Thanks to Chloe for vocal harmonies

Who are these, their lips curled back
Their intense eyes are down where their intent lies
And the great trees are unmoved as they look up to the sky
Who are these with a vital mercy mission
Their incandescent sparks flashing  rages in the dark
The Sun cares nothing for them, nothing for them.

What single beat knows it's resonance?
What precious heart can stand to be apart?
-      It’s in the endless now
And a breath is just a breath and is all until it’s spent
-      Ever falling down
Delicate blooms reach up, captive by their roots
-      If there’s no way out
Their self fulfilling purpose an insubstantial circus 
-      Then let them slay me now
They are entwined, but they are blind

A View from the Great Trees

dripping

Dripping

....I hope he will forgive the presumption...
____________________________________________________________________

This little project only stirred into life when graced with the pulse of Debbie's wonderful accompaniment and the breath of David's visionary arrangement and production.  Thank you both, dear friends.

Find Debbie's piano music here: https://soundcloud.com/debra_buesking
and David's guitar music here: https://soundcloud.com/david-dunhamuser589535203
_____________________________________________________________________

.... Inspired By Mr. Pärt's Spiegels

Dear God, just look at the state of you - what the hell happened?
Did time do that all by itself?
Chiselled and scraped with gentle, temporal strength?
Yesterdays now patterned well with telling tales of wear and tear.
Always took such good care that you ticked every health kick box
But all the ticks collect their tocks, bundling up the time we thought was dangling spare.

And wrinkly skin comes out to play, crafting plots with crumpled neurons badly frayed, and
Liver spots about the edges worn of happy recollections,
Waltzed away, invisible to the swinging of that penduled clock.
Take your eyes off it for just a minute and you’ve lost a day, 
And then a decade’s worth of wry reflections,
Lovingly to fold them up and let them lie in memory’s pocket.

Those lines that contour of your brow, a biography of creases now
And all cut down so very deep.
Each epidermal void crevasse life’s stylus tracks a scratching past
Evinces of a record no mortal hard re-format could delete.
And of your eyes, sallow yellowed at the margins, framed by corvid feet
Rigid-set to well outlast whatever bargained span of life your good Lord deems replete.

As if your face lampoons of age itself, wrecked and bent
Of scars that trace minutiae, carved in master sculptors’ stone
And none too soon, for just that task and that alone, recording compressed of the past..
We both know well which ones are smiles and which the pain that heaven sent,
The former few, soft of the flesh, the many others sunk unto the very bone,
The harshest welt of any sole upon the universal cobbler’s last.

But does it help to so reflect, or but to hurry time’s neglect?
Of such consideration circles wrapped in worry tearing down
All edifice of self respect, the towering pit of pity comes once more to town,
Parades a circus fine of talents, self deprecating jestered clowns
And galloping horses all the while stampede about the rounded ropes
Vespered peace forever sought, just out of reach, concedes of futile, now confounded hopes.

So what of forward self projection, folding the creases back behind
And out of sight to speculation on future solaced peace of mind?
Perhaps again the crashing wall of fast reality, solid bricked
Determines upward focus but to fall, as if to gravity’s grounded truth 
Tricked of consequential solitude, rimed of age, aching of the aged sick
No respite there nor rectitude as once you found in torrid youth.

But perhaps I’m speaking out of turn and out of place,
For though your memories sear and burn as if to carbonise some worthwhile trace of validity
On that unholy visage lit by lives lived long before….
It matters not and changes nought, not a jot nor yet a thought
For you and I know better than to seek a settled score from comment fair
After all, you are I, staring back at me from the mirror mounted there.

.... Inspired By Mr. Pärt's Spiegels ... With Debra Buesking and David Dunham

135 INDIE MONTRÉAL ROCK.

12/17/2024

What I Want To Tell You

Off our soon-to-be-released album, this song is one of our "glitch style" pieces - all extra short, they avoid traditional structures and include playful instrumentation. This one includes Gina's surprise "sampled" vocals. 

Water can get in
Wherever air may go
Wherever air may go
Water can get in
Water can get in
I won't let you make me be the mad one
No no no
I won't let you make me think they're the bad ones
I won't let you make me be the mad one
I won't let you make me think they're the bad ones 
Wherever air may go

water can get in

Music: Joachim Krömker
Guitars & Synth: Joachim Krömker
Vocals: xian3
Editorial work on Lyrics: xian3
Words by Theodor W. Adorno (1903-1969) in „Philosophy of new music“, 1949
Translation mainly by machine
Cover: AI generated on Dec.31st 2024 at 10:30

Behind The Dam

“The person 
who allows oneself 
to be exuded (poured out)
in weeping 
and a music 
which is no longer like it 
in anything, (in anything)

at the same time 
allows the stream 
of what is not itself 
to flow back 
into it, 
what is not itself 

and what was dammed up 

behind the dam 
of the world of things.”  	

Behind the dam
Behind the dam
Behind the dam

Behind the Dam (feat. xian3)

New Kraut In Space

#-FARESCAPE-Album Part one- #Electronic #House ☆ Produced on the  A.M.W.S.c.c. Analog Modular Wave Station computer controlled. BandLab recording and mix. January 2025.

