All been written
All been said
Inside the onion
Vertical cut – selection made
Adjourned till further notice
Trash is being eradicated
A solitaire is being rolled up
everything’s been sung about
everything’s already happened
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How how how how much longer?
The cut through the charger cable
To be done:
The chest is being swept clean
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
near roses: sing
Everything’s already sung
Everything already thought
The tricks all used up
Printed in blood on wings
and aired in public
In this vein:
terminal moraine
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?
How how how how much longer?
We have always improvised, on the stage, in the past more than now, in the past really only that – in the very distant past.
Later, with the growing inventory of materials and songs, the improvisations grew less, but it always stayed a part of our concerts. In Neubauten language, these improvisa-tions in front of the public were and still are called “Rampen”. “Ramp” in the sense of ramping up.
Many songs which found their way to being released came out of such “Rampen”: “Letztes Biest (am Himmel)” (Halber Mensch) or
„Keine Schönheit (ohne Gefahr)“ (Fünf auf der nach oben offenen Richterskala) as early examples, or „Alles“ (Silence is Sexy), and „Weil Weil Weil“ (Alles wieder off en), they all started that way.
This means: the published versions are not the live performances, for many there wasn’t even a live recording with adequate quality, instead they are the reconstructed in the studio, improved, lyric’d incarnations of those Rampen.
Sometimes we also took Rampen from multiple concerts and reconfigured them together: “Von Wegen” (Alles wieder off en) for example. On the 2022 tour, we switched to playing so-called “supported” Rampen. That is, we agree on a few minimum conditions ahead of the time: who starts? With what? Or: Gesund-brunnen = Ges – – d b – – e (“Ges” = G flat in German). Additionally, I fed my teleprompter with a changing selection of text fragments, mostly only a few lines long, unfinished and leftovers, so I can use them to inspire vocalizations.
After the 2022 tour, during which we had of course played a Rampe at almost every show, we decided to develop these, or the best of them, into an entire album.
From these tour recordings of 23 Rampen, we selected 14 and reworked them piece by piece in the Candy Bomber studio in Berlin, in spring and early summer 2023.
The way we work in the studio is not very different from the Beatles or any other band 60 years ago: we are all in the same room and record the songs together. Sure, there are overdubs and edits, but they are essentially „live“ recordings: take 1, take 2…take 8, take 9 etc. But it usually doesn’t even get to that many takes. We improve, we change, we discard, and at some point we have it. In the end, we finished 15 Rampen, one of which slipped out spontaneously in the studio („Planet Umbra“). A double album: alien pop music.
Blixa Bargeld, Berlin / January 2024
I’ve been to Niagara Falls
I’ve been to both great walls
but it wasn’t there
It wasn’t there
No, it was not there
Ist ist
Ist ist
I’ve been to the end of Europe
I’ve been to the other side
but it wasn’t there
It wasn’t there
No, it was not there
Ist ist
Ist ist
Ist ist
Ist ist
I’m sitting in my chair
Feeling very Pestalozzi
Feeling very A.S. Neill
I wont slave to the recipe
or the picture on the box
I am not a great authority
just give me the missing ingredients
An Easy Nebulizer
A Super Ninja fruit fly trap
A pack of bamboo skewers
anything that isn’t crap
A sack of dead sea salt
A pair of quail egg scissors
and a cellar full of noise
I’ll wash them all together
I just want it
want it all
It could be
that that which seemed so certain just now no longer is
It could be
that that which was solid has now turned liquid
It could be
that it has simply vanished out of sight
It could be
that right behind it, it is going steeply downhill
It could be
that, the way it is lying down there,
it barely can be recognised
It could be
It could be
It could be
It could be
don’t touch!!!
