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Overdripped Beat

Second part of my father trilogy.
This song is based on a dream I had a good 20 years ago with my father, who had been dead for some time. 
I am in a dimly lit room. It's just me and somehow my father's energy body. At some point, this invisible energy body comes towards me. Then we embrace. It is a merging embrace. Something deep inside me releases and makes me cry. It's not so much a sad cry, but a liberating, soothing cry that pacifies me completely. 
Since this dream, the grudge I harboured against him for a long time has largely disappeared.     
Somehow he has been there inside me since then and I can sometimes visit him (even in dreams) when I want to talk to him.

The arrangement of the song is deliberately minimalist (just vocals, guitar and violin, hardly any effects) in order to emphasise the tremendous intimacy of the encounter between my father and me in the dream described above (there is no longer a "leaf" between us).

My Father  (Lyrics in English)

Would so like to talk to you
Break through the walls to the hereafter
Meet you in a moon cafe
On chairs that stand here and there

You died before the Berlin Wall came down
My son was born on the day you died
Never saw my beautiful wife
Although you had aimed 
For a hundred years of life

You only reached half of it
Life was rarely really easy for you

You were often too close to the stars
Underestimated the danger to your life
Had so many visions
Wanted to live in castles in the air

Then you were all there again
So clairvoyant, wise and clear

Would love to have you with me now
My father, I would love to have you here now 

The dividing wall to you is now open
I haven't met you for so long
You're waiting for me in the moon cafe
I see you in the soft twilight

I want to tell you so many things
What happened after you left
You still wanted to experience it all
Your early death did not grant you that

You were so torn, the demons, they tore at you
You loved the rush, had little sense of yourself

And yet you were in deep distress
My ever-protecting boat
My steadying hand
The lighthouse in my land of chaos

You gave up the shirt off your back
That ultimately cost you your life

Would love to have you with me now
My father, I wish you were here now


Mein Vater (Deutscher Originaltext)

Möchte so gern mit Dir sprechen
Die Mauern zum Jenseits durchbrechen
Dich in einem Mond-Cafe` treffen
Auf Stühlen, die hier und dort stehen

Vor dem (Berliner) Mauerfall bist Du gestorben
An Deinem Todestag wurde mein Sohn geboren
Hast meine schöne Frau niemals erlebt
Dabei hattest Du 
Hundert Jahre Leben angestrebt

Hast grad‘ mal gut die Hälfte davon erreicht
Das Leben war für Dich selten wirklich leicht

Warst oft den Sternen zu nah
Unterschätztest die Lebensgefahr
Hattest so viele Visionen
Wolltest in Luftschlössern wohnen

Dann warst Du wieder ganz da
So hellsichtig, weise und klar

Hätt‘ Dich so gern jetzt bei mir
Mein Vater, hätt‘ Dich jetzt gern hier 

Die Trennwand zu Dir steht jetzt offen
So lange hab‘ ich Dich nicht getroffen
Du wartest im Mond-Cafe‘ auf mich
Ich seh‘ Dich im zarten Dämmerlicht

Ich will Dir so vieles erzählen
Was so geschah nach Deinem Fortgehen
Du wolltest das alles noch erleben
Dein früher Tod hat Dir das nicht vergönnt

Warst so zerrissen, die Dämonen, sie zerrten an Dir
Liebtest den Rausch, hattest für Dich wenig Feingespür

Und dennoch warst Du in tiefer Not
Mein stets mich schützendes Boot
Meine mir haltgebende Hand
Der Leuchtturm in meinem Chaos-Land

Hast Dein letztes Hemd hergegeben
Das kostete Dich letztlich Dein Leben

Hätt‘ Dich so gern jetzt bei mir
Mein Vater, hätt‘ Dich jetzt gern hier

Mein Vater (My Father)

Too Much NEW

Third part of my father trilogy.
The father trilogy ends with my naïve and youthful attempt, at the age of 23, to break away from my father, who seemed overpowering at the time, and stand on my own two feet: 
To move as far away as possible from my provincial hometown, to throw myself into a Berlin that was completely foreign to me at the time and completely overwhelming. 
My saviour at the time was my oldest friend, who had already been living in Berlin for a few years and took me under his wing like a big brother.     
But even with his help, I soon had to realise that the attempt at a radical inner "patricide" could not succeed in any way. The early imprints he had left on me, the demons I had 'inherited' from him, were all still there. No matter how much I turned my outer life upside down, there was no escape from the central patterns and beliefs that I had learnt from my father in the first 10 years of my life.
In this respect, the song title "The Singular Man" is a "Mission Impossible". It was only three years later, and especially after his early death, that I realised more and more that a lifelong confrontation with my inner father images could lead to a closely linked dialectic:
An ever deeper and visibly more reconciliatory bond with my father and, at the same time, an ever-increasing self-realisation    
 
The Singular Man  (Lyrics in English)

Run through streets crooked and skewed 
The bridges criss-cross

All around me the stink of the city
An army of people everywhere

Turn in somewhere now
Fall in at your door

You are alone
Your corridor infinitely long
Your walls high and wide 
Your front door broad and welcoming

You push me through the corridor now 
At the windows the siren-
song

I get scared and bang 
Am I still
Your catch of fish
Your silhouette
That only plays at being free

And yet I have escaped you 
Escaped!

