scythe wielding  persistence hunters tapping neural synergies

image, words and sounds and composition: copyright jo richter

das also tragen wir mit uns herum
ausgediente vortagsideen
modifizierbar, wenn um
uns passungsfugen klaffen

noch einmal kind sein: mit ungelenkem sinn
und ungelenkten sinnen den urwald spür'n
der altes eisen überwuchert! wohin
geht der, den keine altatlanten führ'n?

interlinear translation: subjectively plausible yet objectively faulty reason to reincarnate // that, therefore, is what we carry / yesterday's used-up notions / that can be modified when / the modules and tiles stop fitting around us // to be a child, once again: with unwieldy mind / and unguided senses to feel the jungle / overgrowing rusted rebar! where do they go / who are not guided by outdated maps in fraying bindings?

subjektiv verständlicher doch objektiv fehlerhafter grund zu reinkarnieren

There is a picture by Carl Spitzweg this track refers to: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gnome_Watching_Railway_Train Also, there is a poem byJeff Gardiner (stonerjazz: https://soundcloud.com/user-911083679 ) that I reworked beyond recognition to answer to that picture. I herewith do apologize to both the maestros. An Akai Miniak, a Korg VT4, a Superlux D112/C and a Zoom R8 as well as Samplitude x8 software were complicit in the crime. Furthermore: Would anyone today still create a work of skill and art and not resort to AI? For this one, I played every instrument myself and you can hear my voice .... but the image is a self-warholized part of the original ......

poem: Jeff Gardiner and Jo Richter
sounds and composition: Jo Richter
image: Carl Spitzweg and Jo Richter

listening through
echo cavities, he
small and uninformed
seemed to know

in knotted root dreams
few and far between, he
unarmed and unharmed
was left behind in the waking

exponentially exposed
sleeps's leftover claim, he
felt grown, expanded
with sunlight pooling
trained heath
underneath

gnome

gnome - with stonerjazz

Narration: You might not have heard of her. Putting it coarsely and ironing out all the creases, Annette von Droste-Hülshoff is to Germany what Emily Dickinson is to the US. The enigmatic female in its most demure, most poetry-ridden, most romantically inoffensive incarnation. For some time, she had hoped to enter a different self by incorporating Levin Schücking as her significant other - she had moved to enter the Schücking dimension, so to say. Alas and for reasons manifold, this turned out to be another The-Revolutionary-Will-Be-Idolized-Just-Like-Lord-Byron tale. Living not all too far away from her 19th century  exile abode, I endeavour to pay homage to that encounter between the intravert poet and her outgoing shadow.

All the sounds, the words, the images, the poem and all the compositional connections: copyright jo richter

THE SCHÜCKING DIMENSION

now, living is lethal, she
claims, looking down at her hands
in Victorian deference -
did he hear her breathing? - the
other side is greener still: lands
of plenty, sympathy, acceptance -

and she, removed from all demands
praises reeds that gently bend
but do not know hypocrisy -
would he share that notion, chance
another self? – those who mend
she knows, must have suffered rupture
and loss to outgrow sullen infancy:
there is no comfort at this juncture

the schücking dimension

method: LIMBO! - all of the sounds you hear have traversed a low pass filter at some point or other
narration: I can't hear you - reception is bad - there is a lot of interference and stuff
image, sounds, poem, composition and everything else: copyright jo richter

limelight horror, body terror
your past on a celluloid leash
hauled in to mask the hapless tremor
of neurons and genes, mirrored and selfish

a sky full of stars and the moral law
induce, produce, extrude and include
a common man’s somewhat hesitant awe
while AI assures it is ready to reboot

government agents raid homes in the nude
who will have seen claim that they saw
man’s not as nubile as a lemur
earth holds more ocean than there are fish

this is all dead weight, in the interim
learn to let go, the weltgeist insists
your heart is as pure as the code on the bin
a bird, a feather, an item, no lists

tally categorial - not for the faint of hearing

I am overjoyed to partake in sounds beautiful:
https://youtu.be/1TnalFltP_Q?si=VidMVZ9VDKGZiNUm  by Dan and
https://stonerjazz.bandcamp.com/album/up-up-out by Jeff.

Jeff also gifted me a visiting role on his previous album: 
https://stonerjazz.bandcamp.com/album/quintessential

.... and here is my own test account:
https://sonicstructuresandsilentstretches.bandcamp.com/track/eliza

POETRY IS VITAL

This threshold space exists for those who feel like listening to some of my quite professional poetry embedded in rather amateurishly recorded but judiciously arranged sound, a modicum of purely acoustic work notwithstanding.  Fortunately, some other artists have also transformed the symbolic expression of my words into the tangible beauty of real songs and soundscapes - just listen to Sympoetic Ultrasounds: https://soundcloud.com/sonic-textures/sets/sympoetic-ultrasounds !

SOUND, SPACE AND TIME

Tend your listening senses gently. Even though my general approach welcomes and embraces lo-fi concepts like the precision of spontaneously occuring imprecisions, headphones worth their membranes are recommended - unless you like your sounds flat, mangled, battered and helpless. You don't, do you? Be kind to these soundscapes.

STRUCTURING IMPULSE

Due to the nature of "poetry soundscapes", your listening expectations regarding traditionally structured "songs", sonically purified "raw wildlife soundscapes", keyboard-laden "ambient recordings" or voice-centered "readings" might not be met. You will find some of those in my list of /likes/. "Noise" is a recurring structural element like any other. This is what this sounds like - within its own rights, limitations, tangents and interconnections. Sonic structures. Silent stretches. Poetry emerges from the gaps between the ruts, seeps in from the undergrowth, sweeps down.

CARVING, CHISELLING, KNEADING, MORPHING

A quick glance into my toolshed rests on Zoom recorders, Samplitude software and a dizzying array of diverse sonic machinery.

LARGE AND SMALL GIFTS

-----------------------------
Small Gifts

the less to remember, the more to listen
gifts from the ice age reverberate
a simple story, a forest, a coastline
entangled in silence, one starts to relate
---------------------------------------------

In case you have read up to this point, you might be a sonic creator yourself. May I ask you for a helping ear? Above, there is a tiny poem of mine that I do not understand how to translate into sound. If you do - please act on it. It is a matter of common decency, of course, to keep the title (Small Gifts) and to credit the lyrics to me (jo richter). And please do notify me of your version via a soundcloud message. One bewilderingly beautiful version crafted by mono-lux has already gone public, as well as an amazing version by cthonicist.  You'll find both in my playlist Sympoetic Ultrasounds. This is just a small gift, not a challenge - life already has more than enough of those on offer, doesn't it? Treat it this way.

POETRY IS VITAL
sound, space and time
structuring impulse
carving, chiselling, kneading, morphing
large and small gifts
poetry is vital

GENERAL POLICY regarding the use of LIKES, REPOSTS and FOLLOWS:
I like what I like and want to hear again.
I only repost what I've had a hand in creating.
I follow when I see directions or arrivals I like, not when followed (though I might peek in to get an idea of what your sounds are about). I have set myself a limit of accounts I follow not to be all too overwhelmed. Not following does therefore not mean I do not appreciate what you contribute to the enjoyments of soundcloud.
Do not expect other behaviour from me.
(jo richter)

tally categorial - not for the faint of hearing

sonic structures and silent stretches