Ambient Soundscapes - Rainy City Night Detective Office Film Noir Jazz Mix
Vložit
- čas přidán 23. 07. 2022
- Hi to all Ambient Soundscapes subscribers! We want to thank you all for supporting the channel
and finding inspiration and joy in the atmospheres we have been attempting to create.
This channel is not monetized and to allow us to continue making videos we kindly ask our subscribers and supporters to please consider doing the following:
Subscribe to and support our new movie channel: / @screensensechannel
We hope and trust that our new channel will get monetized and allow us to continue creating content
for Ambient Soundscapes as well.
Thank you.
Track List:
1. Electric Espresso
2. Just for Me
3. Dark Blue Velvet
4. So True
5. Dinner for Two
6. Later that Same Evening
7. Dark Blue Velvet
8. Light as a Feather in My Arms
9. Always Be Mine
10. Just Another Case of Love
11. Blue Haze
12. Universal Truth
13. Cute Doll
14. Meandering-Monday
15. Swing
16. Travelers Soul
17. The Goal in Life
18. Romantic
19. Let Me Interject Here
20. Dim the Lights
21. Slow Jazz Piano
22. A World of My Own
Tracks were sourced from:
CZcams Audio Library - free
Audio Hero - requires a subscription - audiohero.systemsinteractive.ca/
Pixabay Music - requires attribution - pixabay.com/music/
freestockmusic.com - requires attribution
Synchedin.com - requires a subscription
As requested by many here is a smooth film noir jazz mix with rain and period city street sounds. Spend a rainy night in a seedy noir detective office listening to smooth jazz as the city lives and breathes outside the window. To be used for relaxation, inspiration, and imagination.
Other recommended videos:
Western Outlaw - • Epic Spaghetti Western...
Afternoon Sunshower - • Rain Sounds for Relaxi...
If you enjoy my videos, please hit the subscribe button and notification bell to make sure you never miss a new video upload. - Zábava
Track list added to description!
Thanks! Appreciate your support and glad you enjoy the videos. I will upload another noir video soon, so keep an eye out!
Thank you so much for this playlist! I used it for the music in a film I made for school czcams.com/video/z7iClRj18qc/video.htmlsi=fHwJj11FtVkiNhui
Please never take this video down... It's a home to me now.
“Babe please stop commenting on blues playlists about rainy nights, you’re not a 1950’s P.I.”
“Beat it toots, these streets ain’t what they used to be.”
😂😂😂😂😂
😂
💓
😂😂😂
Ya know, sometimes we fantasize about living in another time period, but really this is the best time period because we have the ability to relive all the others at a moment's notice.
I always remember hearing from other time periods about how advanced the future would be. Well, we're in the future now: smartphones, the internet, virtual reality, AI (regardless of your stance on it). It may not be robots, jetpacks and flying cars, but it's more than any other time period could ask for.
im cry
What would you rather have; an eternity of illusions, or one lifetime of the real thing?
"Einstein was right. Time is relative to the observer. When you're looking down the barrel of a gun time slows down, your whole life flashes by, heartbreak and scars. Stay with it, and you can live a lifetime in that split second."
Макс Пэйн шикарно
Nuh uh
Nice one tracer bullet
@@williedunkley4026wasn’t expecting a Calvin and Hobbes reference here but I’m not complaining
Nice line, is it from something
The rain was a bitter cocktail of boredom, misery, and loneliness; it swept through the city's corridors, urging the sleepless to take asylum. I found myself looking down the one way street of another late night. Time was a set of doors; one led to a world where it was too late to go grab a beer, and through the other, too early for the morning paper. I was stuck in a purgatory supervised by the smug-faced clock hanging above my office door. The words Private Investigator were etched into the glass door pane-the name underneath, faded from memory.
The rain hit the concrete hard as if it was a territorial beast trying to keep me away. I lay there with my eyes open in my dark bedroom, might as well lay with my eyes closed there wasnt much of a difference. Normally my mind wanders and my sense heighten when im unable to see a thing but tonight i lay there uncaring like a man who's gave up and has accepted the fate that hes going to die. I look at my alarm clock, the only bit of light fighting to illuminate the dark room, and think "i wish it wasnt time" 10:44 one minute away from the loud annoying surrogate mother waking me up to get ready for school when i refuse to get out of bed. But this wasnt school i was getting ready for this time, this was work, and work was depressing. I beat the clock and turned it off as if i was in competition to see who could race quicker, and pull back the covers. "Another long night"
Only addition I'd make is "a bitter cocktail of boredom and burbon, misery or loneliness; it swept..."
Otherwise that was perfect (to the original comment)
Then she entered the room. She had the kind of legs you'd want to suck on for a day.
Beautifully written
"There was no glory in this. I hadn't asked for this crap. Trouble had come to me, in big dark swarms. The good and the just, they were like gold dust in this city. I had no illusions. I was not one of them. I was no hero. Just me and the gun, and the crook. My options had decreased to a singular course." - Max Payne
"Everything was subjective. There were only personal apocalypses. Nothing is a cliche when it's happening to you."
"Just the man I've been killing to see..."
Working 3rd shift as a security guard, you start to feel like a private eye. Walked on, and under paid. This music keeps me going.