I take off all hinges
Hang out the windows
Make me a magic wand
Grey Berlin becomes a colourful bouquet for me 

Ride on a peacock wheel
Take a foam spring bath in the Spree

All light 
Time thrown into the air

Pain-free in a glittering dress
An ecstatic feeling of life

But something pushes back
Under the carpet lies the hanging rope
The spider's web is
Still there
The old danger

I only know about her now 
Keep me out of her more 

Oh man, the singular man
Man Oh man, the singular man
Man Oh man, the singular man
Man Oh man, the singular man


Der Singuläre Mann (Deutscher Originaltext)

Lauf’ durch Straßen krumm und schief, 
Die Brücken kreuz und quer

Um mich herum der Großstadtmief
Überall ein Menschen-Heer

Bieg' irgendwo jetzt ein
Fall’ bei Dir zur Tür herein

Du bist allein
Dein  Flur unendlich lang
Deine Wände hoch und weit 
Deine Eingangstür willkommens-breit

Schiebst mich jetzt durch den Gang 
An den Fenstern der Sirenen-
Gesang

Mir wird Angst und Bang 
Bin ich immer noch
Dein Fischfang
Dein Schattenbild
Das das Freisein nur spielt

Und doch bin ich Dir entflohen 
Entflohen!

Lege alle Scharniere ab
Häng' die Fenster aus
Bastle mir einen Zauberstab
Grau-Berlin wird mir zum bunten Strauß 

Fahr auf nem‘ Pfauenrad
Nehm‘ in der Spree ein Schaum-Frühlingsbad

Alles leicht 
In die Luft geworfene Zeit

Schmerzbefreit im Glitzerkleid
Ein rauschhaftes Lebensgefühl

Doch etwas drängt zurück
Unterm Teppich liegt der Häng‘-Dich-Strick
Das Spinnennetz ist
Immer noch da
Die alte Gefahr

Kenn‘ mich jetzt nur mit ihr aus 
Halt mich mehr aus ihr raus 

Oh Mann, der Singuläre Mann
Mann Oh Mann, der Singuläre Mann
Mann Oh Mann, der Singuläre Mann
Mann Oh Mann, der Singuläre Mann

Der Singulare Mann (The Singular Man)

Der Singuläre Mann (The Singular Man)

So many causes for distance
Yet so many reasons for Getting Closer

Please leave me a comment for the hard work and tell me what you like!

Thank you T&P @https://soundcloud.com/19378 for the inspiration, support and spark for this song!

Getting Closer

Bandcamp

Introduction in English

Many of them were persecuted, oppressed, tortured or even murdered. 
But many of them escaped their perpetrators and potential butchers and emerged even stronger from these struggles for survival. 
And especially at a time when the tyrannical powers are raising their heads again, when a repressive right-wing shift is taking place all over the world, they are more important than ever;
In their unmistakable clarity, their healthy stubbornness, their intuitive knowledge to protect the all-encompassing love and vitality in the world from the destructive forces of fascist systems.
With my song I want to encourage all free spirits to show themselves even more and to go forward. And I want to encourage all listeners of this song to open up more to their own free-spirited side.

Lyrics (for those, who don`t speak German)

Free spirits

They never let themselves be bent
Never let any repression get them down

They have a keen sense
For what is real or just false adornment

They follow their own tracks
They tick according to their own clocks

They are with themselves and yet open-minded
They change and remain true to themselves

Often stand on their head
Don't like to swim with

Every ancient braid
Is sprayed with color
Until it burns out

Free spirits
Are still 
In this land

Free spirits
Not all 
Have they
Banished, Burnt

Free spirits
Have 
Survived the hells
And lay down in the light unbreakable

They dream with their eyes open
Make a thousand mistakes, seem to be no good

Are often still unrecognized, banished from the grill plate
Yet they sparkle beneath the sand  

They are often underestimated
Violated in their dignity
Abandoned in the forest by the mainstream
They wear orchids 
Can see in the dark
Can walk blind on clouds

Are outraged alive
Say out loud what bothers them

Are driven by love
For themselves, the humans and the world

Free spirits
Are still 
In this land

Free spirits
Not all 
Have they
Banished, Burnt

Free spirits
Have 
Survived the hells
And lay down in the light unbreakable
lay down in the light
lay down in the light
Lay
Down
In
The 
Lieght

Deutscher Originaltext:

