Story
Barbegazi... The Guardian of the Eternal Snows
In the Swiss Alps, where the wind whistles among the peaks and snow covers the secrets of the world, the story is told of an elusive and benevolent creature: the Barbegazi.

Origin and Name
Its name comes from the Swiss French barbe glacée, meaning “frozen beard.” Barbegazi are said to be descendants of ancient mountain spirits, born from the breath of the first avalanches. Their bodies are small and covered in frost-white fur, but what is most striking are their feet: enormous, flat, designed to glide across the snow like living boards.

The Avalanche Surfer
When the mountains tremble and the snow crashes down in white torrents, the Barbegazi appear. They don't flee from disaster: they ride it. With supernatural grace, they surf the avalanches as if they were winter waves, guided by an ancestral instinct. Some mountaineers claim to have seen a tiny figure gliding across the snow just before being miraculously rescued.
Protector of the Lost
The Barbegazi do not seek company, but neither do they allow travelers to become hopelessly lost. When someone is lost in a blizzard, it is said that the Barbegazi hears their cries through the wind. He does not speak, but he leaves giant footprints that lead to hidden shelters, or he sets off small avalanches that reveal safe paths. His presence is a whisper in the blizzard, a white shadow that guides unseen.
Rituals and Beliefs
In some Alpine villages, shepherds still leave small offerings of warm milk near cave entrances, hoping the Barbegazi will accept them as thanks for protecting his people. It is believed that if one hears a high-pitched whistling sound during a snowstorm, there is no need to fear... it is the Barbegazi, marking the way.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

Sonic Universe III

Barbegazi IV

Story
Anna Göldi... The Last Snow of Glarus
In the deep valley of Glarus, where the Alps lean like wise old men over the red-tiled rooftops, lived a woman with a steady gaze and calloused hands... Anna Göldi. She wasn't a witch, although the snow seemed to stop in her wake and children stopped crying when she sang to them. She was a servant, a mother, a healer, and above all, free in a time that didn't forgive freedom in a poor woman.

The rumors began like snowflakes: small, cold, harmless. That the doctor's daughter vomited pins, that Anna knew too much about herbs, that her green eyes were too intense for a servant. In a Switzerland that considered itself enlightened, medieval fear still throbbed beneath the judges' robes.
The trial was a farce. There was no stake, but there was torture. There was no evidence, but there was a confession extracted amidst screams. In 1782, when Europe was already speaking of reason and rights, Anna Göldi was executed, accused of witchcraft. The last. The last in a long line of women silenced for being different, wise, and unsettling.

But the story didn't end there.
Winters continued to fall on Glarus, but with each snowfall, someone remembered. In whispers at first, then in books. In 2008, more than two centuries later, the Swiss state acknowledged the injustice: Anna was not a witch, but a victim of a society that feared what it could not control.
Today, in the Glarus museum, there is an empty display case. It holds not objects, but memories. And in the square, a wrought-iron sculpture depicts a woman walking against the wind, her head held high. It is Anna. Not as a martyr, but as a symbol.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

Anna Göldi

Anna Göldi II

Anna Göldi III

Anna Göldi IV

Story
The Siren of the Rhine... A love story with echoes of legend
In the misty folds of the Upper Rhine, where the waters turn emerald and the echoes of the Alps whisper ancient secrets, lived a creature who belonged neither to the world of men nor to that of spirits. They called her Loretta, the Siren of the Rhine, though her true name had been lost in the currents of time.

They say she was born from the tears of a star that fell into Lake Constance, and that her song could halt the course of ships or make willows bloom in the dead of winter. Her hair was like silver seaweed, and her eyes, two submerged moons.

Every night, when the clock of the Stein am Rhein abbey struck midnight, Loretta emerged from among the rocks of Lorelei, that promontory the fishermen avoided, and sang. Not out of vanity, but out of love. For centuries before, a young Swiss minstrel, Alaric, had heard her voice and promised to return. But he never did. Generations passed. The Rhine changed course, castles crumbled, and men forgot. All except her.