"The guard leaned back against the brick wall, looking up at the night sky. He had never seen such a beautiful sight. He grinned and chuckled to himself.
Tonight was going to be a busy night. But, with a view like this, who could argue? He smiled, and went back to work."
Just a lil short story for you, my friend.
And hey. Have a good one, alright? Hang in there, pal
Everyone else: I'm something of a poet myself.
Me: *Just enjoys good music while at work*
I honestly can't help but cringe whenever I see these randos think themselves the Nicholsons of their Chinatowns
@@lotanowo I agree. I'm an author, but I've never liked listening to random fragments of stories out of context. I even dislike it when there's a question like: "What would your main character do in this situation?"
Because I simply don't have the context to care about the character if I don't know the story. These random paragraphs feel the same to me.
Boo! Boring.
Let em cook 🔥, for me there's only a couple diamonds in the rough I like that all feel very introductory. It's a nice pairing, the music and the smattering of different detective adjacent stories. ❤
I personally like them, it feels like I'm walking around a hall and get to peer into windows of various movie scenes.
Hits the spot when you're in the mood.
I must always be in the mood
To crack a case of murder?
That's what she said
Dames and trouble both taste the same to my over-the-hill, nicotine-stained tongue. Both of them have unique reasons why private dicks like us wanna get into them. Where I'm from, trouble is always brewin'. The dames-they're brewin', alright-but mostly black coffee.
"Gimme a full cup o' trouble, would ya, Toots," I'd say to this one saucy bird I once knew. Worked the late shift at the corner diner. I knew she was brewin' more than just coffee, but I couldn't help myself; Trouble was her middle name, and she wore it like a badge on her sleeve.
Her black coffee was the hottest in town, if you catch my drift. And she'd burn you all the way down to your toenails, if you let 'er in. The key was taking her sip by sip till she had time to cool off just enough to go down all the way. Yeah, her brew was somethin', alright-sweet, warm, and wetter than the jungles of Timbuktu.
Makes you feel like an actual detective
Justice isn’t enough. Claire and Maria deserve more.
Calling my childhood hard would be an understatement. To put it simply - shit sucked. Mom died early; had a bad ticker her whole life. Pop didn’t stick around for that part. No brothers, no sisters, just little Herk left to fend for himself. Playing in the streets, getting rowdy, running from his problems. Same shit, different world. It wasn’t until my first real dig with some friends of mine on my 21st birthday that I found some sense of self-worth.
I had my share of drinks before I was legal, but the crew I was with at the time made sure to show me a good time. We weren’t really a gang so much as we were a group of deadbeats trying to keep ourselves alive in the face of any trouble we could scrounge up. So on my 21st, we did it big. Any drink and drug under the sun, you name it - I found a way to get it in me. Maybe we shouldn’t have robbed that (liquor store), maybe we should have just passed out and started over. But I guess I wouldn’t be here today if we did, huh? Ha.
I blacked out. Woke up in a cell next to one of my crew, handcuffed to a stranger, no clue how I got there. Head still ringing, some officer with dirt on his boots and rust on his gun started yelling at me. He’d been there for a while. I followed him, the whole time him telling me how stupid I was. can’t say I would argue with him, looking back on it. We walked for what felt like a year until he walked me out the back door, free to roam the streets again. I had no idea why anyone would let a punk kid like me out without anything more than a slap on the wrist. I don’t remember much, but I’ll never forget what he said before he turned back inside: “Ol’ Zeek would’ve wanted it this way.” How the fuck did he know Pop? I never found out. But I knew that day who I wanted to be.
Fast forward about 10 or 15 years and Herk made himself a Captain. Working cases, chasing the bad guys, you know the story. One day Chief puts me on a real tough one. A classic murder mystery - my favorite. This goon had been chopping up locals of New Valla for too long. But he hadn’t met Herk Bruntus yet.
I pull up to the building. Too much smoke to see just about anything. Fire team is there, but perp is still inside, holding up some hostage. Not this time. I ready up and move in. Floors of smoke and ash, I can’t see or hear a thing. The fire screamed louder than any hostage could have. I got to the fifth floor and heard a whimper I would never mistake for anything else - this motherfucker had my Maria. I charge through the room - nothing. Break down the closet door - nothing. I look around and hear her again. I throw my body against a wall on a hunch, and I freeze. He has her, barrel against her head, trigger finger ready to squeeze. The fear in Maria’s eyes haunts me to this day. I raise my gun as he pulls the trigger, and I see my wife’s life leave her eyes in slow motion. He smiles, drops her body, and vanishes into thin air. I run to her body, and I see Claire right behind her - she’s been dead longer than I’ve been in the building.
I spent the next decade working on other cases, since the boss man had someone else working my family’s case. It burned me up, but I knew why. Conflict of interest…still gets me to this day. I spent time in secret doing my own work for Claire and Maria off the record. This clown had no dirt on him one way or the other - but I knew I’d never forget that face. Some sort of sorcerer or shapeshifter type. It got to the point where I couldn’t focus on my current cases, and I was letting it all affect my work. The chief knew what was going on. One day he brings me into his office, sits me down, and tells me he’s got to let me go. I knew the risk I was running. My days in the force were over. Or so I thought…
New Valla has been running rampant with crime over the last few years. I’ve been in retirement since that day with the Chief - they actually got me set up pretty good - trying to keep my mind busy. I almost always fail. Things have gotten so bad lately that they’ve been asking reformed criminals to help clean up the town. Not sure how I feel about that, but if it means less killers on the loose, I guess I can’t argue too hard.
