Christmas Graphics for Myspace
Myspace Layouts & HTML Codes

Verity Keen and Jillianne Wright are sisters in music. we sometimes add a few videos to make this page look brighter.

Father Christmas v Father Time ?
Novelty jingle song with guitar based backing and spoken/sung vocals

h h

I think I'm coming down with you
Sultry Piano ballad with choral parts

Acoustic Rock
h h

Love from 4 directions
Basic Blues chords which are hardly evident because of the vocal arrangement and progression of impact with harmonies and orchestral extras

Alternative Blues
h h

The imps of love
A deep and sincere vocal with orchestral backing and slow rock rhythm

h h

They Say Seeing Is Believing
A mix of funky beats and deep sultry vocals

Funky Techno
h h

When ya grow up
Upbeat Blues with split harmonies

h h

A bipolar production of switching moods and manic beats. Strange non-language

Alternative Leftfield
h h

She's A Naughty Girl !
Pleasant little song with an interesting narrative and expressive vox

Retro Pop
h h

Out of sight, out of mind
piano/strings/electronic smooth with some rhythm - wordy verse and melodic chorus

Soul Fusion
h h

Let bygones be bygones
Piano backed dirge type vocal ballad with a nice build

Alternative Ballad
h h

Listen, you'll like it

Easy Listening/Soft Rock
h h

I really, really want a Golden Kayak ?
A folk rhythm but richer and broader - doubled vox - novelty spoken extracts

Alternative Folk Rock
h h

The Hop on Pop Song
60s beat Pop/Rock with a cacophony of layered vocals - the lyrics are just plain silly with lots of popping and hopping till you're fit for dropping

Brit Pop
h h

They Call Themselves Indies
Jillianne's symphonic music plays for a slightly different sounding Verity

h h

A life unlived
For anyone who ever lost anyone close, the pain never goes away

h h

The pride of Lady the loneliest lioness
Beats and rap/sing with ambient choral sections

ambient groove
h h

I gOt IsSuEs
Electronic beats and instrumental top over a chanted narrative from a slightly crazy lady

h h

A girl for all seasons
tender ballad

h h

Tumultus Interruptum
Rolling orchestral undulations pierced by disrespectful interruptions

left field
h h

Comments                                                Add new Comment   View All

Verity Keen

12/9/2017 10:06:17 AM
Jilly and Verity would like to thank everyone who took the trouble to visit our page, especially if they played a song or two. We wish you all a happy musical future - Verity xx Jilly :)



View All                ©2015-2016 Indie Music People             All Rights Reserved


Like (link to) this page Stream      

UK /Uploads2/165206_12_13_2017_2_28_30_PM_-_Verity_IMP2.jpg
Photo Gallery Blog PM ArtistMail

Last logged in: 12/14/2017 1:15:36 AM         Pageviews:  934

Poetry is my first love
Songs are my bit on the side
One Man Band

You were born to this world like some alien messiah, always precocious, ahead of your peers
Your interests were high and your energy higher, mind always busting with unique ideas
Deep and intriguing, touched and effected, mind never shuts off, sleep is a waste
You're easily hurt and can soon feel dejected, annoyed by the people who prattle in haste

Being a tortured genius is a blessing and a curse
you're misunderstood, or rejected, or worse
But you don't really want them to understand
You're just happy as an island, or a one-man-band

You form an opinion and stand to defend, despising injustice, detesting unfair
You're honest and open and never pretend that the gifts you possess aren't exceedingly rare
Your world is so complex yet somehow it's right, you remember the detail of things that you love
Though your interpretation seems odd at first sight, soon the logic shines through like a shaft from above

Being a tortured genius is fraught with pain and angst
You're filled with frustration and you get little thanks
But genius and insanity go hand in hand
You're a happy oasis or a one-man-band
Blame the moon

Blame the moon, that sneaky moon... It turns the tides, then runs and hides - attacks my brain 'til I'm insane - cold and deathly white, it hunts its prey at night like howling wolves and owls and bats and ghosts of sickly feral cats

