Melodic Mumblings. A rough version of a new song on my upcoming album, "Lullabies". Enjoy... Composed and Produced

Melodic Mumblings

Get The Funk Out Ma Face Vol. 1

Free Download

mAke mE !!'/// (Mudlark^ in deep cut) free download

Ithaca is a significant location in Greek mythology, primarily known as the home of Odysseus, the hero of Homer's epic poem, the "Odyssey."
As much Ithaca symbolizes the ultimate goal of Odysseus' journey and represents themes of loyalty, perseverance, and the longing for home, that much this track represents journey to the listeners, journey to their hearts and ears. This journey was not easy but it was worth it. Join us in celebration of Homecoming

Ithaca

Feeling Free

Fading Ink

Living Wrong

miss me wrong

is a full-throttle dancefloor drum & bass weapon made for peak-time chaos. Relentless drums, heavy bass pressure and an angelic vocal lift collide to create pure hands-up energy,  built for dark rooms, sweaty crowds and massive system moments.

ERIO - Catch the Beat

rinse & repeat (intro)

"I Remember the Long Summer Days" is a folk/noir ballad drawing on the storytelling depth of 1940s chanson and the raw edge of dark folk. Created as a sonic companion to a pivotal literary scene, the song captures a final peaceful walk through snow-covered fields before an impending escape—a moment of quiet intimacy between father and daughter, suspended between memory and farewell.
With its smoky baritone vocals, fingerpicked guitar, cello, and distant accordion, the track balances melancholy and solace, weaving the warmth of past summers into the cold certainty of departure. This piece is part of the transmedia project "Hinter uns das Land" (biographical novel + music), exploring themes of loss, family, and resilience in times of upheaval.

---

I Remember the Long Summer Days" ist eine folk/noir-Ballade, die musikalisch Anklänge an die erzählerische Tiefe der 1940er-Jahre-Chansons und den rauen Charme des Dark Folk aufgreift. Das Lied entstand als Klangbild zu einer literarischen Szene: Ein letzter friedlicher Spaziergang über verschneite Felder, kurz vor der Flucht – ein Moment der Stille und Innigkeit zwischen Vater und Tochter, der Erinnerung und Abschied in sich trägt.
Die rauchige Bariton-Stimme, begleitet von fingergezupfter Gitarre, Cello und einem fernen Akkordeon, schafft eine Atmosphäre zwischen Melancholie und Trost. Inspiriert von der Stille vor dem Aufbruch, verbindet der Track die Wärme vergangener Sommertage mit der Kälte des Winters – und der Gewissheit, dass manche Orte bald nur noch Erinnerung sein werden.
Diese Aufnahme ist Teil des transmedialen Projekts "Hinter uns das Land" (biografischer Roman + Musik), das Geschichten von Verlust, Familie und Widerstand in einer Zeit des Umbruchs erzählt. 


lyrics:

The air is icy, and the sun hangs like a pale smudge in the sky. The snow-covered meadow lies silent and still beneath a gray veil. A light wind whistles through the bare branches of the ancient oaks, carrying the scent of frost and burnt wood.

Inge walks with her father across the meadow. His steps are strong and steady, but his face is shadowed by a heavy weight of sadness.
"Do you see the peat cut over there, Inge?" he asks, pointing with a slender finger to a dark gap in the white expanse. "That’s where we used to warm our feet."
Inge nods. She remembers the warm ash filling the air, the strong smell of burning peat, the heavy sacks they carried together. It was hard work, but it was also a time of togetherness and joy.

They continue through the deep snow of the forest. The trees stand like giant guardians around them, their branches laden with thick blankets of snow, appearing as silver ghosts in the faint light.

Inge feels the cold in her fingers. It is a bitter winter, but in her heart, a warm fire of memory burns.
"I remember the long summer days in the forest, Father," she says, looking into his eyes. "The happy picnics with the family, the little berries we picked, the long walks through the woods."
Her father smiles softly. "Yes, Inge," he says. "Those were beautiful times. But time moves on, Inge. And we must go with it."

They stand on a small hill. The view stretches far over the estate. The houses lie quiet in the snow. Smoke from the chimneys rises slowly into the cold air.
Inge feels a heavy lump in her throat. She knows this is her last walk across the estate. Soon, it will be only a memory.
"I will never forget you, Father," she says, her voice quiet and sad.
Her father puts his arm around her. "Nor will I ever forget you, Inge," he says, holding her close. "You are my little girl. And you will always remain in my heart.


Melodic Mumblings

wzer