The Chief ended up getting shot on the job. He was a good man. His son took over for him, and recently found himself on my doorstep. I buzzed him up, and we got to talking. Catching up, I’m telling him stories about his old man. He smiled at me, paused, and stared into my soul. “What if I told you we had a lead on your girls’ killer?” I stood up. I’d never thought anyone would learn anything real about this piece of shit.
"Here’s the catch. The Council of 8 & 2 have promoted Detective Thane McKannon to Chief Inspector, and allowed him to build his own unit in Center City North.”
Fucking McKannon. Not a soul in the NVPD that doesn't know that name. When they took me off the Vanish case, I had only hoped he'd pick it up.
"Chief McKannon was at my father's funeral. He asked for a favor, and told me to give you this."
The boy handed me a letter, and shut the door behind him. It was sealed with a wax picture of a preyton - I could still smell the smokes and whiskey. The letter said "Herk Bruntus. I've heard you have unfinished business. It's a goddamn shame they retired an investigator with a record like yours. If retirement doesn't suit you well, come see me. I got an open desk in my unit, and a badge with your name on it. P.S. - I have a lead on your killer. Call it my retirement gift to you." I thought for only a second - that bastard took everything from me. "Fuck," I breathed out.
I'm in.
Incredible!
@@HH4nn4hh thank you! Wrote it for my character in a noir detective campaign my buddy wrote.
Holy crap!!! Why this doesn’t have more likes is beyond me! You have a special talent as a writer my friend.
@@00andrescab00 you are far too kind! This is only my second character background I’ve ever written, so this means the world. Thank you so much!
@@billconway3225 thank you so much!
“Ain’t nothing that can liven up a lonely night like your old buddies, Jack and Daniel. Always familiar, but you spend too much time around them and even things you knew your whole life can seem as foreign as the labels on imported brew. But better company than the drink is a tall glass of water, like the gams moving about onstage. They led up past the dress they’d been poured into, curving about like a fine sculpture. And that voice, by god, like angels singing. Even in this dilapidated minefield of hops and heat, you look deep enough, you’ll find gold. Then again, that’s what I do; find things. Even if they don’t wanna be found.”
To the person reading this, Good Luck! Don't stress, everything will be fine. No matter what difficulty you are facing right now, you can overcome it! You are strong and brave
im gonna die in 2 weeks
thanks you so much
God bless you too 🙏🏽🥰
The comments are even better than the music!😂
Mais grave !
Her name was Melissa Temple. I think of her more than anyone I've ever been with. We were just two kids in high school who thought we knew what love was. One day, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life and broke up with her for a nice pair of legs that wouldn't open for me. Years later, we were at different colleges and linked up again. We talked about how our lives were, and came to the realization that we would never be. Now, I can't help but think "what if?" I guess that is one of lives great mysteries. From now until the end of my life, she will be in my heart forever.
No.
@@GentlemanLife-Beyotch No what?
yes
At least...
_...That's what I thought._
That all changed when she came into my office, drenched in sweat and rain, a terrified look in her eyes...
@@thegameknight8916 Damn. I like where this is going.
Trying to find sleep but it's never around when I need it most.
The sound of the rain on the bedroom window, reminds me of other
nights in small winter hotels, when I drank Bushmills whiskey,
smoked Lucky Strike, unfiltered, whispered to a mature
woman
and made love in the wee small hours.
A life lived in another time and space.
The touch of her perfumed hair on my cheek,
the soft smooth skin ,that tasted like butter and almonds,
The drift of smoke across the darkened bedroom,
The warmth of the whiskey in my mouth,
Her soft laughter in my ear,her arm across my chest.
We thought we had forever, an illusion born of love and pleasure,but we were
wrong. Life and reality catches up, the years drift by and you are a different
man.
What's left are the memories and thoughts on a night like this,
when the rain sounds like pebbles on the window pane,
and you chase the shadows of sleep.
I'm getting some strong Nick Valentine vibes. 🤖💼🚬🎶
thats what im 100% using this as lol, him vibes all the way.
It looked like rain, so I got up to close the window. That guy on the sidewalk was still playing his sax.
He was good, but I had heard enough for one day.
When I turned back to my desk, she was already standing in front of it.
"Can I help you?", I said.
"No, Mr. Starker, I'm here to help you.", she whispered. "You placed a Want Ad for a secretary in today's paper. I'd like to apply for the position."
"Cookie, you can have any position you want." I replied, "You're hired as of now. And from now on, call me Mick."
"Oh, thank you Mr, uh, Mick." she squealed, "You don't know how happy this makes me."
"Sit down, sugar, pour yourself a drink. We've got all night to get to know each other. And you don't know how happy this'll make me!", I said as I removed my tie.
That's when the phone rang. That's when it all started to go sideways.
Who could've figured that she'd wind up dead, and I'd be sitting in a jail cell talking to you?
plot twist maybe she faked her death and sit you up, maybe because of a good reason or not..
Brilliantly written!
@@derpychris9817 Thanks!
