Welcome to the Eventide of Music

eventide music genre     Eventide     Eve-n-Tide
Who is Paul Dresser?     Video and Article

When the time is over,
held back tears will surely flow
Out on the peninsula, there accused I stand alone
Angels come to protect me, I was wrong, but they believed
Loose the chords to set me free

Eventide Millennium

     Hello, Welcome to the Eventide of Music. I’m Paul Dresser.

     What is Eventide? Where did it begin? And what's it all about? Well, since I discovered it, I guess I should have the answers. So let's go back One Million Eight Hundred Thousand Years ago to the Pleistocene. The time and place possibly where Music began.

     Imagine an open range forest. Where mammoths and a variety of strange warm blooded creatures thrived. Amongst these a giant ground sloth. It's amazing how we accept so much of what we learn about, but we just don't really get it until were slammed with the reality of it. So let me recommend to you the giant ground sloth that's on display at the Field Museum in Chicago, Illinois. Notice the huge barrel chest the ground sloth has. Well... ask yourself this question:  Did the ground sloth howl?

     Return now to the Pleistocene. Hundreds of giant ground sloths feeding and howling as the sun sets. Their big barrel chests' producing their uncanny vociferations. A sound like the earth has never known before. And off in the distance listening and preparing for the evening is a form of man. How primitive this setting. How wild the distant sounds. Huge barreled howls resonating in the ambient dusk. Music's first debut in her earliest recognition of thought on earth. Music performed and heard.
 

From the old comes the new  

     So let's bring Music forward to Manhattan, New York City. Have you ever heard of a place called "Tin Pan Alley?" One of the wildest times Music has ever had was in "Tin Pan Alley." It's possible to feel a time gone by through Music. These feelings help bring out our higher selves. From the ivory tusk of mammoths to the ivory keys on the pianos playing in Tin Pan Alley. The music publishing center of the world. An evolution of sounds and words flowing through time, spiraling into the poetry of Tin Pan Alley.

     I agree that much of what your reading here comes from my imagination. However, I disagree with the Futurists of our time. A Futurist might tell you don't worry, with the advancements of technology, computers will write your music for you. Interesting, what does a song written by a computer program sound like? What music samples are used against sporadic patterns? And with this new genesis of sound pinging over the airways, will the world be a better place because of it? Well, have you been listening to the radio lately? Never thought you'd see the day when maybe having that lost occupation called "Music Critics" all of a sudden become essential, and they need to return to Music. This way we can weed out the computer programmers and get back to human artist. So back to the Futurist. You Futurists cannot see as far as the imagination can see. Like poetry, imagination is beyond computers. I dare any Futurist to come forward and tell the truth. The truth being that computers are just a crutch that man will use along his journey. Take a look further down the road. We people will pass computers up, and these machines will fall into the past. So what is this corrupt idea of machines writing our music for us? We, who are made in the image of God.

 

Tin Pan Alley

Come, and take a walk, down the streets of Tin Pan Alley.
Music will be waiting there, and she'll show you what you need.
Do you know me?  Oh yes I know you
And will you hold me?  And I will hold you
But do you see me?  Oh yes I see you
And since you know me, just tell them that you saw me
Your troubles, sorrows and care, She was always willing to share
A wild sort of devil, But dead on the level
Was my Gal Sal
Once in awhile, you will come to know someone
The floor will become the wild and will give you what you want.
Now, that we've evolved, from the Pleistocene when sloths did howl.
One million, eight hundred thousand years before...
Your troubles....  Was my Gal Sal...
Evening lights are, glowing in a damsels eyes
Warming up the tin pan drums
Playing on the pianos
Just tell them that you saw me
Come, and take a walk, down the streets of Tin Pan Alley.
Music will be waiting there, and she'll show you what you need.
Live, and live again, through the brownstone -
mansions night-life whims.
The city stars were brighter back then
And the beat in the alley just roared

                                  Paul Dresser

 

click here for larger print
Free Download!
TinPanAlley.mp3

  • left-click to play the song now
  • right-click then “Save Target As...” (when using Internet Explorer) to save to your computer

 Let the Sea Roar

Begins the sudden travel of a storm
The land is still uncut, a rivers born
The sun reaps what it will from the sand
A hallow wind blows upon the land
Let the sea roar, and the fullness thereof
There's time for peace, there's time for us
A drifters love, is weathered hard
We all belong, let the sea roar
Many a day has vanished in the haze
Millions of people bow their heads to pray
The gift you seek is on the edge of time
If what you need is love, then don't stop trying
Let the sea roar, and...
The rivers flowing, give us love
The rivers flowing, give us hope
High in the canyon, let the sea roar
The sun is burning, in his soul
The sun is burning, we need hope
The drifter cries, let the wind blow
Millions of people, on the edge
Millions of people, sea of hope
The gift you need, will move your soul
Begins the sudden travel of a storm
The land is still uncut...
Let the sea roar, and...

Paul Dresser

 

click here for larger print
Free Download!
LetTheSeaRoar.mp3

Walk Through The Garden

Once there was a time, I hung upon the vine.
I didn't really think the days would ever pass me by.
So I walked down through the wilderness and all I knew was right,
was changing my hopes and dreams, back into wine.
I couldn't sense, just where the puzzle begins.
Didn't even realize the doors were all pieces.
And there to be recalled was a glorious moment,
when I walked through the garden, and learned to live.
I'll walk through the garden and live again.
If I had a chance, somewhere back in my past.
Well I must have lost the match, and broke my wooden lance.
But I don't give up so easy, when steel and honor crash.
Saved from the debris stands my dignity by Gods helping hand.
As I walk through the garden and learn to live.
I'll walk through the garden, and live again.

Paul Dresser

 

click here for larger print
Free Download!
WalkThroughTheGarden.mp3

eventide music genre     Eventide     Eve-n-Tide
Who is Paul Dresser?     Video and Article

Site Created & Hosted by
Jim Sullivan
Web Design

 

Eventide Poetry Music
©2010-2016 All rights reserved.

 

Contact us at
dresser2dresser@gmail.com