Author: Samuel A. Johnson

Here are two more compositions. The first is a hard-hitting thing I call, “Four Rooms,” or, sometimes, “Four Conversations,” and the second is one of the saddest songs I ever wrote. I call it, “When You Are Old.” I couldn’t ever write words to it, beyond, “When you are old, and lie next to me, and your skin is cold, I’ll take your hand, I’ll hold you tightly, wishing you’d carry me into the sunset with you.” Hope you like them.

New songs. First a march, in case you have found a cause (and who hasn’t these days) to march for or against. And second, one to calm your soul and get you back home in peace. Have fun for a couple minutes.

Here are the latest couple pieces of music from my imagination. Enjoy!

A couple short pieces. I’m especially fond of 201. The little bass rumble does it for me.

I don’t know what my life might have been like if I’d been able to make music like this when I was a kid listening to Tchaikovsky and Beethoven and Brahms. I couldn’t imagine sitting at a computer and getting sounds like this, even though it is generally less esthetically pleasing than a real orchestra. I have no training in music, but if I could have done this, I might have dived into a music major.