Portland, Oregon-based producer Jade River is back with his latest two-track project ‘Kinetic [Mad Poetic & Maze]’, via Jade River Music/Ground Zero Entertainment PDX.

The two-track project begins with ‘Mad Poetic’ on which Jade spits fire over his own self-produced boom-bap beat and concludes with the Funk/Jazz/Soul-inspired instrumental track ‘Maze’.

Kinetic

Mad Poetic

Introduction in English:
For me it was a big challenge in two ways to do the music to the lyrics of P-Ten, who lives in the Philippines:
First, he is the age of my son, who some of my SC friends know went through a serious crisis in the spring from which he has not really recovered yet. P-Ten obviously has something that my son still lacks at his young age: A belief in himself, in his own dreams and visions. While singing, I kept imagining that P-Ten was speaking to my son like a good friend of the same age, helping him to overcome his tormenting self-doubt. 
Secondly, P-Ten's lyrics also repeatedly mention the belief in God. I don't know P-Ten personally, so I don't know which God he is referring to in his text. 
I myself am not religious or feel to belong to a certain religious community. But, as I have already described it in my song "A Prayer of Hope", there exists for me a kind of "inner God" who goes far beyond me and holds the world together in the innermost; to whom I sometimes turn when my belief in myself falters and self-doubt plagues me. Then I can experience, among other things, in the dialogue with him, that I am not alone, that this inner God believes in me, carries me and holds me, no matter what happens.      

Introduction in German:

Für mich war es in zweierlei Hinsicht eine große Herausforderung, zu dem Text von P-Ten, der auf den Philippinen lebt, die Musik zu machen:
Erstens ist er im Alter meines Sohnes, von dem einige meiner SC-Freunde wissen, dass er im Frühjahr eine schwere Krise durchmachte, von der er sich bis jetzt noch nicht wirklich erholt hat. P-Ten hat offensichtlich etwas, was meinem Sohn in seinem jungen Alter noch fehlt: Der Glaube an sich, an die eigenen Träume und Visionen. Beim Singen habe ich immer wieder vorgestellt, das P-Ten wie ein guter, gleichaltriger Freund zu meinem Sohn spricht und ihm hilft, seine quälenden Selbstzweifel zu überwinden. 
Zweitens kommt in dem Text von P-Ten auch immer wieder der Glaube an Gott vor. Ich kenn P-Ten nicht persönlich und ich weiß entsprechend auch nicht, welchen Gott er in seinem Text meint. 
Ich selbst bin nicht religiös oder fühle mich einer bestimmten Glaubensgemeinschaft zugehörig. Aber, wie ich es schon bei meinem Song "A Prayer of Hope" beschrieben habe, existiert für mich eine Art "innerer Gott", der weit über mich hinausgeht und die Welt im innersten zusammenhält; an den ich mich manchmal wende, wenn mein Glauben an mich ins Wanken gerät und mich Selbstzweifel plagen. Dann kann ich unter anderem in der Zwiesprache mit ihm erfahren, das ich nicht allein bin, dass dieser innere Gott an mich glaubt, mich trägt und hält, egal was passiert.

Dream (P-Ten & Karlit-O-Kay)

Dream (P-Ten & Karlit - O-Kay)

Introduction in English:

Last summer I went wandering in the Black Forest with my oldest friend. After a long day of walking, we stopped at a rather musty inn.   
We were chewing on the overcooked pasta casserole when suddenly the door opened and a young lady entered the inn. With her noble and elegant-delicate appearance she did not fit at all to the stuffy environment.
She sat down together with her family, who hermetically sealed her off, at the next table.
My friend and I immediately had the same association of a "sad beauty". On the outside, she seemed to hold herself together like an extremely well-formed porcelain figure. In her being, however, she seemed deeply lonely, isolated, and almost broken to us.  
For a very brief moment, our eyes met. And in this millisecond-eye gaze into her soul, this chanson was born.  
Since this young woman would have fit more into the Versailles chateau culture of the late 18th century, I sing this chanson in a frail French.

Lyrics in English (for those who don't speak French)

Sad Beauty

You sit there, upright, as if oiled
The hair tamed, strictly gelled

Behind the glazed look,
A shadow falls back
On misfortune

Your face marbled,
Brightly made up, highly decorated
like a disused fairy tale lake
like a nestless animal

You fall - unnoticed
A broken porcelain work of art
An art vase with a deep crack in the bottom

Sad Beauty, Sad Beauty, so sad

Your little daughter sits to your left
Wants your answer, but you are silenced

Your mother feeling is completely drained

Your parents look at you
They can't reach you anymore
Your sister is shaking at your garden gate
Even from your beloved ones you are cut off

You fall - unnoticed
A broken porcelain work of art
An art vase with a deep crack in the bottom
Sad beauty, sad beauty, so sad

Sad Beauty

Introduction in English:

Most recently, after a long time, I was at the "Black Cafe" on Berlin's Kurfürstendamm. And as I sat there, I remembered a scene from my life that was the starting point for the song "Treason:
About 25 years ago I'm sitting one Saturday morning at three o'clock in the Black Cafe. Although I hardly ever drink alcohol, I'm drinking my third glass of vodka to wash down the increasingly painful shock of a triple betrayal: 
My wife betrayed our fidelity alliance because she cheated on me. My best friend betrayed our friendly loyalty because my wife cheated with him. And finally, I betrayed myself by taking poor care of myself and blindly trusting them.
The associated feeling of "nothing is the same as it was before" and "everything that seemed so right now appears wrong, upside down, or in shambles..." I have tried to express with this song.

Treason

Red light turns blue
Discreetly, data is stolen
The upright mountain 
Is in truth a tiny garden gnome

The handshake firm yet shallow
A promise that gives way to crime
A gold bar suspiciously light
Wryly calibrated

The walking stick breaks
A black spider - wanders into the light

Treason
Treason
Tre-e-e-ason

The asphalt is only slightly corrugated
The minister of truth is ordered

A work of art seduces 
Adorned with the signs of lies
A garden squints colourfully
And yet has false teeth in its mouth

A blossoming rose already withered
The topping-out feast with rotten beams
A trumpeter who blows on a comb
Freshly bared

The embraced strangled
The most familiar dies

Treason
Treason
Tre-e-e-ason

The asphalt is only slightly corrugated
The minister of truth orders

Treason

25/02/22 02:00AM
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