TOTALLY HAPPY SAD IN THE 80s

The shadows lengthen, stretching across the room 
Another day is fading, swallowed by the gloom 
The clock ticks on, a metronome of slow decay 
Withering grace, fading fast, slipping away
 
The world outside, a blur of passing lights 
A symphony of sirens, lost in the lonely nights 
Memories flicker, ghosts of joys long gone 
A bittersweet refrain, a mournful, fading song
 
Such a shame, to watch it all unfold 
Beauty withering, a story left untold 
The fragile heart, a vessel cracked and torn 
Drifting aimlessly, lost and forlorn

The rain falls softly, washing dust away 
But the stains remain, with each passing day 
A yearning for the past, a yearning for the light 
To escape this fading echo, in the fading night
 
Such a shame, to watch it all unfold. 
Beauty withering, a story left untold 
The fragile heart, a vessel cracked and torn 
Drifting aimlessly, lost and forlorn
 
A whisper on the wind, a sigh upon the breeze 
Carrying the echoes of forgotten memories 
A yearning for the warmth, a yearning for the grace 
Before the shadows fell, and time began to race

Such Like A Shame

There are no virgins in heaven.
A hymn for the left and retarded

Misanthropic Hallelujah Female Version

Floating away, in this metal tomb,
Where time stands still, and there's only gloom.
Oh, Pilot lost, in the cosmic sea,
Will anyone remember, will they remember me?

Ten light years out, the stars all align,
My ship's a ghost, through the void I climb.
Control to Pilot, can you hear my plea?
A silent hum, just the ship and me.

Floating away, in this metal tomb,
Where time stands still, and there's only gloom.
Oh, Pilot lost, in the cosmic sea,
Will anyone remember, will they remember me?

The Earth's a speck, a fading blue,
No turning back, what else can I do?
My oxygen's low, my systems fail,
In this endless night, my spirit sets sail.

They said I'd be a hero, a pioneer,
But out here alone, there's only fear.
No grand parade, no cheering crowd,
Just the silent stars, my lonely shroud.

Floating away, in this metal tomb,
Where time stands still, and there's only gloom.
Oh, Pilot lost, in the cosmic sea,
Will anyone remember, will they remember me?

Ground Control, I'm losing the signal now,
Just static whispers, and a fading vow.
This is Pilot signing off, into the black,
No turning back, no turning back…


Lost in the Void

And the manners are polished, the silver gleams bright,
But the sentiment's tarnished in the fading light.
Oh, the barbarism blossoms behind a closed door,
Where love is a weapon and leaves you wanting more.

The floral wallpaper, a predictable stain,
Reflects the silence, a dull, persistent rain.
Another Sunday, the roast sits on the bone,
And unspoken judgments are quietly thrown.
He clears his throat, a familiar, weary sound,
While all the unspoken resentments spin around.

She adjusts her pearls, a nervous little tic,
Recounting stories, predictable and quick.
The children fidget, their eyes begin to glaze,
Lost in the labyrinth of these repetitive days.
He offers advice, sharp and unsolicited,
Another brick added to the wall we've erected.

The photographs on the mantelpiece, a smiling facade,
Hide the cracks beneath, the battles we've had.
We play our roles with practiced, weary grace,
A tragicomedy in this suffocating space.

And the manners are polished, the silver gleams bright,
But the sentiment's tarnished in the fading light.
Oh, the barbarism blossoms behind a closed door,
Where love is a weapon and leaves you wanting more.

The evening descends, a heavy, velvet shroud,
Another day survived within this well-behaved crowd.
And the barbarism lingers, a taste upon the tongue,
Until the next gathering, when the same old song is sung.

Behind Closed Doors

The lamps are low, a bruised twilight bleeds,
Across the pane where the rain still pleads.
Each drop a sigh on the dusty glass,
Watching the moments slowly pass.
A whisper soft on the chilling breeze,
Rustling secrets through the skeletal trees.

The path unwinds, a ribbon of stone,
Leading me deeper, further alone.
Each twisted branch, a reaching hand,
Grasping for something I can't understand.
The air grows thick with a damp perfume,
Sealing my fate in this gathering gloom.

And I walk alone in this fading light,
Where shadows stretch and swallow the white.
A phantom limb of a memory's call,
Echoing softly beyond the wall.
Is it real, this shape in the grey?
Or just the forest stealing my day?

A flicker there, behind the dense wood,
A fragile hope, misunderstood?
Or just the moon, a sliver so thin,
Mocking the darkness that dwells within?

