A collection of songs that were never meant to be written.

After months of creating, restoring, and revisiting old material, Barbonus took a short break — not to find creativity, but to escape it.
Ten quiet days in the Tuscan hills, a borrowed car, and the thought of doing nothing.
But silence has its own gravity.

From that failed pause emerged four songs about distance, relapse, and the fire that hides inside stillness.
Each track circles the point where absence becomes presence, and reflection turns into sound.

Minimal electronic textures, quiet voices, and slow-burning dynamics shape a landscape between calm and unrest.
Fire and Distance is not a return — it’s a continuation that was already waiting.

Fire and Distance

Originally a quiet poem about perspective and distance, written long before it had music.
“Looking Down” moves through cold electronic textures and slow, suspended breath — a moment of clarity after fire and unrest.
A song about seeing yourself from far away, and finally understanding the shape of the past.

Looking Down (Demo)

Barbonus wrote this song about the one he never wrote.
It started as silence — a pause from creating — and turned into a melody that refused to disappear.
Recorded as a demo, “The Song I Never Wrote” isn’t about inspiration, but about the inability to escape it.

The Song I Never Wrote (Demo)

A quiet relapse in slow motion.
“Creeping Back Again” follows the return of an old ache — the one that pretends to be gone until it whispers again.

Minimal electronic textures, soft percussion, and a fragile vocal line circle around absence and memory.
Written in the same Tuscan silence that inspired The Song I Never Wrote, this track marks the moment when calm starts to crack.

Nothing dramatic, nothing loud — just the sound of something you thought had healed.

Creeping Back Again (Demo)

Written first as a poem about burning pain away, long before it had music.
The track starts in quiet electronic shadows and ends in a raw, rising flame.
A song about trying to outburn memory — and finding out it burns back.

Burning Matches (Demo)

Originally a poem from the early Barbonus years — a surreal image written long before it ever had music.
A quiet heat rising under the skin, a mind trying to break its own silence.
Minimal electronics, slow tension, and a voice pushing against a feeling that once existed only on paper.

On the Burning Stove (Demo)

A forgotten beer coaster from 1996.
A few scattered lines written after a long night in a rehearsal basement.
Decades later, the words return — quieter, clearer, finally honest.

What I Meant to Say is the conversation Barbonus never had,
rewritten from the distance of time,
where the boy he was and the man he became finally meet.

What I Meant to Say (Demo)

Barbonus is a German lyricist who treats songwriting as a form of literature. His tracks begin with words – fragments of prose, quiet observations, poetic disruptions – and build outward into minimalist soundscapes.

Instead of writing hits, Barbonus writes moments. His lyrics don’t chase hooks; they linger, reveal, suggest. Framed by gentle synths and indie-flavored textures, his work explores memory, digital disconnection, and the beauty of unfinished thoughts.

Beyond his solo work, Barbonus moves between several constellations:
• with Vela Sorell he forms the duo BC25, exploring fragile songs of memory and breath.
• with Klarstein.rocks he releases playful Country-inspired tracks and writes German lyrics in the ironic spirit of the NDW.
• in his archive work, he reconstructs cassette recordings from the 1990s, recovering fragments from a rehearsal basement.

With growing attention from international blogs describing his sound as “electronica with heart” and “a softer, more introspective space,” Barbonus positions himself less as a performer and more as a narrator. A voice at the edge of the frame, crafting scenes in words before sound enters the room.

For him, music is not the message – it’s the carrier wave.