It could be
It could be
It could be
it could be
it could be
that we will get by
even without
will not miss anything
That could be
Before I go
Before I go
Before I go
I collect my necessities
my masks and all the tea
catch remaining sleep
enough of former lives and lies
Before I go
Before I go
all the windows are painted and blind
I switch off the freezer
I switch off the router
I switch off the lights
better I take out the fuses
Before I go
Before I go
I take out the trash and all its letters
I put a cryptic message on the door
I put a cryptic message on the door
Before I Go
Before I Go
Before
Before I go
Before I go
Before I go
Before I go
just before I go
Before I know
Before I know
Before I know
That’s right
That’s right
I see flighty dreams wisping about
I see flighty dreams wisping about
none of them mine
I hope none are yours
previously submerged in swamps
bog bodies as ever
That’s right
That’s right
I see flighty dreams wisping about – in the dark
I see flighty dreams wisping about – unsummoned
That’s right
That’s right
none of them mine
I hope none are yours
fallacies as revenants
once sacrificed to the underworld
sealed inside the bog
skin turned leather
still captive in the noose
cut loose from the peat
in situ
That’s right
That’s right
That’s right
That’s right
I see flighty dreams wisping about
none of them mine
I hope none are yours
Better those thought lost
Those thought long lost
have returned unscathed
with flames on their head
That’s right
That’s right
Your grandstanding chills me
I’m done with managing your tiresome legacy
for what feels like 2000 years
I’ve been chasing your lies
Where am I now?
Me without you
You without me
That is all
Me without you
You without me
Better like that
You planted bugs throughout
my cosmic suite
Yet to your ring-a-ring-o’-roses
I kept dancing far too long
Excelling as amoeba and
übermensch through
to sapiens sapiens
Until in 10 billion years the sun
finally collapses
It’s my turn
It’s my turn It’s my turn
It’s my turn It’s my turn
better off without you
It’s my turn It’s my turn
It’s my turn It’s my turn
without you
up and away
Where am I now?
Me without you
You without me
That is all
Me without you
You without me
Better like that
My old skin is peeled off and draped
in the undergrowth
Kicking my heels
Waited too long, barking up the wrong tree
Inside people seated on their feet silently
immersed in conversation
Where am I now?
A drink of water as I take the curve
Blümerant “bleu mourant”
Forget-me-not cooked in milk
Where am I now?
Where am I now?
With panache
Me without you
You without me
That is all
Me without you
You without me
Better like that
Better like that
The void
The nothingness in the centre
that instantly transmits to my centre
I notice how this nothingness that is not really
nothingness, but an imagined something that’s meant
to represent a centre…
and there’s nothing more for me to do than
stretch my arms out
towards the friendly molecules with the appeal:
here here here here here here! Come here! Keep close
to me! So that you might in some form or another arrive
at a useful new existence.
Here or in the next here or in the here after that,
whatever occasion for that arises
Here
Here
Here
Everything will be fine.
Everything will be fine.
Firebreaks overlaps spontaneous
bombardment
Where else can I go? Or is
this already the end?
I have no side and my horror
has no form
The raven has lost its song:
Nevermore and never mourn
Everything will be fine
Everything, yes, everything
Firebreaks overlaps spontaneous
bombardment
Or is this
Where else can we still go? Or is this
all dead end?
New Zealand is over, that sometimes
sadly happens
The raven has lost its song:
Nevermore and nevermore
Everything will be fine.
Everything will be fine.
Everything will be fine.