And I walk alone in this fading light,
Where shadows stretch and swallow the white.
A phantom limb of a memory's call,
Echoing softly beyond the wall.
Is it real, this shape in the grey?
Or just the forest stealing my day?

The forest breathes, a silent sigh,
As the last of the colors begin to die.
And I am lost, and I cannot see,
If the forest is holding onto me.
Holding onto me...
Holding onto me...

Walk alone in this fading light

Woke in the grey light, another day begun
Same four walls around me, where did the feeling run?
They told me in the classroom, they whispered in the hall
Every little pleasure would lead to a great fall.

And the shadows lengthen on the pristine page
Another confession in this gilded cage
They built it brick by brick with every fearful word
Now all I ever hear is what I've always heard.

Stolen moments after dark, a glance across the room
A fragile kind of comfort blooming in the gloom
But then the old voice echoes, a hammer in my head
Saying every touch you cherish is a path you shouldn't tread.

And the shadows lengthen on the pristine page
Another confession in this gilded cage
They built it brick by brick with every fearful word
Now all I ever hear is what I've always heard.

Is it such a transgression to want a little light?
To break these heavy curtains in the lonely night?
This guilt they planted deep, it grows with every year
A constant condemnation whispering in my ear.

And the shadows lengthen on the pristine page
Another confession in this gilded cage
They built it brick by brick with every fearful word
Now all I ever hear is what I've always heard.

Oh, the weight of it all, a relentless tide
Nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide.
It's a sin, they told me, a sin I can't outrun.
The damage is forever, the battle's never won.


BRICK by BRICK

Streaming

DJ SAUSS - Little By Little (Original Mix)

DJ SAUSS - Guerrino (Original Mix)

Streming

DJ SAUSS - Indeko (Original Mix)

DJ SAUSS - No Title (Original Mix)

Sosa Flow - kkoreaxo + omari

focused on long transitions here and a continuously consistent sound without any excursions to other genres



Sumpfhain I | ~145 bpm

49 years on earth and I'm just getting started. Enjoy the tunes!

01) Love tattoo
02) Mark Farina
03) AmAmStyle
04) Dave Gerrard
05) KAWS
06) Tilman
07) Stacy Kidd
08) Bushwacka!
09) Ron Carrol
10) Samim
11) Chris Barrat
12) Kaskade

„Tanzen“ von ZweiE ist ein treibender Tech-House-Track, der den Moment feiert, in dem niemand mehr nach Hause will. Pulsierende Basslines, hypnotische Synths und subtile Vocals erzeugen einen Sog, der Club und Körper gleichermaßen in Bewegung hält. Der Sound bleibt minimal, aber druckvoll – wie ein nächtlicher Rausch aus Groove, Licht und der simplen Wahrheit: es zählt nur der nächste Takt.

Tanzen

Live  @Soma 01/09/25 1:30am - 2:30am 01/09/25 (Part 2)

Enjoy this excerpt from my Afrohouse set at The Crazy Horse, Nevada City, CA..a beautiful night of music, sharing the stage with Ethno (Thievery Corporation).

Track list:
World House - Morillo
Fatamorgana - Morry
Bonga - Mr. Moudz
Sweet Reminder - MoBlack
Nothing On Me - Maz, APACHE
Culto a la Vida - Alejandro Molinari, Badwolf
Holy Ghost Fire - Thomas Vent, Electrophunk remix
Hot Jazz - Duke Skellington
Isaka (6am) - Ciozas, JAZZWRLD
Dikoima - Backeer, Sofiya Nzau
Billie Jean - Michael Jackson, Dennis Luda
Dirty Bump - Balkan Bump, T-Puse & Dirtwire
Buste - Boohle (MUSEAIC Mashup)
AMS - Mollono Bass 

TransitionS

Bookings only privat! Contact here or follow Instagram or Facebook link 

¡Shpiln di griln tantsn di vantsn!
The emptiness of various Corona lockdowns made Focke the Fockmaster. Musically, he tried out various styles to end up where everything once ended. Techno. 
With classical eight-year music training on the cello, pubescent excursions into New Wave music, everything followed a logic at the end of the 90s. Techno.

¡Shpiln di griln tantsn di vantsn!
Die Leere diverser Corona-Lockdowns machte Focke zum Fockmaster. Musikalisch probierte er sich stilistisch divers aus, um am Ende dorthin zu gelangen, wo alles einst endete. Techno. 
Mit klassischer achtjähriger Musikausbildung am Violoncello, pubertären Ausflügen in die New Wave Musik folgte Ende der 90er Jahre alles einer Logik. Techno.

BRICK by BRICK

FOCKMASTER

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