Afternoon, early moon, Summer will be over soon - Days long all gone, Fall is coming fast
Short night, alright, guess you won't put up a fight. head for the back door, I knew you wouldn't last

Winter was on holiday, over the hills and far away, I can feel its feet of clay stomping down my street
Rosy apples, ripe to fall, waiting for their Autumn call - Last dance of the Summer Ball but I can't leave my seat

Blame the moon, that sneaky moon... It turns the tides, then runs and hides - attacks my brain 'til I'm insane - cold and deathly white, it hunts its prey at night like howling wolves and owls and bats and ghosts of sickly feral cats

Full moon, dull moon, just a floating gas balloon - can't wait to inflate with harvest on the dinner plate
Dark skies, white lies, you ain't got no alibis, old wise dreary guys, your turn again to dominate

Summer was a promise lost, wouldn't last at any cost, won't be bullied, won't be bossed, stubborn little season
Never did commit to stay, showed your face then ran away, turned the lush green grass to hay for no particular reason

Blame the moon, that sneaky moon... It turns the tides, then runs and hides - attacks my brain 'til I'm insane - cold and deathly white, it hunts its prey at night like howling wolves and owls and bats and ghosts of sickly feral cats

I'll hound you moon, confound you moon, take away your silver spoon - All year long, switch off and on your silly, grinning stare
Pull me, push me, but you will never hush me - my dreams it seems, split at the seams 'neath your compelling glare
Song spoilers

Some songs will grab attention like a streaker at a game.
But pretty soon the wobbly bits will start to hang in shame.

Some songs indulge in foreplay, they tempt you and they tease
But they don’t get down to business, it’s just themselves they please.

Some songs will come on heavy, they really do your head in
Full of fat and juicy gravy but no room to dip your bread in

Some songs are filled with angels, it’s rude to turn away
But for a touch of devilment it’s Hell you’ll have to pay

Some songs touch perfection, they just stand out a mile
With a musical erection that oozes quality and style.

Some songs will pull your heart strings and take you back in time
But you’ve been there too often, like the Christmas pantomime

Some songs are plucking genius, you listen mouth agape
But after 14 minutes you’re begging for escape.
A Virtual Pandemic

Twisted minds and fat behinds - faceless nerdy friends
Joining gangs where victory hangs in landscapes without ends

Playing games with warlike names and weaponry to harm
Setting scenes in virtual dreams, disturbing inner calm

Cyber Space, the only place that holds the master key
Locked into a website zoo with bars they cannot see

There is no break from sleep to wake as day morphs into night
Their avatar is who they are, in constant fight or flight

They curse and bitch, this nagging itch to play uninterrupted
Too late for rules, these helpless fools are totally corrupted

Hey you, picky little stickler, you're so punctilious about trifles. You're like a monkey picking out lice during monkey business.

My house may look amazing but they focus on the dust
I buy myself a vintage car, they can't see past the rust
My hair can look fantastic, but there's lipstick on my teeth
They must lift up my works of art to see what lies beneath

Nitpickers with their knickers in a twist
They'll keep on picking nits because they really can't resist
They point out every pointless slip, each trivial mistake
Stop scrutinizing me you petty freak, for Heaven's sake

They wrongly think I'd want to know, they're "doing me a favor"
If I need that kind of help I'll surely ask
They're dedicated to the cause and they will never waiver
Guess someone has to do this thankless task

Finding fault in detail seems to be your raison d'etre
You're such a big gnat strainer, a pedantic martinet
Why do you kill the moment, why can't you let it slide
Are you a Grammar Nazi, can't you see the picture wide

I write a heartfelt letter to tell them how I feel
but the spelling and the typos turn out to be the deal
Their eyes ain't on the main event, just sideline happenings
If I were and angel they'd find spinach in my wings

Mystery Radio
Desperado Revue
Indie Wavelength
External Forces
The Good Stuff: VI
Bitchin' Songs

12/13/2017 2:28:30 PM
Last pageview at: 12/15/2017 5:38:10 AM
Pageviews: 934

Verity Keen