I'm in where can I read the rest of the story?
@@seacamtv It's in my head!
This is brilliant.
There is so much talent on CZcams. People doing film noir, sci-fi, horror, neo-noir( including Blade Runner)... Providing us all with a ticket to any time and place we want.
Why do these people get peanuts while silly pop-culture crap gets millions?
Because the popular masses are so many flocks of sheep without tastes or personalities... the proof is enough to see the line at McDonald's every lunchtime!
I was born in 2003 and i love this type of jazz thats why i started thinking i was born in the wrong year noir jazz hits different
I'm almost ashamed to admit having discovered Bohren & Der Club of Gore yesterday.
Strangely enough most actual film noir movies at the time didn't even use jazz music, they favored orchestral soundtracks. The jazz element was really added in later on in neo noir movies from I think the 60's or 70's onward
After a long day's work, I tried to kick it back and relax with a hot cup of coffee. Sleep won't come so why bother? I stare out the window and saw an alley cat shivering under the rain and nowhere to go. Same goes for everyone else in this city. We all shiver, even the old buildings dripping. It's a cold night all right. But the clock's still ticking and sleep never comes easy.
"The nights here in Coptropolis are cold, and the beds are rough. Sometimes... You've just gotta shelf yourself."
- Charlie Slimecicle, 2024
You must mean a hot cup of joe.
I love this! I have the same typewriter Hunter Green. It’s a Olympia SM4 Manual typewriter made in 1959 in Germany. Looks, types like new. Use it almost every day. I have (I Love Lucy) phone too. Like new and works. I just like antique products. I’m 73 so I love the technology of the past. I don’t do facebook, twitter and any other social media things. Also, when. Write a letter,no distractions and my typewriter never crashes. Thanks for the music and sound effects.
I've used fountain pens for decades. I've had Mountblancs, Parkers, cheap Watermans, expensive OMAS Paragon. So much nicer to take it out, unscrew the cap. And write. Write anything. Doodle anything. Just feels ajd looks better when done with a fountain pen. As a retired attorney, using a fountain pens is just so much old fashioned elegance.
"Look angel, you don't know what it's like - I'm the one out there every day putting his tail on the line. I'm not out of order, you're out of order. The whole stinkin' system is out of order! And you want the truth: you can't handle the truth. Cause when you reach over and put your hand into a pile of goo that was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do. Forget it, toots, it's Chinatown."
Brilliant word salad...
I didn't know her. Nobody knew her. She disappeared into the rain and took the night with her...trailing sad sax and leftover sighs...
when i heard this song, i feels like meet detective in 80s, thank you so much for this calming song, have a good day.
Beat it toots, these streets ain't what they used to be.
There's a time to talk and a time to shut up. Now is the time to be quiet, son. LA Noire
The sound of rain hitting the concrete was a welcome ambiance on a night like tonight. The bright neon lights of the city created a beautiful haze in the downpour, though, most would not take notice, too absorbed in their schedules and plans. The same lack of attention that made tonight the perfect time for taking out some high caliber trash. He’d been paid half in advance; the other half only being delivered after the job is done. No time like the present, he was already about to make a few pitstops. Nobody knew him anyways. While his work name was notorious, he had made it a point to not leave a trace, not so much as a hair, whenever he was on a job. If he wasn’t as meticulous as he had to be, the most likely outcome would be a few life sentences, and that’s just without the possible penalty of execution...
That’s beside the point, he has work to do. Gotta pay the bills, so it’s time to make the donuts. Shifting his hands into the pockets of his lengthy coat, he made long, even strides, determined to get to his pre-scouted spot in a run-down apartment building, which was conveniently positioned linear to his target’s bedroom window. Whoever placed the hit on this man made it clear that there would be no second chances, it had to be quick, clean, a split-second death, and off to the nearby bar like nothing happened in the first place. After he verifies the kill, his second payment will be waiting in that bar, all he has to do is slip the barkeep a small card he was given, get his cash, and get the fuck out of dodge. Easy peasy, clean and simple, right? Wrong. Everything went terribly wrong. The moment he stepped into the building, something felt off. Maybe it was the air, maybe it was the ominous atmosphere, he doesn’t know what caused it to feel that way. His gut told him, maybe this is a job he can come back to another day, with some more planning. But, as all men sometimes do, he overlooked it, shrugged it off like a dirty jacket, and left it at the door. He had no idea how wrong he was for doing that, but he’d soon find out.
The 16th floor, 3rd largest window facing the Garmon Tower, right on the balcony; that’s the spot. From this point, aiming downwards by 25 degrees, to the left by 13 degrees, his scope was positioned on the right pillow of the suite belonging to Mr. Garmon Jr. himself, the fat, greedy, human trafficking bastard. Though it isn’t in his usual pattern to feel anger towards his targets, this was a special case. Grimy fucker caused so many parents to lose their young children, so many families to lose their joy and hope for the world, all because he wanted to make a quick buck. It’s vile, disgusting, sickening, to know that he had gotten away with this shit for over 8 years, but it ends today. Today, he pays his debt with his life. Who better to take what he owes than the Debt Collector himself?
