Lynch it up/down

SYCAMORE TREES (Jimmy Scott / Angelo Badalamenti cover)

Vintage vibed mix of 7 string guitar, double bass and drums. 
Available also on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/0DMhCYDWPtH6wxXvnH0LKP?si=706c7cb7d9d148e8

Moon keeper

A bit chilly and a bit jazzy combination of vintage tones with modern 7 string guitar.
Available also on Spotify:
https://open.spotify.com/album/4i2n3jUgWKCV4HOF3YVvco?si=GKB7Xt57QMKmqzP4flPO-g

The hut

Introduction in English:

Most recently, after a long time, I was at the "Black Cafe" on Berlin's Kurfürstendamm. And as I sat there, I remembered a scene from my life that was the starting point for the song "Treason:
About 25 years ago I'm sitting one Saturday morning at three o'clock in the Black Cafe. Although I hardly ever drink alcohol, I'm drinking my third glass of vodka to wash down the increasingly painful shock of a triple betrayal: 
My wife betrayed our fidelity alliance because she cheated on me. My best friend betrayed our friendly loyalty because my wife cheated with him. And finally, I betrayed myself by taking poor care of myself and blindly trusting them.
The associated feeling of "nothing is the same as it was before" and "everything that seemed so right now appears wrong, upside down, or in shambles..." I have tried to express with this song.

Treason

Red light turns blue
Discreetly, data is stolen
The upright mountain 
Is in truth a tiny garden gnome

The handshake firm yet shallow
A promise that gives way to crime
A gold bar suspiciously light
Wryly calibrated

The walking stick breaks
A black spider - wanders into the light

Treason
Treason
Tre-e-e-ason

The asphalt is only slightly corrugated
The minister of truth is ordered

A work of art seduces 
Adorned with the signs of lies
A garden squints colourfully
And yet has false teeth in its mouth

A blossoming rose already withered
The topping-out feast with rotten beams
A trumpeter who blows on a comb
Freshly bared

The embraced strangled
The most familiar dies

Treason
Treason
Tre-e-e-ason

The asphalt is only slightly corrugated
The minister of truth orders

Treason

Available also on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/0XOrQByl8cNK5pWGSY21xt?si=4d1e6bd4e5024a55

Nu myth

This song was writen by members of our band. We hope, that you will like it! 
thanks to Bleis Studio records.

There Is Still Hope

Introduction in English:

Last year, my wife and me bought a cottage on the Baltic Sea. It was to be something like our retirement home for the next thirty years. 
Unfortunately, this vision has so far been thwarted by our increasingly resentful neighbours. Consideration is a foreign word for them. They let their children play loud basketball as long as they want; they grill foul-smelling meat as long as they want and they party as long as they want. 
If you ask them nicely to be quiet, you will be dismissed with slogans like "We don't give a shit", "Move away if you don't like it" or "We'll do what we like".
In my helplessness and speechlessness over this dissocial stubbornness, I came across an old Beatles song called "Not a Second Time". Of course, it was composed by John Lennon in 1963 in a completely different context.
But its lyrics fit just as well with my desperate and so far largely unheard plea for more neighbourly consideration. - In particular, the lines: "You're giving me the same old line/ I'm wondering why/You hurt me then/ you're back again/No, no, no, not a second time“ sum up our current plight with these self-centred neighbours.
And as always with covers, my aim is not to get as close as possible to the original, but to transform it into a Karlit-O-Kay sound design.
The picture cover for the song is by German artist Markus Schuke.

Einleitung auf Deutsch:

Letztes Jahr kauften meine Frau und ich an der Ostsee ein Häuschen. Es sollte so etwas wie unser Alters- und Ruhesitz für die nächsten dreißig Jahre werden. 
Leider wurde diese Vision bisher von unseren zunehmend renitenten Nachbarn durchkreuzt. Rücksichtnahme ist für sie ein Fremdwort. Sie lassen ihre Kinder lautstark Basketball spielen, solange die wollen; sie grillen übelriechendes Fleisch, so lange sie wollen und sie machen Party, so lange sie wollen. 
Bittet man sie freundlich um Ruhe, wird man mit Sprüchen wie "Ist uns doch scheißegal", "Ziehen Sie doch weg, wenn es Ihnen nicht paßt" oder "Wir machen, was uns passt" abgefertigt.
In meiner Ohnmacht und Sprachlosigkeit ob dieser dissozialen Dickfelligkeit stieß ich auf einen alten Song der Beatles namens "Not a Second time". Der ist natürlich damals 1963 von John Lennon in einem ganz anderen Zusammenhang komponiert worden.
Seine Textzeilen passen aber ebenso gut zu meinem verzweifelten und bisher weitgehend unerhört gebliebenen Bitten um mehr nachbarschaftliche Rücksichtnahme. – Insbesondere die Zeilen „You're giving me the same old line/ I'm wondering why/You hurt me then/ you're back again/No, no, no, not a second time“ bringen unsere derzeitige Not mit diesen egozentrischen Nachbarn auf den Punkt, 
Und wie stets bei Covern geht es mir nicht darum, dem Original möglichst nahe zu kommen, sondern dieses in ein Karlit-O-Kay- Sounddesign zu transformieren.
Das Bild-Cover zu dem Song stammt von dem deutschen Künstler Markus Schuke.