Freigeister

Sie lassen sich niemals verbiegen
Von keiner Repression unterkriegen

Sie haben ein feines Gespür
Für das was echt ist oder nur falsche Zier

Sie folgen Ihren eigenen Spuren
Sie ticken nach Ihren eigenen Uhren

Sie sind bei sich und doch aufgeschlossen
Sie wandeln sich und bleiben sich treu

Stehen oft auf dem Kopf
Schwimmen ungerne mit

Jeder uralte Zopf
Wird mit Farbe besprüht
Bis er verglüht

Freigeister
Sind noch immer 
In diesem Land

Freigeister
Nicht alle 
Haben sie
Verbannt, Verbrannt

Freigeister
Haben 
Die Hölllen überlebt
Und sich unkaputtbar in das Licht gelegt

Sie träumen mit offenen Augen
Machen tausend Fehler, scheinen nichts zu taugen

Werden oft noch verkannt, vom Grillteller verbannt
Dennoch funkeln sie unter dem Sand  

Gerne werden sie unterschätzt
In ihrer Würde verletzt
Vom Mainstream im Wald ausgesetzt
Sie tragen Orchideen 
Können im Dunkeln sehen
Können auf Wolken blind gehen

Sind lebendig empört
Sagen laut, was sie stört

Sind von Liebe getrieben
Für sich, die Menschheit und die Welt

Freigeister
Sind noch immer 
In diesem Land

Freigeister
Nicht alle 
Haben sie
Verbannt, Verbrannt

Freigeister
Haben 
Die Hölllen überlebt
Und sich unkaputtbar in das Licht gelegt
In das Licht gelegt
In das Licht gelegt
In 
Das
Licht
Gelegt

Freigeister (Free Spirits)

Introduction in English:
For many, November is the worst month. I particularly like it because it is the month that best expresses the Buddhist mantra of "And the end is the beginning". In November, almost all the trees are bare and most plants have faded. But in this "destruction" lies the seed of new life. 
November is the month that most clearly demonstrates that we sometimes have to radically let go of beliefs and attitudes that no longer help us move forward so that we can reposition ourselves and continue to develop.
And this month also makes it clear that we must fully accept dying and death as facts in order to keep the flywheel of life, which goes far beyond us, running. 
At the age of 60, I am still in the "October of life". However, October is already knocking strongly on the door of the unstoppable transformation processes that reach their climax in November. 
The song "Autumn is here" summarises these thoughts in the form of a French chanson. I chose this form because, in my view, the French language and the genre of the chanson come closest to the basic existential themes of life.

Lyrics in English (For those, who don’t speak French)

Autumn is here

Everything falls, nothing holds
Nothing stands, it's already late
The green turns gray, the weather wet and rough
The flock of birds moves away into the warm blue

This morning I was full of energy
Tonight I'm tired
My garden of life will soon be withered
One little spark still glows
That still drives me and pulls me forward 

Autumn is here
The gray hair
Lies damp in the drain sieve

Autumn is here
The cataract
looks at me in the mirror

The fields are bare
The faces pale
The tree trunk breaks
In the middle of the poem

The clock runs down
The meadow lies fallow

The car groans
The eye runs and tears

The children look pityingly
The morning sun grins
Nothing you can gain 
Gain
The raven peeks
Around the corner, nods at you

Französischer Originaltext:

L'automne est là

Oui, tout tombe
Rien qui tienne
Il n'y a plus rien
C'est déjà tard

Le vert devient gris
Le temps humide et rude
La nuée d'oiseaux 
S'en va vers le bleu chaud

Ce matin, j'étais à fond
Ce soir, je suis fatigué
Le jardin de ma vie 
va bientôt se faner

Une dernière étincelle brille
qui me pousse et m'entraîne en avant

L'automne est là
Les cheveux gris
Se trouve dans le siphon

L'automne est là
La cataracte se rapproche
Me regarde dans le miroir
L'automne est là

Les champs sont nus
Les visages sont pâles
Le billot se brise
Au cœur du récit

L'horloge retarde
Le fond du pré est en friche
La voiture gémit
Les yeux sont pleins de pus

Les enfants regardent avec pitié
Le soleil matinal se moque de toi
Il n'y a rien d'autre que tu puisses gagner
Le corbeau regarde 
Au coin et il te fait un signe de tête

L'automne est la (Autumn is here)

Euphoric Touchdown

Touchdown Wait

Recorded in Modesto, Ca.  Featuring Hammond B3 Electric Organ solo. Flute solo. Vibraphone solo. Acoustic Stand-up Bass. Gibson L5 Electric Guitar Rhythm. Hammond B3 Electric Organ with Bass Paddles. Drums Acoustic Full Kit Set. Percussion Chimes Tree, 22" Ride & Swing Cymbal. 

Lighthouse Years

Jimmy's Place

Follow your mood. Nothing is impossible. You are there.

Mind Mouth

Spacesound Transfer

Music is life.
Music is life, now I’m a songwriter, composer and singer. That’s my life. I feel music when I start my day, I feel music riding my bike, I feel music when I’m on my way.

Touchdown Wait

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