VIA Kosmische home studio is in operation now in Poznań, Poland. We are a Kosmische Musik centered operation. We radiate fantasy and joy. We operate on live instruments. Get in touch @ twilightslastgleamings[at]gmail[dot]com for co-operation.
I haven’t updated this website in ages. There were lots of things happening since I last hit the “write post” button here. I thought I’ll share a new song with you – arranged and produced by Blessed Studio, Indonesia. Enjoy.
Rust swallows sperm
No new kids are born in this town
Old folks perish
Ants collect highways
Cars of the future
Horrible screens of godly direction
Quantity turns into quality
Where we will play an opening concert
Sweet plum capitalism
Handmade hair of gold
Strange voices from behind the ice
“Sing mit Heino”
The most perfect and horrible music
Classical vinyl and forgotten virgins in battle
The sow has come
We will be harvesting the nebulae
No one cares about death and love
They have become a cliché to be swallowed
Are you in for adventures
Asked the system
The answer was “no”
In every possible language
Screens and screams
Good morning pills
Here is your favorite weathergirl
Good night there
So, won’t you watch a fairy tale?
Everything will reset at dawn
Two walls of multi-colored graffiti
Jam session in Arcanoa
Foggy light bulbs yesterday
Someone is collecting the brain from the pan
The Gypsy Wanderer lights up rainbows from a bass guitar painted in swastikas
A silent chorus of sisters of love answers
1960s from forgotten vinyls
I don’t remember where it all started anymore
Overwriting the soul
Every word like a Mayan priest, ready to read the Code of Heaven
Close Tantra ships land, the expedition descends into the jungle lured by dark drums
Each soul has its own rhythm, but mine cannot find itself
It resembles the whips of nebulae, clusters of leather quasars
Can you hear the signals of these worlds somewhere in the magical realm of sleep
Planetary horrors speak, silent orchestras of abandoned Americana
The TV set blows in the lungs
The iron rules of an unfinished life
Every activity dies, so choose the zenith of oblivion
Climb the seaside canvases of teenagers
Draw guitar circles, and if possible, write a cloud diary
Only they care
This planet is rolling through cat’s gravel, and it can’t get any worse
The war reporter spits over his shoulder
A crowd of veterans is gathering
They will never come back from the trip
It all started too long to worry about
All we have is an ant-like section of the park where the god still strolls in the evening breeze writing down masses of colonial aspirations
The machine is burping
Time is up today
“Stoned Gypsy Wanderer” coming to Vinyl with Ramble Records soon!
A.J. Kaufmann: The Stoned Gypsy Wanderer
Poland’s undisputed chief psych-out poet laureate A.J. Kaufmann releases whatever the hell he wants because he’s like the Jandek freak folk psych-master of Poland and he just keeps releasing quality material…more than 100 in 10 years in fact.
A.J. has also released more books of poetry than Rimbaud, Blake and Walt Whitman combined. Imagine having that sort of output and talent? Ramble is over the moon to be releasing the long-lost rarity The Stoned Gypsy Wanderer and let’s hope you are one of the lucky ones to snap it up because it’s destined to become a psych masterpiece.
The Stoned Gypsy Wanderer is two parts Syd Barrett, a smidge of the Butthole Surfers, a cup of Country Joe and the Fish with Chrome at the console. On the words A.J might be channelling André Breton and Baudelaire but his surreal-laded lyrics belong to him and him alone.
Comes with original cover artwork by Justin Jackley (Austin, Texas), complete with lyrics.
“Poznań has a good vibe for experimental music, it’s like Butthole Surfers’ Texas minus heat and deserts.”