Not a Second Time

Not A Second Time (Lennon/Mccartney)

Lyrics, music, keyboard and voice by Dmitriy Rumyancev
Arrangement, guitar, bass and mix by Alexander Kartishev
(Latvia, Riga, 2023)

TLM - Breath (new song, 2023)

Sycamore Trees

Second part of my father trilogy.
This song is based on a dream I had a good 20 years ago with my father, who had been dead for some time. 
I am in a dimly lit room. It's just me and somehow my father's energy body. At some point, this invisible energy body comes towards me. Then we embrace. It is a merging embrace. Something deep inside me releases and makes me cry. It's not so much a sad cry, but a liberating, soothing cry that pacifies me completely. 
Since this dream, the grudge I harboured against him for a long time has largely disappeared.     
Somehow he has been there inside me since then and I can sometimes visit him (even in dreams) when I want to talk to him.

The arrangement of the song is deliberately minimalist (just vocals, guitar and violin, hardly any effects) in order to emphasise the tremendous intimacy of the encounter between my father and me in the dream described above (there is no longer a "leaf" between us).

My Father  (Lyrics in English)

Would so like to talk to you
Break through the walls to the hereafter
Meet you in a moon cafe
On chairs that stand here and there

You died before the Berlin Wall came down
My son was born on the day you died
Never saw my beautiful wife
Although you had aimed 
For a hundred years of life

You only reached half of it
Life was rarely really easy for you

You were often too close to the stars
Underestimated the danger to your life
Had so many visions
Wanted to live in castles in the air

Then you were all there again
So clairvoyant, wise and clear

Would love to have you with me now
My father, I would love to have you here now 

The dividing wall to you is now open
I haven't met you for so long
You're waiting for me in the moon cafe
I see you in the soft twilight

I want to tell you so many things
What happened after you left
You still wanted to experience it all
Your early death did not grant you that

You were so torn, the demons, they tore at you
You loved the rush, had little sense of yourself

And yet you were in deep distress
My ever-protecting boat
My steadying hand
The lighthouse in my land of chaos

You gave up the shirt off your back
That ultimately cost you your life

Would love to have you with me now
My father, I wish you were here now


Mein Vater (Deutscher Originaltext)

Möchte so gern mit Dir sprechen
Die Mauern zum Jenseits durchbrechen
Dich in einem Mond-Cafe` treffen
Auf Stühlen, die hier und dort stehen

Vor dem (Berliner) Mauerfall bist Du gestorben
An Deinem Todestag wurde mein Sohn geboren
Hast meine schöne Frau niemals erlebt
Dabei hattest Du 
Hundert Jahre Leben angestrebt

Hast grad‘ mal gut die Hälfte davon erreicht
Das Leben war für Dich selten wirklich leicht

Warst oft den Sternen zu nah
Unterschätztest die Lebensgefahr
Hattest so viele Visionen
Wolltest in Luftschlössern wohnen

Dann warst Du wieder ganz da
So hellsichtig, weise und klar

Hätt‘ Dich so gern jetzt bei mir
Mein Vater, hätt‘ Dich jetzt gern hier 

Die Trennwand zu Dir steht jetzt offen
So lange hab‘ ich Dich nicht getroffen
Du wartest im Mond-Cafe‘ auf mich
Ich seh‘ Dich im zarten Dämmerlicht

Ich will Dir so vieles erzählen
Was so geschah nach Deinem Fortgehen
Du wolltest das alles noch erleben
Dein früher Tod hat Dir das nicht vergönnt

Warst so zerrissen, die Dämonen, sie zerrten an Dir
Liebtest den Rausch, hattest für Dich wenig Feingespür

Und dennoch warst Du in tiefer Not
Mein stets mich schützendes Boot
Meine mir haltgebende Hand
Der Leuchtturm in meinem Chaos-Land

Hast Dein letztes Hemd hergegeben
Das kostete Dich letztlich Dein Leben

Hätt‘ Dich so gern jetzt bei mir
Mein Vater, hätt‘ Dich jetzt gern hier

Mein Vater (My Father)

A song is writen by Fever Heat rock band. Thanks to Bleis Studio, we've made our prof. record. This song is called "Alone". Please Like and Share, if you like it, we will be happy to see your pint of view, read your comment here or on the facebook at our personal page. You can find us there as Feverheat. Thank you.

Alone

Dmitriy Rumyancev - music, lyrics, voice, keyboards
Alexander Kartishev - guitars and arrangement

Editing and mix by Alexander Kartishev
Cover design by Dmitriy Rumyancev
Record in Garry Wadoo studio and KirchHolm Studio
(Latvia, Riga, 2024)

Garry Wadoo - Freedom

Garry Wadoo - Sycamore Trees (Twin Peaks cover) HOME DEMO

Sycamore Trees (Jimmy Scott)

re : mixed...

re : arranged...

re : imagined... 


Original version appears on the Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me soundtrack.
David Lynch (lyrics), Angelo Badalamenti (original music) & Jimmy Scott (vocals)

Garry Wadoo - Sycamore Trees (Twin Peaks cover) HOME DEMO

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