-The Infinity of Stardust- FARESCAPE part1

DU SKA VA PRESIDENT - IMPERIET
Cover by Stina Crow and ExploderaMera
--------------------
Du ska va president
Du ska va president
Du ska va president

Nånstans nere under jorden på botten av ett hål
I en gruva i Hell city värker muskler av stål
Där barndomssånger botar ånger läker sår
Där skyltfönsterögon lägger pussel-letar spår

Alla föddes lika nakna utan stygn på sin kropp
Tio-tusen ton stenar där städer växte opp
Megatropolis väggar andas smärta andas hopp
Under jorden, under jorden

Men du vet väl att

Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär

Under nattens svarta himmel är det fest i timmar tolv
Alla inkassobreven fyller år på ditt golv
Men vårat liv är kort, ett party i en papperskorg
Sjung en sång för barnen om ett liv utan sorg

Nånstans nere i bunkern dunkar hammarslagens sång
Om hur solen värmer kroppar efter vinter lång
Låt den eka i din hjärna du måste du e stjärna
Under jorden


Men du vet väl att

Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär

Men du vet väl att

Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Du ska va president du ska va miljonär
Under jorden
Under jorden
Hej hej å
Under jorden

Under jorden
Hej hej å
Under jorden
Men du vet väl att

DU SKA VA PRESIDENT (Cover by Nix & Stina)


Laughing at the Riverside is a nostalgic indie rock ballad that captures the emotional texture of a summer evening reunion among old friends. Set by the riverbank at dusk, the song explores themes of memory, time, and quiet connection. Through poetic verses and a melancholic male baritone voice, the lyrics reflect on shared stories, lost moments, and the bittersweet beauty of aging friendships. The chorus, anchored by the line “Laughing at the Riverside,” evokes a sense of timeless joy and emotional release. Instrumental sections—ranging from ambient intros to orchestral crescendos—mirror the emotional arc of the night, making the song feel cinematic and deeply personal.

---

🎵 Laughing at the Riverside
Lyrics by Martin Oliver Beinersdorf

[Intro – Twilight Pulse (0:00–0:45)  
Soft piano arpeggios in low register.  
Muted bass pulses gently.  
Ambient pads with tremolo shimmer.  
Delay-washed electric guitar textures.  
No drums yet, slow emotional build.  
Mood: dusky summer evening, anticipation, warmth.]

Verse 1  
We parked the cars by the willow bend  
Sun bleeding out like a quiet friend  
You brought the cheap wine, I brought the old jokes  
Someone lit a fire, someone almost choked  

The river moved like it knew our names  
Skipping stones, trading old mistakes  
You said, “Remember that night in June?”  
I said, “I barely remember you”  

Pre-Chorus  
But the laughter came easy, like it used to  
And the silence felt softer than truth  

Chorus  
Laughing at the Riverside  
Where the past comes back but never bites  
We were ghosts in denim and light  
Laughing at the Riverside  
Like nothing ever changed  
Like everything was right  

[Instrumental Bridge – Echoes in the Current (2:10–2:40)  
Drums enter with off-kilter rhythm (5/4).  
Muted trumpet and trombone add melancholic accents.  
Dissonant guitar chords slowly resolve.  
Synth sweeps mimic water movement.  
Mood: flickering memories, emotional tension.]

Verse 2  
You played that song from senior year  
It cracked like vinyl, but we all cheered  
The moon hung low like a borrowed time  
And someone cried without a sign  

We talked of jobs, of kids, of loss  
Of how we all got a little lost  
But no one judged, and no one lied  
We just let the river decide  

Chorus  
Laughing at the Riverside  
Where the past comes back but never bites  
We were ghosts in denim and light  
Laughing at the Riverside  
Like nothing ever changed  
Like everything was right  

[Instrumental Interlude – Denim Ghosts (3:30–4:10)  
Strings (violin, cello) play a nostalgic theme.  
Piano repeats intro motif, higher and fragile.  
Slide guitar adds emotional texture.  
No drums, ambient bass carries the mood.  
Mood: time suspended, quiet reflection.]

Bridge  
The fire burned down to a whisper  
And I wished I’d said more to her  
But maybe that’s the point of nights like these  
You feel too much, and speak too little  

[Build-Up – Firelight Crescendo (4:40–5:10)  
Drums return with driving rhythm.  
Brass and strings swell into crescendo.  
Open guitar chords with tremolo.  
Warm synth pad underneath.  
Mood: emotional climax, shared joy and sorrow.]

Final Chorus  
Laughing at the Riverside  
Where the echoes feel like lullabies  
We were young, we were terrified  
Laughing at the Riverside  
Like nothing ever changed  
Like everything was right  

[Outro – Riverside Fade (5:40–6:20)  
Sparse piano notes like water drops.  
Reverse guitar effects echo memories.  
Slow bass pulse like a heartbeat.  
Field recording: river sounds, distant laughter, crickets.  
Mood: closure, memory lingering, peace.]

---

© Lyrics and concept by Martin Oliver Beinersdorf. All rights reserved.

Laughing at the Riverside

We love that we can share our music, which we write, play and record, and we value any feedback we get. We also love to listen to the music you all make. There’s so much talent out there, it’s great that SoundCloud gives it a voice.

A View from the Great Trees

Aquacade