Mixed and mastered by A7 Recording Studio (@a7-recording-studio) 
Produced by Blaž Pavšič

Taking the risk to repeat myself, I am always amazed about the roots and triggers of inspiration in general and in music for me. Sometimes, it’s obvious, sometimes, it’s a mix of a thousands things. In any case, it’s not always easy to identify, but usually funny to recognize! For this song, here are some hints...

Of course, as you can guess from its name, first is the city of Montreux itself… beautifully nestled between steep Alps hills and peaceful lakeside of Lac Leman: local, exotic, relaxing and creative all together.

Then, still talking about this town, less about its landscape and more about its world famous July's Montreux Jazz Festival, it leads to the second inspiration: Deep Purple' Smoke on the Water. Yes, sure, you know the story. If not, you should!

Also, the style of this track has been greatly shaped upon the influence of fabulous @AcuteInflections: yes, I like that "velvety mix of Erykah Badu & Billie Holiday paired with the cool grooves of her 007 on bass" of those 2 New Yorkers!

And finally, regarding 18:20? I'm sure you will figure it out by yourself...

But, still, the path from the initial idea to the song you can hear now was long. The few basic tones crystallized from a small game I do play to warm up my fingers on the guitar, moving it from warming-guitar-tone-exercise to piano/contrabass based track was pretty fun, but it wasn’t enough. Something was missing and there I got help from Blaž Pavšič, who produced the final version of the track, supplementing it with awesome percussion.

Hope you will find the outcome of this collaboration as nice as I do. You better do, as I can promise it's won’t be the only one ;-)

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▶ARTWORK◀
MaKo: instagram.com/marketka1975

Montreux 18:20

Earthquake

Umrandungen, Vol. 1

Umrandungen-01-06 (Remastered 2025)

Follow me on Social Media:
ffm.bio/tyrian


I find you crumbled upon the couch,
Lost in a haze of vacant thoughts.
I look on your face, yet pain’s not clear,
You think you’ve faded away, but still lie here.

Wander in dreams as you stumble through the garden,
And you pretend like there’s nothing wrong.
When I ask you what keeps your heart so hardened,
You’re merely laughing like man’s shadow gone astray.

The forest burns underneath your rage, what’s become of you?
Turned into a stranger for days, can’t discern what’s true.
Why won’t you let me inside your mind? Seems you’re cursed by a devil’s hand.
What’s the reward you’ll find in this haunted land,
For the dreams you lost?

You drive down the road like you’re in a rush,
Searching for your soul’s relief in deadly hush.
Yo:-in-g u return home late, with burdens in tow,
But no one dares to ask you; they’re scared of your blow.

Wander in dreams as you stumble through the garden,
And you pretend like there’s nothing wrong.
Five days passing; Jekyll reclaims his lost control,
But the Hyde in you mocks the fools’ own demons all along.

And forests burn underneath your rage, what’s become of you?
Turned into a stranger for days, can’t discern what’s true.
Why won’t you let me inside your mind? Seems you’re cursed by a devil’s hand.
What’s the reward you’ll find in this haunted land,
For the life you lost?

At long last, I catch you in your hiding place,
Find the remnant of the fetters you’ve embraced.
Voices call you: “Hey, Don’t ride the train that leads you toward darker days.”
With a sigh, you say: “I’m lost inside these nights! – Please, don’t tell a soul.”
So I’ll hide the car keys to help you stay,
But I hope you’ll find your way back home one day.

And forests burn underneath your rage, what’s become of you?
Turned into a stranger for days, can’t discern what’s true.
Why won’t you let me inside your mind? Seems you’re cursed by a devil’s hand.
But I sense you’re fighting hard to retrieve your stand,
For a better life!

You’re bravely facing creeping fiends that catch you in twilight’s hold.
You’ll become that kind man again.
But a closer look shows you can’t heal the gaping wound, can’t mask the truth ’cause it’s too late.
I wish it were a dream;
You’re just a shadow of your former self.

Cursed By A Devils Hand

Cursed By A Devil's Hand

No light without fire

Originally I had written this more than a year ago under the heavy influence of Sonic Youth and Thurston Moore memoirs in particular (around the same time as "Forgotten Boy" which was also driven by the same matters). I tried to record it back then though the result wasn't quite satisfying, so until now it existed only as an Instagram reel where I was playing it live.

It could have remained like this if I hadn't realized that this tune might fit in perfectly with my new Da Tape De H project. So here it is, wide dynamics and fierce high-gain strumming properly produced and put on tape with Tascam 424 MKIII portastudio.

Abu Dhabi
7/21/2025

Sonic Wave

ONLY ONE YOU NEED

Lyrics:
(Wash nine Wash miles)
(Wash up on the riverbank)
(Hinges)

It washed up on the riverbank last night
A frail bodied, weean donny
Back scared on the shoulder blades
He couldn't speak a word of our tongue
So we took him in, gave him clothes
He hid whenever he saw the sun

The town called him a devil
A beast born in the words
They said he killed the first borns
With the famine a decade back
He used to have wings
And answered only to Samael

He seemed only nine years old
His face cracked like an abby arch
The fog cast a concrete spell
I new kind of transparent saint, he sat
With the face of a messianic, martyred star

Nine miles, the gates blew off their hinges
Nine miles, one hundred years so solemn

But then he stood up, skin half dripping off
His frail body broke the rope
And dropped down from the bonfire
He crawled from the sun, the villagers fled
Half way through the woods
We found him with stubs on his back

He looked to the sky,
He aged a thousand years

Nine miles, the gates blew off their hinges
Nine miles, one hundred years so solemn

His face contorted, he screamed out in pain
The nubs grew, the blood spewed
He raised in the air, the nubs grew feathers
His feet left the floor and he burst into ashes

Nine miles, the gates blew off their hinges
Nine miles, one hundred years so solemn

ANTI MERIDIAN

saturday nite special

DON'T GIVE UP

It Was

This page still runs on passion, but reality is catching up.
I’m unemployed, can’t afford promotion, and I don’t know how long this music will stay online.

If it gave you something – a feeling, a thought, a breath – you’ve already given back.
Thank you for listening. It means more than words.

No light without fire

Jego and the Androids