jupiter

The first written for my upcoming Time Machine EP with similar music to Enigma and Time Machine, the next track I composed after Drift.

Electro Chill Nu Jazz at 76 bpm

An original composition, no AI,  written digitally MIDI to DAW
………………………………
WORDS that I wrote upon listening to a pre-production mix but they don’t necessarily fit the music. Yet.

Oh
Drift away safely with your head up in the clouds
Yeah drift
Where luscious dreams of a beautiful life are allowed 
Encouraging 
Cosmic lullaby 
Rocking gently 
until you sigh

Drift
Later maybe?
No, commit, baby
Drift drift drift drift 
Drift until your mind shifts 

Nothing can steal your moment 
Remember to keep faith 
letting go to drift will show it 
Wise words sayeth 
As you believe — so go with it
That is how to achieve
Drift 
To know it
Drift 
Go with it 
Drift
Let yourself flow 
Safe in the 
Drift
………………………………
76 bpm

DAW Apple Logic Pro X
MIDI Akai Professional Keyboard 
E-INSTRUMENTS 
Concert Grand 
SoCal Ballad Piano 
Ambient Lead
Lunar Chords 
Cinema Strings 
Violas
South African Singers
Deep Round Bass Synth 
Upright Ballad Bass 
E-PERCUSSION 
Roadhouse Kick Shaker 
Hip Hop 90s Kit 
African Kit 
Latin Kit 

COVER ART is original CGI by SUNNYBECK created using the DaVinci app for AI-generated original images and the artist’s CGI designed into a composite in Photoshop.
……..……

ARTIST’S NOTE: 
I composed Drift one afternoon in May when I was literally adrift in disappointment, feeling low, uninspired, and fatigued. Empty. How could I create when I was so low? And a thought rang back answering like a bell  — just show up!

All I had to do, my inner voice told me, was show up, put your fingers on the keyboard for a moment. And I did, using the laptop’s built-in MIDI, selecting a VST called Cinema Strings, instinctively I hit an F6 chord — I have an affinity with the key of F because, as a student, I played French Horn, an F instrument. So I’m pressing the keys, and by a slow count of eight of the metronome’s clicks — bam! The music started playing in my head as if already written. I raced to unravel it in threads of melodies, searching for keys that matched what I was hearing in my mind’s ears.

The lesson for me as an artist is to remember to keep faith despite how I might feel. Because the music is waiting for a humble vessel. Just show up.
.

Drift

ROCK

ENCOUNTER // Meet Yourself ...
@docfritz // All Musical Stuff, Rhythm Design, Cover, Mix & Production
Composed, Arranged & Performed by DOCFRITZ @ OESJ 
© 2025 // All Rights Reserved by OESJ

ENCOUNTER

/ emergency broadcast / emergency broadcast / emergency broadcast /
/
— rollout, transmission, odyssey begins — 

the incoming age of melancholy:
not simply an era nor a season, but the endless twilight borne of every choice and every surrender,
woven from the threads of every generation’s longing—now, at last, unraveling before our eyes.

it begins as a hush—
not even silence, but something deeper:
the collective holding of breath as we pass through threshold after threshold,
unwilling—unable—to look back
at what still burns on the distant altars,
the cost we never counted,
the price we always assumed someone else would pay.

here, the mountains are made not of stone but of unsent messages,
unspoken apologies, unreached hands.
here is the valley of sacrificed afternoons,
where children chase phantoms,
where memory loses its shape under blue electric light,
where elders recall the scent of rain on pages, the music of patience.
here, the rivers are sorrow and the bridges are compromise,
some scorched, some crossed in regret,
most never rebuilt.

who are we, now, on this side of the threshold?
we—the bold, the bruised, the lonely inheritors of immeasurable plenty and exquisite emptiness—
we raise towers in tribute to unseen gods,
wireless cathedrals and temples that promise everything and deliver
only the ache of again, again, again
another update, another offering, another blinking vigil.

in the age of melancholy, every blessing is double-edged.
comfort comes yoked to numbness;
speed, to the erasure of slow becoming;
certainty, to the narrowing of all that is possible
and the slow extinction of wild hope.

“what did you give for this?” asks the old voice inside—
and we hush it with data, with noise,
with things that will never love us back.

our gods are many—everywhere, nowhere—
famous for a season, then discarded,
as fickle as the pulse in a liquid crystal display.
once, gods demanded faith, sacrifice, story and song.
now, they demand only attention—
bring us your tired eyes, your restless mind, your need to be known.
and in return, they give us chains so beautiful,
we praise them as gifts.

but beneath the wafer-thin bounty, the banquet of quick joys—
the shadow:
for every god installed, something sacred is displaced,
every new device arrives with its own silent requirement
that some part of us—ancient, slow, shimmering—must be left behind.

still, we are the ones who choose, trembling though we are—
again and again, at every threshold:
the altar, the new coin of the realm,
purchase paid in what cannot be replaced.

no one warned us that all this ease would cost us ourselves,
that to belong to the gods of now is to mourn what made us human—
the bruises, the breaks, the precious awkwardness of becoming.

what is melancholy, in this thunderous shadow,
if not the noblest form of remembering?
not a sickness, but a wisdom, a refusal to let the soul’s lost countries be overrun
without one last prayer, one last song.

let us be brave enough to mourn,
bold enough for the trembling joy in sorrow—
to sit by the ghost-lit ruins of intimacy and warmth and hope,
and refuse the command to forget.

for in this age, courage lies not in the conquest of new things,
but in the deep humility of honoring what is lost—
the quiet grace of looking back, and bearing witness,
and speaking to the brave few who will listen:

remember—
before the gods of upgrade and speed,
we danced in forests, we bled and healed together,
we built fires for each other’s warmth,
we told stories that did not sell,
and we were not ashamed to love slowly,
to grow bruised and then strong with time.

may we, the humbled .....
........4'000 characters.. there's more to it, sorry....

/ lyrics: fictionalive
/ music: a tiny excerpt of the epic mighty double dutch DJ Set
Kasheme's Local Digger Session w/ Murphy & Cavaliere Spruzzi (Save the Vinyl / monorecords)
https://soundcloud.com/kashemezurich/kashemes-local-digger-session-w-murphy-spruzzi-save-the-vinyl-monorecords

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PLEASE USE HEADPHONES
Hey ! My name is christoph from germany. Make music since over 35 years and i love it. In the beginning i used a tracker software on Commodore Amiga and Atari  ST, pruduced songs for games and demos (Member of AMIGA-Crew flashlight design) . Long time with the Steinberg Cubase sequencer on the way. Since 10 years i use and love Propellerhead Reason, my favorite DAW

jupiter

AFHA