The only warning he got was the quick shuffle of work boots, before the world went dark, and he couldn’t breathe. For what felt like an eternity, he was carried like a sack of potatoes, before he was unceremoniously dropped, more like a sack of lead, into a wooden chair that felt both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. The burlap sack was ripped from over his head, and he looked up to see the man he was supposed to take out tonight, casually smoking, accompanied by what he assumed were two very money hungry women in his lap, one on each leg. Garmon put out his cigar, leaving the unfinished blunt in the overused and under cleaned ashtray he had, mounted on his desk, large and dark. It was the kind of desk you’d expect some hot shot CEO to have, clearly bought out of an overinflated ego, somehow inflated more than his gut.
“So, you thought you would just walk your ass up those stairs, shoot me, and get away like nothing happened? Tell me you aren’t that naïve, because that is a very bad look for someone with a reputation like your’s.”
“Shit.”
This music gave me a weird burst of creativity, so I wrote this small story, to anyone reading it, I hope it was enjoyable 🍻
@@giov8955encore s'il vous plaît 😏
"In the span of an inward breath, the door opened. In stepped the dame. Angel Face floated in and looked me up and down. With me towering like Napoleon on a step stool and her at 6'0" in high heels... it was mostly down."
"As the jazz curls around me like smoke, I'm reminded of the haze that cloaks my days. Each puff whispers tales of secrets yet to be uncovered, mysteries waiting to be unraveled. Until our paths cross again, I'll be lost in the labyrinth of smoke and stories... "
You’re drinking a nice cold glass of whiskey. Smoking the finest cigar. Reminiscing the past.
"It was a rainy day. Perfect weather for me as I sat down and took a sip of my whiskey and gazed out the window. I couldnt help but think of her... She was the perfect woman for me, and she knew exactly what I was thinking of. But it just didn't work out for me and her. Soon, we cut ties. Never saw her again. Thats the harsh realities of life, Wyatt. One moment you and a beautiful woman could be dancing and the next moment you two cut off."
I love this. Just randomly appeared in my feed, decided to listen. The rain began, and I thought "ok, this is nice" but when the music began I was literally in heaven. So smooth, so relaxing, so enjoyable.
Perfect for relaxing in bed and for doing small work. Thank you. 🙌🏼
Awesome! Thank you!
"When the darkness fell, New York City became something else, any old Sinatra song notwithstanding. Bad things happened in the night, on the streets of that other city. Noir York City."
It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents-except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
"This city, this stinking city, every downpour, every storm, it reminds me how far we've come, and how far we've fallen. Only thing keeping it together is the men and women at the Precinct. And even they aren't above getting a taste. This job will leave you hollow and doesn't keep you fed. Always gotta watch yourself you never know who's on the take."
listening to this while playing shadows of doubt makes you 10% smorter
Thank you *SO* much. Exactly what I needed in my Jazz playlist for those grey, overcast days.
Yeah! Some worthy detective noir writers here in the comments...perfect to read while listening...hope this isn't AI, these days you never know...
She sat the bar beauty illuminating bright enough to make a blind man see the light. I glance around the well lit room, yet she seemed to be much brighter, and noticed she had every mans gaze. Their attention fixated on her like a kid watching cartoons on a Saturday afternoon not hearing their parents yell their name to come get lunch, and i was watching the same program. She was beautiful, beautiful enough that if hollywood knew about her; they would beg and would bend at the knee and grant any wish she had like a personal genie. I approach the bar contemplating wether or not to sit next to the empty seat beside her, but as like fly drawn to light i was drawn to that empty spot despite what my instincts were telling me. She looked at me, eyes exposing a gorgeous soul and smiled. I smiled, heart beating loud enough to drown out the melancholy music playing over the speakers and ordered a drink. Her aroma was something indescribable and intoxicating, that i swear if i got up i would fall off my feet as if ive had too much to drink. I always wondered what the singing of sirens sounded like to make a man go to his impending doom and i pictured her voice when she spoke to me, and greeted me with a "Hi"
Here's an excerpt of a book I might write one day. It was a quiet night at the bar, the 'tender is finishing up cleaning some shot glasses before closing for the evening as a vixen in the corner sits idly by on what looked to be a brand new phone, swapping from Kaldia Tech to Schnee Tech. I just happened to have gotten fired from my work, yet again in the police department. Somehow though, that doesn't seem to stop other people from asking me to use my talents for school. "You know, you should start your own office for your work." Mandy, the bartender, speaks up as she puts up the glass she was cleaning. "Oh yeah? Where do you suppose I can set it up?" I asked, knowing damn well there ain't a single building within the city that hasn't been either abandoned, bought out, or filled with addicts across the city. "I have been meaning to renovate upstairs, you're almost homeless. Besides, you could use the credits." Mandy answers, before she coughs and spits into a nearby water bottle and debates to herself about lighting a cigar in her own establishment. "Does this room come with free rent?" I joked. Mandy nods and says, "As long as your business is running, so would be mine." It was then I went from a rejected homeless detective to the Bar's best friend and that day would send across a chain of events that I would never have seen coming when seven years later, that vixen would come into my office and ask for my help.
you never know you never know you never knowwwwwwwwwww 1000101010101101101110110111010
@@FresnoBoy6starNowadays, if a woman went to a bar and noticed that many men are looking at her, she would feel uncomfortable and leave the bar.
This is helping me with my new book.
