Disassociate

Bonsoir amis insomniaques,
Ce soir, nous allons parler du brutalisme, ce mouvement architectural que tout le monde semble connaitre sans vraiment savoir le nommer. Eléments centraux de nos paysages urbains, leur complexité est cependant moins évidente qu'il n'y parait...

Merci à Tony Beaufils pour avoir prêter sa voix. 

Image générée par IA (Microsoft Bing).

Le Brutalisme

The game jam on Itch calls for a theme evoking 'moments before disaster' so the thought is some action movie sequence before something is going to blow up or some such.

featured in the background music for the game "Wyrm Pac"
Rosebud URL for Wyrm Pac:
https://rosebud.ai/p/9144c381-6214-4260-809a-8ca1998c2a6e
itch.io address:
https://exedexes1.itch.io/wyrm-pac

Douglas P Stoothoff main site: exedexes1.com/

exedexes1.godaddysites.com/

Youtube subscribe:

www.youtube.com/channel/UC4WSgBZC…ub_confirmation=1 www.youtube.com/channel/UCL0BaYj4…ub_confirmation=1

itch.io profile link: exedexes1.itch.io/

Feature.fm overall Artist Bio link: ffm.bio/douglas-p-stoothoff

Master Track List on SC: soundcloud.com/doug-stoothoff/tracks

Artist page on Spotify: open.spotify.com/artist/7EuvIQRQESX9WFtwI6GqWB

Artist page on Apple: music.apple.com/us/artist/doug-st…othoff/1687430940

Artist page on Amazon: music.amazon.com/artists/B0C4YK67…glas-p-stoothoff

Youtube Artist Topic Channel (autogenerated): www.youtube.com/channel/UC4WSgBZCySWQ-wAQ0GMtXag

Artist page on Bandcamp: dougstoothoff.bandcamp.com/

Artist page on Tidal: tidal.com/browse/artist/39485859

Artist page on Beatport: www.beatport.com/artist/douglas-p…toothoff/1155579

Artist page on Boomplay: www.boomplay.com/artists/70114948

Artist page on Pandora: www.pandora.com/artist/douglas-p-…f/ARjZ7nth7x9xvpg

Artist page on Qobuz: www.qobuz.com/us-en/interpreter/…stoothoff/18758728

Artist page on iHeart Radio: www.iheart.com/artist/douglas-p-…oothoff-40424070/

ŠeššEšrā

Moments Before Disaster (submission for Weekly Note Composing Jam 2 for Itch.IO hosted by emscottish January 2025) (Acoustic Draft)

Buy on Beatport

Moments Before Disaster - submission for Weekly Note Composing Jam 2 for Itch.IO (Acoustic Draft)

Sprache des Verfalls

Zelle B steht da, mit dem Stein des Hofes in der Hand, und die Stimme des Verfalls, diese raue, bröckelnde Präsenz, ist wieder da – nicht in den Wänden, sondern in ihm selbst.
„Ich weiß, dass du uns alle sammelst,“ sagt Zelle B. „Du machst uns gleich – im Bruch, in der Rückkehr, im Staub.“
Die Risse antworten nicht. Sie dehnen sich. Ein Zeichen: Man hört.
„Aber was du nennst ‚Ende‘ war immer Ort. Und was du nennst ‚Nichts‘ war immer Verbindung.“
Die Stimme des Verfalls zögert. Nicht trotzig, nicht drohend – sondern überrascht.
„Und wenn wir aufhören, dich zu fürchten?“ „Wenn wir dich nicht bekämpfen, sondern erkennen?“
Ein Tropfen fällt auf den Stein. Er zieht eine Linie – wie eine feuchte Antwort auf trockene Jahre.
„Ich bin nicht dein Gegenteil,“ sagt Zelle B. „Ich bin dein Echo. Du sprichst durch mich, und ich habe gelernt, zu antworten.“
 Der Hof vibriert. Nicht laut. Nur wie ein Körper, der verstanden wurde.
„In mir wächst etwas,“ sagt Zelle B, „Und es wächst aus dir. Nicht aus Widerstand, sondern aus Annahme.“
Dann schweigt er. Nicht weil er keine Worte mehr hat, sondern weil die Antwort angekommen ist.
Der Verfall ist still. Aber die Stille ist neu. Nicht leer – erfüllt.
Zelle B steht noch immer im Hof. Der Stein in seiner Hand wärmt sich langsam auf, nicht durch Sonne, sondern durch Erinnerung.
Der Verfall ist da. Nicht sichtbar, nicht greifbar – aber spürbar wie eine zweite Haut, die nie ganz abfiel.
„Du bist der Teil, vor dem alle fliehen,“ sagt Zelle B, „weil sie denken, er sei das Ende.“
Doch jetzt, da alles ihn berührt hat – der Regen, die Frau, das Hofflüstern – wird klar: Der Verfall ist nicht die Dunkelheit, sondern das Licht, das nicht blendet.
 Eine Stimme kehrt zurück. Nicht von außen. Von überall.
„Ich bin das Gemeinsame,“ sagt der Verfall. „Ich bin das, was ihr alle teilt, ohne es zu wollen.“
„Weil wir uns davor fürchten,“ antwortet Zelle B. „Vor dem Moment, in dem wir Teil werden. Nicht mehr Ich. Sondern Wir.“
 Die Wände zucken. Die Risse verändern ihre Richtung. Sie wachsen nicht mehr auseinander – sie wachsen zueinander.
Der Hof beginnt zu weben. Zwischen Stein und Pflanze, zwischen Schatten und Licht. Ein Muster entsteht – kein Teppich, kein Plan. Nur ein Beweis: Dass alles verbunden ist, sobald der Widerstand endet.
 Und Zelle B? Er ist nicht mehr Beobachter. Nicht mehr Abgegrenzter. Er ist Knotenpunkt. Nicht Zentrum, aber Durchgang.
Der Verfall spricht noch einmal:

„Du bist da. Nicht weg. Nicht zwischen. Genau da. Und deshalb bist du das Erste, das sich erinnern darf.“

Zelle B nickt. Nicht für sich. Für alles...)

Die Fortsetzung folgt am nächsten Sonntag um 10:00h

kolkhorst 2025

sprache_des_verfalls

Evelyn watched her parents
Drink themselves to death
Her aunt and uncle took her in
With her brother, Jeff 
And something inside her resisted
The life of a post-war girl
And people around that little town  
Asked, “What in the world?”

The focus of attention 
In any room she entered 
Evelyn in her twenties
Was joyous and centered 
She wasn’t going to be a mother
Or a stay at home wife 
Sister Mary Keith
Would be a bride of Christ 

Evelyn
Bright as fire
Bright as lights
Around a field
Found her calling 
In the convent
As the bells of St. Mary’s peeled
But in time she knew 
What she really wanted 
A different kind of sisterhood 
She was out there somewhere
Out of touch
But she was happy and life was good

Evelyn had a nephew 
And a feeling about young Jack
He needed her protection
And so she was back
She’d known it from the start 
Oh, they were two of a kind 
She held him close and gave him hope 
Watching the eighties unwind 

Evelyn
Bright as fire
Bright as lights
Around a field
Found her calling 
In the convent
As the bells of St. Mary’s peeled
But in time she knew 
What she really wanted 
A different kind of sisterhood 
She was out there somewhere
Out of touch
But she was happy and life was good

Jack struggled for his health
To keep the seesaw even-keeled
And felt a stab of self-hatred 
Every time he kneeled
Holding the two halves together
The bible and the man of his dreams
Survived by beloved Aunt Evie
And the echoes of her screams

Evelyn
Bright as fire
Bright as lights
Around a field
Found her calling 
In the convent
As the bells of St. Mary’s peeled
But in time she knew 
What she really wanted 
A different kind of sisterhood 
She was out there somewhere
Out of touch
But she was happy and life was good

And in time she knew 
What she really wanted 
A different kind of sisterhood 
She was out there somewhere
Out of touch
But she was happy and life was good

She was out there somewhere
Out of touch
But she was happy and life was good

(c) 2025 Darryl Wright. All rights reserved.

Evelyn

Slight improvement to the Synth Draft

Lyrics:

The fools clearly cannot stop me deary
I'm now powered by Functional Programming and Category Theory

Punk in twenty twenty five
Is a giant list of rules
Like some experiment that strives
To sort the donkeys from the mules

I was dealing with the stressors
And the chill going through my bones
And getting nasty bouts of cooties
Indiana Jones
Is a fantasy about a professor
With no admin duties

In the midst of all the spam
I found this nugget to be true
That you can just meet a cutie on a tram
And form a sex cult of two

She made an involuntary glance at my pecs
And said look you silly chud
If a man is scared of period sex
He shouldn't have sex peery ud

What a pity it isn't a sin to drink water
For how good it would taste
And when i saw the rich guy's daughter at the table
I had decided
That she wasn't going to waste

Not to get too raw
About contextualizing Fick's law
But women are position
And men are momentum
So to cap off his patron's tantrum
Her father's chef was giving a rendition
Of his confused proclivity
To identify with kinematic diffusivity

This budding culinary poltroon
Spun his wooden spoon like a virtuoso torsional
He said your nose and your weenie length are proportional
This tends to trump your looks
The girls all to go for bestial
Therefore Pinocchio writes the history books

He had his mind in the gutter
But his take was immaterial
For he wasn't just cooking
He was pan frying with butter
Something downright magisterial

