There's a time for silence, and there's a time we really should talk...

Teu silêncio é uma nau com todos os mastros quebrados.
O teu sorriso flutua entre os homens de vigia,
exemplo paradigmático de eficaz ortodontia.
Teu semblante eletrostático é uma escada para as nuvens,
irritante enciclopédia de problemas insolúveis.
Eu até senti paixão ao ler o enunciado:
"Dado um muro, determine o que está do outro lado."
Fiz as contas, pressupondo seres tu excelente pessoa.
Mas o muro inexpressivo aborrece, e até magoa.
E quanto mais eu persisto, esforçando a mente cansada,
mais me invade uma suspeita de a resposta, ao fim, ser nada.
E nada é o que diz o mar ao homem que nele se afoga,
enquanto lhe nega o dom de um colete ou uma piroga. 
Bem-aventurado o homem a quem mulher sem mistérios
exibe o que tem na alma, com beijos ou vitupérios.

Your silence is a ship with all its masts broken.
Your smile floats among the men on watch,
a paradigmatic example of effective orthodontics.
Your electrostatic countenance is a ladder to the clouds,
an irritating encyclopedia of insoluble problems.
I even felt passion when I read the problem statement:
"Given a wall, determine what's on the other side."
I did the math, assuming you were an excellent person.
But the inexpressive wall annoys, even hurts.
And the more I persist, straining my weary mind,
the more I am seized by a suspicion that the answer, in the end, will be nothing.
And nothing* is what the sea says to the man drowning in it,
while denying him the gift of a lifejacket or a canoe.
Blessed is the man to whom a woman without mysteries
displays what she has in her soul, with kisses or insults.

* In Portuguese "nada" means both "nothing" and "swim"

Teu Silêncio

Music by Dave Rose
An aborted song turned into a little instrumental. It used to be called Used To Be but, I did a much slower version which I preferred. I put this out a few days ago with a vocal but deleted it and replaced it with this version.
I kept running out of breath when I was singing it as I just couldn't get the lyrics to flow properly :>)

Easy Does It

Heartbreaker

This song is more than music—it’s a stand. In a world where AI tries to mimic human creativity, I wanted to remind everyone that nothing compares to the raw power of a human heart, voice, and soul. Every lyric, every beat, and every emotion in this track comes from a place no machine can reach. It’s about protecting the art of being human—our struggles, our triumphs, our imperfections that make music real. When you listen, I want you to feel the difference: this is not generated, this is lived.

Thanks to AP Mastering for giving me his consent to use his voice on this one









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AP Mastering

Philosophisches Duett über die zeitlose Weisheit, dass wahres 
Glück nicht im Ankommen, sondern im bewussten Gehen liegt. 
Chamber Folk mit Cello/Violin-Arrangements, progressive Taktarten 
(7/8, 5/4) und zwei Stimmen, die Generationen verbinden. 
Für Fans von Sufjan Stevens, Fleet Foxes und moderner Kammermusik.

Lyrik: (The English translation is below the German lyrics)
Im Morgengrauen der Seele erwacht
Ein rastlos Herz, das nach dem Horizont sich sehnt
Die Ungeduld der Zeit hat uns gemacht
Zu Jägern, die dem nächsten Glück entgegen gehen

Immer rennen, niemals ankommen hier
Zwischen Atemzügen hält die Zeit still
Ein Zauber webt sich leise, sanft wie Schnee
Zeigt den Weg, den ich schon immer gehen will

Die Wahrheit liegt so nah
War immer schon da
In uns

Es gibt keinen Weg zum Glück
Glück ist der Weg, den wir gehen
In jedem kleinen Augenblick
Kann ich die ganze Welt schon sehen
Nicht am Ende wartet das Gefühl
Nein, es tanzt in jedem Schritt
Das Leben ist kein fernes Ziel
Es singt in unserem Rhythmus mit

Zwischen Anfang und Ende
Zwischen Traum und dem Erwachen
Leben wir

Der Duft von Regen auf dem warmen Asphalt
Ein Lachen das von tief im Herzen kommt
Die Wärme einer Umarmung ungezählt
Das ist das Glück, das in uns wohnt

Nicht wischen nach dem Glück, wisch als das Glück
Die junge Seele spürt es schon so lang
Zwischen Hetze und dem Stillstand liegt der Trick
Im bewussten Gehen liegt der Klang

Es gibt keinen Weg zum Glück
Glück ist der Weg, den wir gehen
In jedem kleinen Augenblick
Kann ich die ganze Welt schon sehen
Die Revolution ist nicht das Ankommen
Sie lebt im bewussten Sein
In jedem Jetzt ist alles gewonnen
Der Weg selbst lädt uns ein

Der Weg selbst ist das Geschenk

English translation:
At dawn, the soul awakens
A restless heart that longs for the horizon
The impatience of time has made us
Hunters who pursue the next bit of happiness

Always running, never arriving here
Between breaths, time stands still
A spell weaves itself quietly, gently like snow
Showing me the path I've always wanted to take

The truth is so close
It was always there
Within us

There is no path to happiness
Happiness is the path we walk
In every little moment
I can already see the whole world
The feeling doesn't wait at the end
No, it dances with every step
Life is not a distant goal
It sings along with our rhythm