It really is impossible to resist to monologue to noir music.
I actually played this on the background and lit a cigarette while typing my thesis. I don't smoke so I was coughing for 10 minutes. I have weak lungs. Anyway I love detective noir movies.
Haha, i guess you really played into the act there.
This reminds me of that "Babes and Bullets" episode of _Garfield & Friends._ I liked it. Much brain-refreshing jazz in this video was exactly played in that episode, with the acception of Lou Rawls singing the title of the song. I often would think of chillin in my bedroom window sill, looking outside at the lake watching people fishing, playing frisbee with their dog, barbecuing, just having a good time warming up to the outdoor life of earthly nature, and there's an absolute panoramic view of the city's skyline way in the background. That there is what listening to jazz music is like to me 😌
Mills came in like an unwanted wind chill in a stuffy room. We would have to suffer his brand of camp but by god, this just might relieve the tension in the air. It didn't.
I think I was the one who noticed it first. His normally cheery blue eyes now as gray and dull as a deathbed war vet stranded lonely in hospice with little more than childhood memories and too much sad from too much hate.
They say some answers exact a heavy toll. That next hour saw our unit bankrupt.
I expect some would have looked for a career change there and then if they had enough to spend on some will to live.
Dead silence. Except for yours truly of course. That good friend living at the bottom drawer came a-calling for company and I obliged him proper at my desk with a rocks glass that clinked all the way to Blue Bayou.
What? It was going to be a long day so I figured that I better get started.
It went down like fire and blood.
Awful how fitting that is.
I laughed through my first whiskey fit, cleared my throat, poured another then laughed again.
No use crying these days. No use at all.
I agree 😢🥱🥲
Immediately imagine Leslie Nelson dialogue of him talking to himself about his next move.
And don't call me Shirley!
When the lonely sax starts playing, everyone turns into Mickey Spillane.
listening while reading maltese falcon is fun
"There are no choices. Nothing but a straight line. The illusion comes afterwards, when you ask 'Why me?' and 'What if?' when you look back, see the branches, like a pruned bonsai tree, or a forked lightning."
39:00 has to be one of my favorites
What is the name of the music?
Just a relaxing night of being the City's best detective. 😎
Can I like a list twice? Just such great ambiance, and best middle of stimulation and relaxing to keep me going all day. If anyone knows of similar playlists, could you sling them my way?
Wow, thank you!
Great music for when you have alot to think about.
Relaxing to this after watching Dragnet
As a listener of mood ambient music on YT for years, this is one of my favourites...
Beautiful music, that creates truly romantic detective atmosphere! Thank you!
Be seeing you, darlin'.
Listening to this while I sleep. I’m hoping it’ll keep my noir ideas in my head. I’m writing it right now, hoping to eventually post it as a podcast story
Rain fell in torrents, casting a gloomy veil over the city streets. The neon lights flickered, distorted by the cascading water, as the detective, clad in a worn trench coat, made his way through the deserted alleyways. The dimly lit lampposts created pools of light amidst the darkness, reflecting off the glistening pavement.
Poetry
As a criminology student, YES 😂
This makes me feel sooooo detective hehehe :3
Thank you for putting your amazing work out into the world.
You have made a lot of people very happy including me
The rain pattering and the thunder erupt from the window, which i see in all, likewise the streets of New York.
The dark city illuminated by the street lights has a dark shadow of undoings behind it.
39:01 Wait a minute… I know where this song comes from.
This is from PC version Jimmy Neutron vs. Jimmy Negatron. I use to play that game all the time as a kid and it had this very song! Just opened a locked memory lol
you could say... It was a _brain blast_
That last case killed me. I sat at my desk, poured a glass of scotch and lit a Marlboro. Then came the knock. A silhouette framed by the hallway light, appeared on the frosted glass of my office door. "Mr. Smith?" came the sultry tones of a woman's voice. The door opened and in she walked, Blonde hair, emerald eyes, red lipstick, in a white dress and legs that went all the way up, This was a dame I'd do time for, she was also the reason this was my last case.
Roger Smith, negotiator.
Jonathan Cooper, chocatier.
Guy Noir, English major...
Homer Simpson,smiling politely..
I'm so sad that all the other mixes got removed from the channel because I wanted to tell people who were invested that I am currently playing a Pathfinder Kingmaker game with a group of people and I'm writing these session notes from Iris's (the vampire detective) perspective to hopefully publish online somewhere. She's a kitsune vampire battling her father's genetics for sanity after being told to get off her ass by a kind stranger. My dm and I have yet to work out the details of the backstory and how she ended up where she did in the first place. To those of you who told me to write the book, I'm keeping detailed notes about the session as best I can to make it worth a read.
We are having issues with CZcams not wanting to monetize the channel and with Epidemic Sounds copyright claiming the tracks we used, even though we paid for the licenses to use them. So we had to remove some videos and are in the process of redoing some of them. Please watch this and consider helping us out to help the channel keep going: czcams.com/video/yI8_KflPeyo/video.html
TheRoseReaper Oh my gosh that's awesome! I'm so happy for you and you decided to keep going with it! I remember reading that story, it was so good and interesting! Good luck with it, I'm sure it's going to turn out great! I'd love to read it! How would I find out where you end up posting or publishing it?