blessed are those who believe
It’s time and nothing else but time
I fell into the pit of language
I fell into the pit of language
I fell into the pit of language
I fell into the pit of language
covered in tar and words
I fell into the pit of language
I couldn’t lift myself out
I fell into the pit of language
buried up to my waist
words, syllables and fragments
stammer all around
I fell into the pit of language
I fell very deep
I fell into the tar-hole of
language and I’m sinking
I keep my mouth shut
phonemes, molecules and fossils
all the way up to my neck
I fell into the pit of language
and I couldn’t lift myself out
I fell into the pit of language
[ad lib]
Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
We cast no
shadows on Planet
Umbra
We cast no
shadows on Planet
Umbra Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra and if
it rains if it rains
on Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra deep
down brown rivers in
brown on Planet
Umbra Planet
Umbra
keep your face
down keep your
face
keep your head
down on Planet
Umbra
on Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
so far so far
we cast no shadows
we cast no shadows
on Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
thick brown clouds
sand in your face
they send sand
sand sand sand
in your face
Planet Umbra
on Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
We cast no shadows
on Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
lets get down
Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
Planet Umbra
I wait in the pit of language
before I get tarred and feathered
in a mass vendetta campaign
I wait in the pit of language
before I get tarred and feathered
I try to drag myself out
sing for me in yellow
in the morning
in the kitchen
in the deep winter light
sing for me in yellow
roll your tongue
innocently
into the short cold day
sing me
the invisible verticals
from down here up into the clouds
the feathers are falling out
all that remains is
the ancient song
from the times
well before the market was closed
sing for me in yellow
sing for me in yellow
sing for me in yellow
sing me in yellow that ancient song
from the times
from the times between
sing me the true colour
sing the true colour
sing the true colour
sing the true colour
I’ve been hearing her all day long
she’s coming over the roof
scratching at the windows
escaping behind the books
she doesn’t want to be here
cannot get away from here
until the door opens
until the door opens
into the night
sing for me in yellow
sing for me in yellow
sing me the true colour
sing me the true colour
sing for me in yellow
sing for me in yellow
from the times
from the times
sing for me in yellow
from the times
sing for me in yellow
sing the true colour
from the times
sing for me in yellow
sing the true colour
from the times
sing for me in yellow
sing the true colour
from the times
sing for me in yellow
sing the true colour
from the times
sing for me in yellow
sing the true colour
from the times
sing for me in yellow
sing the true colour
I dunno
I dunno
I dunno
Everything’s shifted
Stuff’s not here and not there either
not yet
I dunno
No idea
what has actually shifted
Stuff is not there any more
where it was
and not yet there where
it’s supposed to be
not yet
not yet
not yet
not yet
not yet
not yet
not yet
not yet
somehow askew
everything’s come undone
What next?
Sometime it’ll be time
it’ll be there
but
not yet
Somewhere mines are hidden
I dig myself in
I dig you out
last exit
small diamonds from grey prehistory
Permian Jurassic Silurian
fossils, as we both are,
trilobites, undivided
ritual:
what still remains?
sluice, pressure drop
pagan recklessness
Molech
And look, it’s being opened up for me, hey!
breathers of light
the undead, harbingers
I tell you most of those here are just sleeping…
just the head poking out
there’s head bounty
at the bottom of things there is a portal
beneath the ocean, between happy
crustaceans
it is still shut
ME / YOU
we carry the heritage of unicellulars, primordials,
pre-primates within us.
where is the key?
snapshutters
dance theatre
ME / YOU, YOU / ME, ME / YOU…
Valence electrons
the outer shell replete
noble gases
non-reactive
ME / YOU…
where is the key?
where is the portal?
ME / YOU…
ME / YOU…
I dig myself in
I dig you out
small diamonds, carbon and high pressure
from colourful prehistory
fossils, as we both are,
undivided
fossils, as we both are,
trilobites
still undivided
ICH / DU…
ICH / DU…
ICH / DU…
ICH / DU…
ICH DU
Patchwork rug, large holes
from its edges gazing into emptiness
far too long at the underside
staring at the underside of the rug
recognising that yearning holds the knots together
so an image can emerge at the topthe biggest holes are intended
poorly crocheted on suspicion
with presumptions only seemingly
seemingly made sustainable
come up here
come over here
stay here
stay further
venture out of the underworld
Let’s correct the picture
newly woven, not newly negotiated
we’re opting out of development
we’re opting out of evolution
forwards backwards in all shades
unthink- and probabilities
we rehearse what is new
fully beyond biology
as diluvian beings
multitudinous beings
multitudinous beings not determined
where once there had been no door
I will now open up for you
where once there had been no door
I will now open up for you
My speech toolset no longer wants me
My speech toolset no longer wants me
pitch black
scorching hot
below pitch black
above blackthorn white