all production, including art: Mizero
(this is the vocal version of PIANIMAL)
video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PF0PYuPkRH4
lyrics:
i am walking tightropes
i am walking tightropes
i am walking tightropes
what if i falllllll?

a little bit of this and 
a little bit of that
tit for tat
when the cat's away
the mice sure playyyy
and i cannot 
get away
from the 
cacophonic silence
in your eyes
this i realize
i am on thin ice
but it feels so nice
one, two, thrice
should suffice

i must quit this way
shake the day
ends in decay
i'd be so dismayed

to say the least

i am walking tightropes
i am walking tightropes
i am walking tightropes
what if i falllllll?.............

Tightropes

The Cat
September 2021
Duration: 2:40
Photo by Heidi Schnicker
Cover graphics: John-Marc Ventimiglia
"The Cat" features vocals by Pooh Bear, our often shy ginger kitty. Two years ago, we nearly lost Pooh twice to kidney failure, but he’s now a healthy, happy 10-year-old feline. He hides when visitors come over, but watch out when they are gone, he’s playful, curious, jumping on every piece of furniture he can find, and very vocal.  
For strings, woodwinds, brass, marimba, timpani, cat recordings and percussion

The Cat

"The Timeless Garden" is a place to just escape, where everything slows down and magic seems to float in the air. It’s a hidden spot full of calm, wonder, and a little bit of legend.

The Timeless Garden

Original foto- copyright by 
katja3885@instagram

A JOURNEY from THE FOREST

Written by Terry Reeves

Terry Reeves: Vocals
Hans Albers: All instruments, Arrangement, Production & Final Mix

Watching my brother Bri living out the last few months of his life was probably the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.  We had been told that there was no cure for his illness and that, at some point, the inevitable would happen.  But right up until the final few days, he refused to accept this, believing that, somewhere out there, there was some magical remedy he would find to take it all away.  He consulted with so many ‘alternative’ therapists, who all promised their brand of snake oil would deliver him from all that ailed him.  These were always both expensive and totally useless.  

A few weeks before he died, I was sitting by his hospital bed when he actually asked me, “Do You Believe In Magic?”  Knowing what I knew, what possible answer could I give?  Bri already knew the answer too but, all the same, I wished I could have given a convincing and unequivocal ‘yes’.  Difficult though it undoubtedly was, I had to reply that I didn’t but wanting to support him as best I could, told him I believed in him and would always love him 

There is nothing worse than watching someone in their final moments, particularly when they have been such an essential part of your life.  As you get older, facing this scenario becomes unavoidable and though age provides a better understanding of the fact, it never reduces the pain.  Both Gal and I faced similar bedside questions from Bri and this song tries to reflect those onerous, interminable times when one has to be both supportive and honest all at the same time.   

What can you say about Hans that hasn’t already been said?  When I sent him the demo of this song I did wonder if the subject matter may prove difficult.  But his  incredible ability to manifest every emotional nuance in his arrangements is something that always inspires and impresses, as demonstrated so beautifully here.  (Terry Reeves)

Do you believe in magic?
Do you believe in changing world?
Do you believe it's tragic?
Do you believe there's more to be told? 

Casting spells with waving hands
Praying thoughts with pagan strands
Making deals with Devil's soul
Sharing fears for spirit parole
No, no

Do you believe in magic?
Do you believe in immortal thoughts?
Do you believe in metric?
Do you believe in nine times nought? 

Tribal dancing, releasing curse
Tantric thinking, avoid the worse
Watching stars for future needs
Not drinking tea but reading leaves
No, no

Do you believe in magic?
Do you believe in sacrifice? 
Do you believe in panic?
Do you believe in rolling dice?

Chanting mantras one more day
Reiki heat takes pain away
Resurrection not in the plan
Wooden cross protect the man
No, no

Do you believe in magic?
Do you believe in searching prayer?
Do you believe in medics?
Do you believe in going nowhere? 

Holding bible in folded arms
Writing words, performing psalms
Chasing shadows, finding light
Avoid the truth, increase the fight
(Repeat verse)

No, no

Do you believe in magic? (Repeat until end)

Do You Believe In Magic? Cripple Club & Hans Albers (please see description)

words and music K Gennery
written and recorded 2017 when a Real Christmas was possible.

Its Christmas time dont drink no more falling down wine.
Or the bells will be in your head and not from the sleighs outside.
Its Christmas time, no snow but rain with a little shine
and you will still be mine this Christmas.

See the proud smile of everyman, around him gather his family clan.
He carves he saws but the knifes real blunt, he feels a bit of a silly.....one ;)
Then somebody will say what we all know that a woman is the heartbeat of every home.
Shes worked shes slaved for this one day and when its all done they all walk away.
With a sink full of washing up and a distant cry of mum thanks alot
its a real Christmas its a real Christmas.

The tvs on and the snorings already begun, but theres games to be used
to keep the children amused.
With choccies in one hand oh reluctantly some stand
and make their way to the table to play.