Until one day, a young violinist named Matteo, from Basel, came to the river seeking inspiration. He had heard rumors of an impossible melody, a harmony that could only be grasped by listening with an open heart and bare feet on the damp stone.

Matteo played his violin by the water. And Loretta, for the first time in centuries, did not sing. She listened.

Night after night, he returned. And she, invisible, wove a second voice with her song, a voice that intertwined with the violin. Thus was born a music that was not of this world... neither human nor magical, but both.

But the love between a mortal and a creature of the river cannot last without sacrifice.
On the last moon of autumn, Loretta revealed herself. Matteo did not flee. He offered her his violin, carved from wood from the Aargau forest, and asked only one thing... that she remember him.

She accepted. And with a kiss that tasted of dew and salt, she enveloped him in a wave of light. Matteo disappeared, but his music remained.

Since then, on certain foggy nights, the fishermen of the Rhine claim to hear a violin and a voice searching for each other, finding one another, and merging into a sweet lament. They say it is Loretta, still singing. Not to attract, but to remember.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Siren of the Rhine

The Siren of the Rhine II

The Siren of the Rhine III

The Siren of the Rhine IV

Story
The Keeper of Time of Lauterbrunnen
En el valle de Lauterbrunnen, donde las cascadas caen como hilos de plata desde acantilados imposibles, vivía un joven pastor llamado Elias. Su vida transcurría entre el pastoreo de cabras, la contemplación de los glaciares, y los cuentos que su abuela le narraba sobre los relojes mágicos de los antiguos relojeros de Berna.
Una noche de luna llena, mientras buscaba una cabra extraviada cerca del lago Trümmelbach, Elias encontró un reloj de bolsillo enterrado en la nieve. No era un reloj común: su esfera mostraba constelaciones en movimiento, y en lugar de manecillas, tenía dos agujas de cristal que giraban al ritmo de su respiración.
Al girar la corona del reloj, el tiempo se detenía. Las gotas de agua suspendidas en el aire, el viento congelado en su rugido, y hasta el eco de los cencerros quedaban atrapados en un instante eterno. Elias descubrió que podía avanzar o retroceder el tiempo en breves momentos, pero cada uso del reloj despertaba algo en el lago: una figura espectral, vestida con ropas de pastor antiguo, emergía entre la bruma.
Este fantasma, llamado Albrecht, había sido el primer guardián del reloj, condenado a vagar por los glaciares por haber abusado de su poder. Le advirtió a Elias: “El tiempo no es un juguete, sino un río que no debe ser represado.”
Elias, tentado por la posibilidad de salvar a su madre enferma, decidió usar el reloj una última vez. Retrocedió tres días, encontró una planta medicinal que solo florecía en la noche de luna llena, y logró curarla. Pero al hacerlo, el reloj se quebró, y Albrecht desapareció en paz, liberado por el acto desinteresado.
Desde entonces, los pastores de Lauterbrunnen cuentan que, en noches de luna llena, si escuchas el eco de un cencerro sin cabra, es el espíritu de Albrecht, velando por quienes respetan el fluir del tiempo.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Keeper of Time of Lauterbrunnen

The Keeper of Time of Lauterbrunnen II

The Keeper of Time of Lauterbrunnen III

The Keeper of Time of Lauterbrunnen IV

[Verse 1 – Lead voice]
High atop the sacred mountain,
where the wind whispers to the ice, Liora sings her ancient anthem, and the earth begins to rise.

[Chorus – Choir]
Descend, descend, O flower of snow!
The mountain is breathing, the life must go.
With horns and fire, with dances of grace, we honor the cycle, the sacred embrace.

[Verse 2 – Lead voice]
Winter waits behind the curtain,
with his cloak of frost and fear,
but Liora’s voice, so bright and certain, makes the warmth of life appear.

