From the 2023 relese "Pour Vous". Visual album version available at YouTube: youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8T5Lghk0rkScV5_d8uTndbgezvu_0Vxl

Un Programme - Suitcase of Tape

this possum may be same one as in recent videos seen chasing a particular cat multiple times, it seems to live in the same tree as the one in the photo (taken by me in 2019)

2 metronomes, a brandy snifter with coffee in it and kidbass malldad on a rainy spring morning

made with casio, zoom h1 microphone, and NCH editing software
based off a multitrack casio piece from my old frog based tone poem called frog is melancholy at the gas station and i just improvised  on top
original https://soundcloud.com/fr0ggy5/fr0g-is-melancholy-at-the-gas-station-tone-poem

melancholy improv midsummer night in July 2025

TWAYNE-COLD,COLD HEART.wav

azusio

SOON to move to Bandcamp as an album  - in the meantime, you can also listen in sequence here:  https://soundcloud.com/sonic-textures/sets/scalar-fields
instruments: Jeff Gardiner and jo richter
voice: Jeff Gardiner
modulation, arrangement and all that: jo richter
lyrics: Jeff Gardiner in collaboration with jo richter
image: Jeff Gardiner in collaboration with jo richter
note by jo: for very real, material reasons, some people describe living entities as "stardust" and "all vibration". in our current, mentally largely dissociated state, it would make as much sense, though, to describe us as "stellar noise". It will take heartfulls of kindness and mindloads of understanding and nuances of acceptance of letting go and so much more to individually evolve into more harmonic states.

it is time, he said, to address the cosmic egg
the liquid consistency of what it holds
and the fact that insects and crusteceans
are clad in terrean space suits of their very own
and human skin can crack and bleed and peel and heal
and their minds are similar to that in more than one respect

it is also time, he put forth in further understanding
that the very nature of awareness, sentience and connection
to the entities we cannot smell or touch in our tuesday state of mind
and our wednesday protocols and even in our sunday suits
and unprotected glowing selves - unless that little voice trails off

and there is nothing left to win or lose or be or presuppose
and see the inside out in four dimensions, to welcome the upside
round and fingers that can shape the world without a tool

or a machine or automated processes and institutions and free
of data that informs the abstract mind but starves the living tentacles
of kindness and a self endowed with all the silence held to listen

that's why you will have to make a bold decision
to overcome your dizzy spinning sputtering state
of fuzzy feeling and self-involved confusion made
and all that fruitless pro- and inhibition
and turn that little voice off in your head
turn that little voice off in your head

(instrumental, including free static noises)

even in the southern realms and climes
the mongrels at the helm and lost in rhymes
tell wicked tales encumbered only by
some long forgotten memory
buried to the burnished hilt
while in a building built by lords and ladies of the cosmic court
while all the scouts appear as tiny lights
of white and red and blue and green
in smokey dreams of sorcery...........

scalar fields pt6 hide and seek

scalar fields pt 8: hide and seek - with stonerjazz

Accie

Somewhat doom-laden reflection of the prospect....but cheering up, it may never come down to a rogue algorithm sparking it all off!! Hooray!......
Blues track:
Synth; Tenor saxes; Soprano saxes; flutes; alto flutes(bridge); oboes; clarinets (bass parts).
Beats and explosions c/o Garageband.

Pic. 'Silicon Cities' by Heiko Hellwig c/o Pinterest

Algorithmic - Armageddon Blues

onde dormem os gatos sevagens

Just addendum to 'Covers from my heart' (for it took me way longer than expected to find halfway suitable English rhymes after translating my German text template)

The background: I spent my childhood at a time when books were the main sources for imagination and dreams. One of favorites: The Sea-Wolf. I was mostly fascinated by the flashbacks recounting the meeting of two kids (Hump and Frisco Kid) from completely different social classes, in which each of their respective worlds exerted a special attraction on the other. 

I felt the same way. I didn't come from a wealthy family, but a middle-class home and I found everything that didn't conform to middle-class rules magical. I sought out the “wicked,” and failed miserably to be accepted there. 

Much later I realized how massively privileged my life was compared to their dreary and hopeless environment marked by poverty and violence, which has not changed to this day. Quit the opposite. And although I support an association that cares for them, I feel that I am utterly unable to make any difference at all.

This song is an attempt to imagine something impossible to imagine unless you are affected by it yourself. I interpreted my German words with the help of DeepL and used various pages to find rhymes, synonyms and idioms. The musical template was a piece I wrote 20 years ago as an instrumental that I turned into a blue grass version.

According to the literal translation of my German words, the song should be called "Scumland," but I didn't like that title at all. Ultimately, I chose “wasteland” because “waste” has so many more relevant layers of meaning in the context of the song.

©music and lyrics by Hans-Michael Albers, vocals by suno 4.5+

I wake to the sound of a bottle smashin'
Mama's on the floor
Her dreams are crashin'
The sink's full of rust
The walls are peelin'
Dad’s fists talk louder than any feelin'
Broken bikes rustin' in the neighbor's yard
Kids playin' games
But the rules hit hard
Streetlights flicker like a dying hope
This town’s a noose
I’m the end of the rope
 
On the corner
Smoke hangs like a funeral veil
Dealers whisper stories
Every word’s a jail
Shadows move fast
But the clocks stay slow
This ain't a place where dreams ever grow
Siren songs scream in the midnight sky
You run or you fight
Or you just get by
The concrete jungle got no vines to climb
Just cracks in the ground
And they swallow time
 
Dirt on my hands
Dirt in my soul
The streets take a piece
And they never let go
Violence is a language
We all understand
See you in wasteland
Where all your hopes end
Get lost in wasteland
No chance to defent
‘cause this is wasteland, yoh

My boy Jamal got a scar like a map
Says it tells the story of a knife’s trap
He dreams of cars that purr like lions
But wakes to the sound of his mama cryin'
The gangs wear flags like it’s some parade
But the floats are coffins
The streets are their stage
Every breath feels like it’s borrowed time
Every rhyme’s a bullet
So I load my mind
 
The train tracks hum
But they never stop here
Even the rails know there’s nothin’ near
Dreams don’t board
They just stay in the dark
Like ghosts of a life that never found its spark
 
Dirt on my hands
Dirt in my soul
The streets take a piece
And they never let go
Violence is a language
We all understand
See you in wasteland
Where all your hopes end
Get lost in wasteland
No chance to defent
‘cause this is wasteland, yoh


Get lost in wasteland

I came across this beautiful,  atmospheric track from Martin Neuhold and added some guitar and ebow lines. I hope you like its ambience. I think this is unusual for me as there are no drums or bass rhythms. .for me Martin made it texturally complete.

https://soundcloud.com/martinneuhold/rotating-spirals-60-bpm

Lead electric guitar: Nick Davies
All other instruments : Martin Neuhold

Be as good as your will allows

Nick

Photo : https://www.pinterest.com/xforgetmenotx/sky-scapes/

Rotating Spirals - Martin Neuhold And Nick

This is what I did.
Fast asleep now
Time was our only enemy 
Be good
Nick

Rotating Spirals - Martin Neuhold And Nick

Nicholas Ridiculous