I'm far too busy keeping my hair and nails in sheen
But the male brain cannot comprehend
Pasta with no protein

Are the twenty-twenties going to be known
For an anticipated hype bubble
Their entire length
I try I swear to stay out of trouble
But Lord give me strength

She was an actuary
With a minor in geo-visceral
The mailed fist in the soft glove
And had a habit of mogging
And I balked at her solipsistic
Acrobatics and took to deriding her fake
Emulation of the yokel frankly it was rather sus
Her take on politicization of movement or the lack thereof
Was That Bedrotting is aristocratic
Taking a walk is communist
Hiking is reactionary
Riding the bus is social democrat
And Jogging is neoliberal

I'm way ahead
On getting her to make me a sandwich
You need to get up to speed
I'm impressing her in her DM's
Saying things in a dead language
She can't even read

With eyes that pierced me like a laser, she asked
What the fuck is this Frutiger Aero erasure
I'd lost the plot somewhere but I knew
She'd never been where she was referring back to

I said self-improvers trying to give advice
Are like here are the numbers i used to win the lottery
And then I paid the price
She screeched at me
Kind of like a peer reviewer
When you try to sneak in irony

I decided to hit below the belt
I said hey don't pout
This pasta is delish
And you look positively radiant
But as regards Billie Eilish
I'd venture that sleepy trout
Probably have a perfection gradient
Just like anything else
My remark may be out of place
But who are we to dump on her creative space

She fired back
We went to Plymouth Rock
And your idea of being expressive was
Sorry if you find the terminal moraine
Insufficiently impressive

The backers of mass media found out how to
Find their way to society's garbage disposal
They overestimate humans' entertainment value
Except in the absurdity of the proposal

Welcome to the you and I verse
It contains a bunch of lines
Instead of being rather terse
X and Y combines
Some things that could be worse
Like making wine before it's time

Sex Cult For Two Synth Draft (Level Tweaking)

Composed, produced, sung and played by Carlos R (Carlos Rodrigues)

Já não há o céu azul
Os insectos estão a morrer
Tudo isto bem organizado
Por aqueles que detém o poder

Já não há cravos de abril
Nem direito à opinião 
Tudo isto bem controlado 
Naquela box que usas no serão 

Já não há liberdade financeira
És controlado pelo Banco Central
E se disseres a palavra proibida
És bloqueado na rede social

Planeta binário 
Tecnologia digital 
Aprendes tudo ao contrário 
Educação original 

Escravos modernos
Programados para consumir
Em terra de cegos
Quem tem olho vai-te possuir 

Já não há ciência verdadeira
A narrativa tomou o seu lugar
E o ladrão de software
É cientista que diz querer-te salvar

Já não há moral e religião 
O ser humano é remetido ao fracasso 
E justificam isso com a evolução
Quando em ti te arrancam um pedaço 

Planeta binário 
Tecnologia digital 
Aprendes tudo ao contrário 
Educação original 

Escravos modernos
Programados para consumir
Em terra de cegos
Quem tem olho vai-te possuir

Terra de cegos

New key, new verses, brand new release
Special thanks to Mr Woodhand for mastering and producing the bubble organ tracks and that magical lick in the bridge.
Lyrics by Barlangi Fuvalat:    (translation below)

ahelyett hogy más szavakat
keresnél, hogy megbocsássak
eltünsz inkább azt remélve
ha nem látlak elfelejtlek

refrén:
pedig nincsen, nincsen semmi
szerelem sincs, nincs mit tenni

csak a kövek a folyóparton
ott amiket a vízbe löktünk
mész befele, egyre mélyebb
uszni kezdel, én csak nézlek

refrén

penge élén ördög táncol
csigakürtön fuvolázol
megyek én is, uszok veled
sodor az ár, így szereted

AI translation:

Instead of finding other words 
For me to forgive you 
You'd rather disappear, hoping 
That if I don't see you, I'll forget you

Chorus: 
And yet there is nothing, 
nothing at all There's 
no love either, 
nothing to be done

Only the stones on the riverbank 
Those that we threw into the water 
You go inward, deeper and deeper 
You start to swim, I just watch you

Chorus

The devil is dancing on a razor's edge 
You are playing a flute on a conch shell 
I'm going too, I'll swim with you 
The current sweeps us, that's how you like it

ahelyetthogy

Room

All Parts by Robert Grigg. 
Drums by Yamaha Keyboard

Drop Top

The Funk You Make

A therapeutic journey into a mix of jazz, classical, and a blend of types of electronica.  And a wry, gradual observation that promotion tends to only go as far as you push it.  At least I make my fellow musicians laugh a little.

Moments Before Disaster - submission for Weekly Note Composing Jam 2 for Itch.IO (Acoustic Draft)

Doug Stoothoff