@@wastelandmama1488 was gonna post the story online, but the problem is my campaign I was writing it for flopped due to dm needing to focus on college.
Nice
The rain hit the concrete hard as if it was a territorial beast trying to keep me away. I lay there with my eyes open in my dark bedroom, might as well lay with my eyes closed there wasnt much of a difference. Normally my mind wanders and my sense heighten when im unable to see a thing but tonight i lay there uncaring like a man who's gave up and has accepted the fate that hes going to die. I look at my alarm clock, the only bit of light fighting to illuminate the dark room, and think "i wish it wasnt time" 10:44 one minute away from the loud annoying surrogate mother waking me up to get ready for school when i refuse to get out of bed. But this wasnt school i was getting ready for this time, this was work, and work was depressing. I beat the clock and turned it off as if i was in competition to see who could race quicker, and pull back the covers. Another long night.
Feels like stepping through an Acme hole.
I’ve been deep in this detective work since like, yesterday, yet I’ve got nothing, I’ve searched every link, barcode and url, but the answers still elude me, guess I just gotta keep waiting and looking
Perry Mason vibes
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
beautiful, exactly what I was looking for ! thanks
You are welcome!
The life of a gumshoe is one of stakeouts, manhunts, and back alley fights. But tonight, it's a life of quiet strategy and slow paperwork. As I assess the facts of my case and discern what the next move is.
I should be asleep, gathering evidence is actually pretty hard at night. I need my sleep for the morning. But as you pursue creatures of the night, so you become them.
"It was like any other sunday night..."
Best music to go bounty hunting in star citizen :D
Excellent.
Thanks for listening
This is my kind of music I can swing it ☕️🎷🎺📻🖊️📝
"Beat it toots..."
I really like your video. Please keep posting more videos like this one! 2023-01-28 11:51
Will try, but CZcams does not want to monetize this channel, which makes spending time on videos difficult.
The rain was plentiful that night. Couples were walking each other out of restaurants and what have you, holding each other close in the warm sweet-song kind of way. Me? I’m as lonesome as they get. You think a hard-edged fella like me can find a Dame who’d walk up my side of the street? Not a chance, pal. For awhile, I was hopeful. I thought there’d always be the one day, far from now, where I’d find her. That…..that naïve optimism died a long, long time ago. It died from the gun I shot to wound the fleeing serial rapist of my first case, and run over by the mobsters that placed a unsuccessful hit on my head a few years later. This city showed me what our human condition is capable of committing when given the means, and I’m just the lowly detective sweeping up the aftermath…. There’s no life for me. No love. No happiness as though country bumpkins would put it. There’s only gray. Gray and the painfully simplistic….certainty….of the gun attached to the hand of mortality.
😶🌫️
I actually really like this one, fuckin kudos, and cheers 🍻
Very very nice ambience and music
Hugh had a long day. As he sat back in his chair - that same damn creaky chair - he sighed deeply. Looking around the hotel room he had rented for the night, he pulled a box of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. He put one of the cigarettes in his mouth and reached back into his pocket, fingering around for his lighter.
"Looking for somethin', hun?"
Hugh leaned back further in the chair until his head was upside down. He looked at the figure in his hotel room doorway. He smiled, and took the lighter from her gentle, soft hands.
"Y'know, Dianne... One of these days, I'm gon' miss you."
"The past is a gaping hole. You try to run from it, but the more you run, the deeper, more terrible it grows behind you, its edges yawning at your heels.
Your only chance is to turn around and face it. But it's like looking down into the grave of your love, or kissing the mouth of a gun, a bullet trembling in its dark nest, ready to blow your head off."
I had 2 slugs in me. One was Bourbon, the other a .45. Its the nights that are the worst.
The city had been cooking like an egg on a griddle and my last case was just as hot. Now the morning hours seemed to be filled with the tears of the angels as I stare at a blank sheet of paper in my battered typewriter trying to compose a story of evil, greed, and death to a couple of grieving parents that had hired me to find their missing daughter. I take a deep drag on my cigarette and try to find the words that will give them some comfort when there isn't any to give. I can't even tell them I avenged her.
when a person tells you who they are, believe them. The only person who you can fix is yourself
38:56 "You're listening to Black Jack Justice, only on Decoder Ring Theatre."
I haven't seen a case like this in 20 years. This was a crime not of passion but of anger. The person made sure he wasn't going to talk. His tongue was cut off, throat widely slit, eyeballs carefully removed, and an axe to his head and chest. Blood splatters all over the unsettling yellow walls, and the antique furnitures broken. The buzzing of the lights and the static of the radio was the only thing that kept me from going insane.
He came in from the pouring rain, shaking like a scared dog. I offered him a seat and as soon as he sat, he broke down in tears. I poured him a stiff drink and told to tell me what's wrong.
He said he thinks his wife is cheating on him and that his kids may not be his. He needed to know once and for all if it was true or not, and that's why he was here today.
He showed me a picture of her and as soon as I saw it I knew this was going to be a tough case.
He showed me a picture of my girlfriend and our kid.
I sat there, a man once confident shattered into a million pieces and kept a stoic face. Showing emotion was never my strong suit and I've been through millions of tribulations but yet this was the toughest battle of holding back tears. I stood my ground, my mind saying "ill get you next time," like the wicked witch of Oz when she was after dorthy.