Between beginning and end
Between dream and awakening
We live

The scent of rain on warm asphalt
A laugh that comes from deep within the heart
The warmth of countless hugs
That is the happiness that dwells within us

Don't wipe away happiness, wipe away as happiness
The young soul has felt it for so long
Between rushing and standing still lies the trick
In conscious walking lies the sound

There is no path to happiness
Happiness is the path we walk
In every little moment
I can already see the whole world
The revolution is not the arrival
It lives in conscious being
In every now, everything is won
The path itself invites us

The path itself is the gift

Der Weg ist das Glück

Old song remixed today 

I hear a riff in the clouds so high 
Strings bending like angels sigh 
A melody that won't let me cry 
Are there guitars in heaven 
Do they shine Do they glow 
Do they play the songs we know 
Are there guitars in heaven 
Strings of gold Frets of light 
Echoing through the endless night 
I see a chord painted on the sky 
Six lines drawn where dreams won't die 
A pic in the wind It whispers why 
Can you hear the sound 
Breaking through the ground 
Are there guitars in heaven 
Do they shine Do they glow 
Do they play the songs we know 
Are there guitars in heaven 
Strings of gold Frets of light 
Echoing through the endless night 
Play me a solo Soft and slow 
Let it burn Let it show 
If there's a stage where spirits go

Are there guitars in heaven .mp3

we played our 90's 
alternative rock 
grunge set

in a tiny 
house with livestock
all around i can't forget 


the world was ours
and the cows 
could tell that everybody 
packed into that little party house was trippin'  L S D 

and we rocked the house 
the little house 
where the clock stopped tickin' while we floated out

out of body
out of mind
out of order 
space  and time

we rocked the house 
the little house 
where the clock stopped tickin' while we floated out

out of body
out of mind
out of order 
space  and time

we played like royalty
like kids from the block 
unleashed it

in a tiny
house with livestock
and the sound was like a jet
leaving the ground
and even now 
it still echoes inside me

packed into that little party house and trippin'  L S D 

and we rocked the house 
the little house 
where the clock stopped tickin' while we floated out

we played our 90's 
alternative rock 
grunge set

in a tiny 
house with livestock
all around i can't forget 

the world was ours
and the cows 
could tell that everybody 

packed into that little party house was trippin'  L S D 

out of body
out of mind
out of order 
space  and time

we rocked the house 

we rocked the house 

rockin'  to our riffs and grungy party sound of trippin'  L S D 
it was lucid 
it was lucid it was you and me

it was lucid 
it was lucid it was you and me

lucid

Drifting off to another place and time with my Accordion, Lap Steel, and Bass.

Far Far Away

Post Metal Straitjacket

(FR)LIA joue avec sa voix.
Chaque note semble deviner le monde,
chaque intonation, une étincelle de joie…une respiration ?

La série ExperImentAl explore la glossolalie générée par IA — cette forme de chant où la voix cesse d’être langage pour devenir pure émotion.
▸ La voix semble humaine… mais ne l’est pas tout à fait.
▸ Le langage paraît familier… mais ne veut rien dire.
▸ Et pourtant, l’émotion est bien là — palpable, non par le sens, mais par le chant.
(EN)LIA plays with her voice.
Each note seems to sense the world,
each inflection sparks a flicker of joy…A breath ?

The ExperImentAl series explores AI-generated glossolalia — a form of singing where the voice stops being language and becomes pure emotion.
▸ The voice sounds human… but isn’t quite.
▸ The words feel familiar… but mean nothing.
▸ Yet the emotion is here — not through meaning, but through melody.

Unsupervised Learning

🇫🇷 Biographie poétique (FR)
ATERION trace ses lignes dans l’ombre et la lumière — entre souffle analogique, éclats numériques et silence signifiant.
Explorateur sonore aux racines multiples, il compose des fragments d’univers :
des fusions techniques aux allures de jazz-rock cosmique,
des pièces expérimentales portées par une voix non lexicale,
où surgissent des éclats de phonosémie — signifiants sans discours, mais jamais sans intensité. Des musiques-poèmes, aussi, où l’épure devient langage. Ici, la machine ne copie pas : elle révèle. Chaque morceau est un territoire, chaque titre une énigme ouverte.
ATERION ne cherche pas la norme, mais l’écho intérieur.
Écouter, c’est traverser. Composer, c’est traduire l’inconnu.
« J’ai vu un ange dans le marbre et j’ai seulement ciselé jusqu’à l’en libérer. »
— Michel-Ange

🇬🇧 Poetic Biography (EN)
ATERION draws in shadow and light — analog breath, digital sparks, and meaningful silence.
A sonic explorer with deep roots, he crafts fragments of worlds:
technical fusions shaped like cosmic jazz-rock,
experimental pieces guided by a non-lexical voice,
where bursts of phonosémie emerge — signifiers without words, yet never without intensity.

He also composes poetic soundscapes, where minimalism becomes speech.
Here, machines do not mimic — they reveal.
Each track is a territory, each title an open riddle. ATERION seeks not norm, but resonance.
To listen is to journey. To compose is to translate the unknown.

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”
— Michelangelo