate us!" so
I don’t give a fuck
I won’t give a fuck
Just let me Go!! Go Go

verse2
Damn! You're like a drunk devil drillin in my ceiling...like a
Bang!! You got me bad not sure I'm thrilled or trippin
Dang! I guess u better go
no fluctuated yo oh yeah

Bridge
So let me elevate into the moon light
There is no better way to get through the night