[Chorus – Choir]
Descend, descend, O flower of snow!
The mountain is breathing, the life must go.
With horns and fire, with dances of grace, we honor the cycle, the sacred embrace.

[Bridge – Voice and echoing choir]
Bells are ringing, roots are singing, the soul of the valley
awakens, ascending.

[Final verse – Lead voice]
And if you listen near the ridges,
as the sun begins to fall, you may hear among the ledges
Liora’s vow to heed the call.

[Final chorus – Full choir]
Descend, descend, O flower of snow!
The mountain is breathing, the life must go.
With horns and fire, with dances of grace, we honor the cycle, the sacred embrace.

Story
The Dance of the Edelweiss... An Alpine legend about the cycle of life and communion with the earth.

In the high valleys of Switzerland, where glaciers whisper ancient secrets and cowbells mark the rhythm of time, an ancestral festival is celebrated every autumn: the descent from the pastures, known in the local dialect as Alpabfahrt. But few remember its mythical origin, passed down by the elders on nights of the full moon.

Legend tells that centuries ago, when the gods still walked among men, a shepherdess named Liora, daughter of the wind and moss, lived high on Mount Pilatus. Every spring, she led her flock to the celestial meadows, where the flowers spoke and the rivers sang. There, among the edelweiss and shooting stars, the animals grew stronger, and the earth was renewed.

But the balance was fragile. The winter god, Nivor, jealous of the verdant landscape, cast a curse: if the shepherds did not descend before the first snowfall, the mountain would be sealed forever. Liora, heeding the warning of the wise ravens, organized a ceremony to honor the cycle of life. She wove flower crowns, lit ritual fires, and descended with her flock to the sound of alpine horns and songs that mimicked the earth's sigh.

Since then, every year, the villagers repeat the ritual. The cows descend adorned with flowers and mirrors, the children dance wearing masks of forest spirits, and the elders recount Liora's story. It is believed that, if you listen closely, the echo of her song still resonates among the crags.

The festival is not just an agricultural celebration: it is a pact with the mountain, a dance between humans and nature, a promise of respect and renewal.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Dance of the Edelweis

The Dance of the Edelweis

[Verse 1 – Lead voice]
High atop the sacred mountain,
where the wind whispers to the ice, Liora sings her ancient anthem, and the earth begins to rise.

[Chorus – Choir]
Descend, descend, O flower of snow!
The mountain is breathing, the life must go.
With horns and fire, with dances of grace, we honor the cycle, the sacred embrace.

[Verse 2 – Lead voice]
Winter waits behind the curtain,
with his cloak of frost and fear,
but Liora’s voice, so bright and certain, makes the warmth of life appear.

[Chorus – Choir]
Descend, descend, O flower of snow!
The mountain is breathing, the life must go.
With horns and fire, with dances of grace, we honor the cycle, the sacred embrace.

[Bridge – Voice and echoing choir]
Bells are ringing, roots are singing, the soul of the valley
awakens, ascending.

[Final verse – Lead voice]
And if you listen near the ridges,
as the sun begins to fall, you may hear among the ledges
Liora’s vow to heed the call.

[Final chorus – Full choir]
Descend, descend, O flower of snow!
The mountain is breathing, the life must go.
With horns and fire, with dances of grace, we honor the cycle, the sacred embrace.

Story
The Dance of the Edelweiss... An Alpine legend about the cycle of life and communion with the earth.

In the high valleys of Switzerland, where glaciers whisper ancient secrets and cowbells mark the rhythm of time, an ancestral festival is celebrated every autumn: the descent from the pastures, known in the local dialect as Alpabfahrt. But few remember its mythical origin, passed down by the elders on nights of the full moon.

Legend tells that centuries ago, when the gods still walked among men, a shepherdess named Liora, daughter of the wind and moss, lived high on Mount Pilatus. Every spring, she led her flock to the celestial meadows, where the flowers spoke and the rivers sang. There, among the edelweiss and shooting stars, the animals grew stronger, and the earth was renewed.