It warms the cockles of ones heart to witness three generations taking part.
They shout they scream hey theres been a cheat
and find the evidence at grandpas feet.
With a clap and a cheer the games declared void its a laugh a miniute for all the girls and boys.
Its time to take a piccie or two, now all squeeze together you know what to do.
Something for us all to remember this very special day
the 25th of December.
its a real Christmas its a real Christmas.

Is that the Northern star? Such a wonderous sight, oh no ive been mistaken
its just Daves light.

Unknown album (10/07/2018 18:29:35)

real christmas

Annunciation

It's Stones Covers Tuesday! When we were 20, my friend Micha and I had been spending dozens of hours in his small red car driving from gig to gig. The car had a tape deck, and the only tape we had was some Rolling Stones concert bootleg. Since then, this song has always been one of my favorites, and my take on it is to have added a bit more junkie feel.

Dead Flowers

Album 1981 - in the right order:
https://soundcloud.com/steve-fullyard/sets/1981a


This is the story of a man, which is probably in his prime, or on his way there, being totally drawn towards electronic music and synthesizers. 

In a state where he is highly working on his physical and mental skills and trying to pretty much live at fullest in the present day, there is still this longing back for and into the 80s, influencing his actions ...

One fateful day, there is this one paper ad, this one thing, which changes ... everything!

Enjoy this audio-visual journey into another world, and time.
HQ Version can be bought directly on Bandcamp.

1981

Bandcamp

Give Me Back The 80s (01)

One of my best friends ended up in a closed psychiatric ward a few years ago after a psychotic episode. He stayed there for a total of eight months. And I visited him there almost every week. 
I met doctors and nurses there who lovingly and empathetically cared for the mentally ill people on the ward. 
Nevertheless, despite all the commitment, the feeling remained that the patients were often separated from the helpers by an invisible wall. That the patients lived in a world which remained to a large extent strange and incomprehensible to the doctors, nurses and also relatives (as it did for me as the best friend). 
This basic feeling gave the impulse for the title of this song and the following lyrics. 

You don‘t know them

They sit under the water tap
The dull madness is reflected in their face

They have been declared insane 
Deflowered and dishonoured

Locked in a darkroom
With the label „Not worth living“

Their language is as a word salad
Banished to the madhouse

And I yell at them:
You commit slander against them
You degrade them to slaughter cattle
And again and again and again I scream:

You don't know them!

They were sent to the desert ice 
Far from the divine circle of life

Even as a child they were abandoned 
In their soul indelibly wounded

Their parents have turned away, 
They have never known this scum

The community sits at the table of gifts 
High shut, doors closed.

And I yell at them:
You commit slander against them
You degrade them to slaughter cattle
And again and again and again I scream
And again and again and again I scream
And again and again and again I scream:
You don't know them!

Einer meiner besten Freunde landete vor einigen Jahren nach einem psychotischen Schub in der geschlossenen Psychiatrie. Insgesamt acht Monate blieb er dort. Und ich besuchte ihn dort fast jede Woche. 
Ich begegnete dort Ärzten und Pflegern, die sich liebevoll und einfühlsam um die psychisch kranken Menschen auf der Station kümmerten. 
Dennoch blieb bei allem Engagement das Gefühl zurück, dass die Patienten häufig eine unsichtbare Wand von den Helfern trennte. Dass die Patienten in einer Welt lebten, die zu einem guten Teil für die Ärzte, Pfleger und auch Angehörigen (wie für mich als bester Freund) fremd und unverstehbar blieb. 
Dieses Grundgefühl gab den Anstoß für den Titel dieses Songs und den darauf basierenden Text.

Ihr kennt sie nicht

Sie sitzen unterm Wasserhahn
Im Gesicht spiegelt sich der dumpfe Wahn

Man hat sie verrückt erklärt, 
Entjungfert und entehrt

In einer Dunkelkammer eingesperrt
Mit dem Etikett nicht lebenswert

Ihre Sprache wird als Wortsalat
In das Irrenreich verbannt

Und ich schrei sie an:
Ihr rufmordet sie 
Ihr degradiert sie zum Schlachtvieh
Und wieder und wieder schrei ich:
Ihr kennt sie nicht!

Man schickte sie ins Wüsteneis 
Weit entfernt vom göttlichen Lebenskreis

Schon als Kind hat man sie ausgesetzt, 
In der Seele unauslöschbar verletzt

Ihre Eltern haben sich abgewandt 
Diesen Abschaum haben sie doch nie gekannt

Die Gemeinschaft sitzt am Gabentisch 
Hochgeschlossen, Türen zu

Und ich schrei sie an:
Ihr rufmordet sie 
Ihr degradiert sie zum Schlachtvieh
Und wieder und wieder schrei ich
und wieder und wieder schrei ich
und wieder und wieder schrei ich:
Ihr kennt sie nicht!

You don`t know them

You Don´t Know Them

Composed and performed by Admiral Krank. Drums by Mo Sheen. 

Cyborgian Folk Dance

Random Space-Ape Synth-Nerd somewhere out there!

Give Me Back The 80s (01)

Fullyard