Yea someone's going to be dead by the end of this one lol
I’ve been tracking the same maniac for over a year now. I’ve been close so many times, but every time he manages to slip away. The murders have only gotten more sporadic. It felt like trying to shoot a wasp with an arrow in the middle of a hurricane. What’s important to know is everyone gets caught. He’ll make a mistake soon, I can feel it. Lets just hope he doesn’t kill anymore people until then.
Stepping out of my office, I walk down the stairs to the street outside. I light a cigar and start making my way over to the pub a few blocks down. New York is peaceful at night, if you can manage to forget about all the criminal running around. Dark clouds ominously gather overhead and bright flashes of white streak through the air. Then, a great rumble that sounded like pots falling down a flight of stairs echoed between the buildings. If you were to ask me, I’d say the earth itself shook. I should get inside as soon as I can.
I reached Henry’s Pub just as it started to downpour. The man behind the bar looks up as he was cleaning a glass.
“Your regular, Mr. Hanson?”
“Yes, please.”
The man grabbed two shot glasses and filled them to the top with vodka, then made a whiskey old fashioned and put the three drinks in front of me.
“Thank you. Ah just one second.”
The man looks puzzled and slightly terrified.
“How do you know my name?”
Not even the radio dared to play any music. The pub went completely silent.
“You know, some maniacs like to put themselves right in the center of attention. That way, they can see if the detectives have anything. Everyone talks if they’re drunk enough, right?”
The man took a step back.
“It’s crazy how you look just like the man i’m looking for.”
The jukebox kicks back on, and I turn to see a man with a tommy gun walk out from around the corner. The man behind the bar smiles.
“Come on Mr. Hansen. You didn’t think it would really be that easy did you? How stupid do you think I am? Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna give me your gun, and then forget everything happened. I don’t wanna kill you just yet. I like our little chases.”
“You’re a freak, Jonny Fitzroy.”
“Oooh so harsh Mr. Hansen. Now put your gun on the counter, or my buddy will have to fill you with more holes than you can count.”
Reluctantly, I pull out my pistol and set it down on the counter.
“Good. Now turn around and forget.”
I turn and face the man with the tommy gun. Only then did I notice it was unloaded. Before I could turn around again, I was shot in the back of the leg. I fall to the ground in pain.
“You fuckin’ moron. You might be the worst detective i’ve seen.”
He hops over the counter and kneels over me.
“Lets help you forget huh?”
He smacks me with the pistol, and everything goes dark.
Please continue this! It's so great!
Man wth this is so cool!! :00
Ross: hi shuichi saihara. I'm so glad to see you and thank you for coming to national trail mix day. Can I get you something to drink and eat?💙
Shuichi saihara: yes. I will like to order the mint chocolate chip frappuccino and a dark chocolate bar please?🕵️♂️
nice.
Thanks
Been lookin for a list like this years for years. Thank you! 😊🚬
Happy to help!
very nice
In life you don’t get the luxury of knowing when a chapter ends. I woke up to the same grey morning, to the sounds of an angry city that would get even angrier by noon. I woke up, while Hilda still slept, and the sound of her breathing was the cold splash of water that brought sober wisdom.
She breathed like a happy person while she slept. I’d never noticed it before. It was such a small thing, but it was enough to finally convince me that I was no good for her. Or, at least I was no good for her so long as I came packaged with the choices I continued to make.
I packed my things and left that morning. She never heard me go. It’s been years, and she’s never once tried to contact me. That’s how it should be. I often think of her, fool that I am. I think of what she might have done that morning upon finding me gone. I like to imagine she smiled. I like to imagine she breathed easy.
Lovely
What couldn't I do without love?
I ask myself over and over while staring at the almost flawless living woman ive ever come upon, she's something of a sweet dream, a distant lullaby your mother would sing to put your watery eye'd self to sleep. She's everything i wanted yet couldn't achieve.. a glistening gem in the dark. Everyone around me seems dull and flat compared to her. Maybe i can't even see them anymore, but i don't mind. I watch you, see where you go, how you stand, what you like.. i dont have to be near you, just the sight of you is enough to blow me away, to pull my gaze towards you and quickly release when you glance back at me. Although my love for you is merely reality and only a long marinated thought inside my head that just won't leave.. I can't stop myself from leaking it out, only you can make it stop, make the love i so don't need come to an end.
Her name was Ariel Roses. What a name. We used to work at the Eastern Point; finest club in rhe city. Coy glances and longing stares eventually turned into a young love. Then the war started and I was drafted. Couldn’t bear saying goodbye. I left a boy and came back a man. But when I got back she had moved on with some schmo named Vince from the college uptown. Left me with a dusty empty home and a broken heart.
i like this chanel is my favorite chanel for jazz thank for this music
Thank you! This channel is not monetized and to allow me to continue making videos I kindly ask to please consider doing one of two things:
1. Support this channel on Patreon: www.patreon.com/ambientsoundcsapes
or
2. Subscribe to and support our new movie channel: czcams.com/channels/C1oiHcL03u5XvBXtxCHwyg.html
By supporting our other channel, you can help us to continue making videos for Ambient Soundscapes as well.
Thanks!
Thanks.
I absolutely love it.
Also beautiful music i love this