But the balance was fragile. The winter god, Nivor, jealous of the verdant landscape, cast a curse: if the shepherds did not descend before the first snowfall, the mountain would be sealed forever. Liora, heeding the warning of the wise ravens, organized a ceremony to honor the cycle of life. She wove flower crowns, lit ritual fires, and descended with her flock to the sound of alpine horns and songs that mimicked the earth's sigh.

Since then, every year, the villagers repeat the ritual. The cows descend adorned with flowers and mirrors, the children dance wearing masks of forest spirits, and the elders recount Liora's story. It is believed that, if you listen closely, the echo of her song still resonates among the crags.

The festival is not just an agricultural celebration: it is a pact with the mountain, a dance between humans and nature, a promise of respect and renewal.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Dance of the Edelweis II

Story
The Dance of the Edelweiss... An Alpine legend about the cycle of life and communion with the earth.

In the high valleys of Switzerland, where glaciers whisper ancient secrets and cowbells mark the rhythm of time, an ancestral festival is celebrated every autumn: the descent from the pastures, known in the local dialect as Alpabfahrt. But few remember its mythical origin, passed down by the elders on nights of the full moon.

Legend tells that centuries ago, when the gods still walked among men, a shepherdess named Liora, daughter of the wind and moss, lived high on Mount Pilatus. Every spring, she led her flock to the celestial meadows, where the flowers spoke and the rivers sang. There, among the edelweiss and shooting stars, the animals grew stronger, and the earth was renewed.

But the balance was fragile. The winter god, Nivor, jealous of the verdant landscape, cast a curse: if the shepherds did not descend before the first snowfall, the mountain would be sealed forever. Liora, heeding the warning of the wise ravens, organized a ceremony to honor the cycle of life. She wove flower crowns, lit ritual fires, and descended with her flock to the sound of alpine horns and songs that mimicked the earth's sigh.

Since then, every year, the villagers repeat the ritual. The cows descend adorned with flowers and mirrors, the children dance wearing masks of forest spirits, and the elders recount Liora's story. It is believed that, if you listen closely, the echo of her song still resonates among the crags.

The festival is not just an agricultural celebration: it is a pact with the mountain, a dance between humans and nature, a promise of respect and renewal.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Dance of the Edelweis III

332 - Inkognito / Geronimo
332/365 Daily Songs!

...
prod. Overtime

332 - Inkognito / Geronimo

El Ritmo

Tolle Einladung im Baseler Radio X, wie gewohnt mit einem Vinyl Mix von mir und das ganze auch noch als Live Aufnahme :)

Radio X Retro Vinyl Trance Dj Mix

Jeden Tag 1 Song raw aus den letzten 5 Jahren!
🎯 365 - 1 Album
Komm mit auf die Reise...

(Songs komplett raw/unbearbeitet)

Between myths, stories and galaxies... Welcome to my SoundCloud.

There are songs that aren't just heard... they are remembered like a dream or felt like a ritual.
I am J. Bilbao, music composer that intertwines the music with legends, forgotten constellations, and stories you may have never heard. Every note, every word, is born from a cross between the ancestral and the futuristic.

If you've ever been moved by a story that seemed written for you. If you've ever felt like a melody spoke to you from another time or planet... then this space is yours too.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment  ➕📃🎧  Add to your playlists...  Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here...   J. Bilbao

Klassischer Dj der per Vinyl und Cd Spielt, mein sound ist ab den 90ern oldschool Goa Trance, progressive Trance, full on , aber auch Trance ,Techno, Rave und Acid ... spiele meist in Deutschland und der Schweiz.
English:
I am a classical DJ playing vinyl and cd, my sound is from the 90s oldschool goa trance, progressive trance, full on, but also trance, techno, rave and acid ... mostly in Germany and Switzerland.

New tracks tagged #swiss