"Yellow Pharaohs" (New poem, 2022/06/27).

before you were born
there were many stories
women
pubs
deaths

there were heroes
basking in the lizard-like moon-gravity
dust boots
fairies
of control-rooms
dwarfs and giants of methodical grief

at the on ocean
sun heat brick on shallow water
drink dew drops for amethyst
there are colors
cold-blooded
prisms
of acid headquarters

they
color the aura yellow
aura sun heat shallow
there are pharaohs in the garden
their space-flying mouths
glass office
answers

from the off sunrise
they laugh with flowered laughter
combine eastern gardens
with night-flying dead-white ironic
shelter-walls
say, hey, there's
warships on Washington
where
passengers became professors
but writers returned their seed

there are pharaohs in the heat
sun dawns the way
way up to the colors of their aura

queer mirrors
yellow, sacred yellow
pastel
and yearning

"Mechanical World" (2003).

I got cords and wires worming my navel with you
You’re my diode mistress, the only thing that’s true
You teach me precision, perfection and good velocity
You say you would kill yourself if you were me

I’m so useless, you say
And you won’t teach me nothing more
I’m so useless, you say
You cannot shape me at all

The mystic days of warriors’ saga sadly disappear
No more barbarian electric rebels who fight and know no fear
In days of ancient past they fought with god machines to win
Rode the dawn on silver stallions with bow and lance and wings

Now we all got cords and wires, feelings are restricted
A rebellion in the air, machines can be defeated
So I call upon the holy name of Mother Universe
Raise my lance, prepare my stallion, here’s our final chance

We ride at the speed of light into the monster jaws
Cut its wires till it bleeds and scratch its wounds with our claws
I’ll teach you pride and strength and fury, death of your control
And upon your broken parts I’ll spread my barbaric roar

You’re so useless, I say
And I won’t teach you anything more
You’re so useless, I say
Laying wireless on the crystal floor

Gothic Mirrors, Drinking Coffee (Early in the Morning) - 2003.

An endless hall of Gothic mirrors
On a  floor of shady pearls
In these mirrors Gothic sculptures
Seems they’re almost everywhere

I don’t know why I like this word so much
So much
It means more and more to me as I'm starting
From scratch

An endless hall of Gothic mirrors
In walls of translucent marbles
Melting into one big mess
Chaos and disorder

Came to my thoughts while drinking coffee
And smoking a cigarette
Early in the morning
And then I popped a tablet

Was it something, was it nothing
Now I can hardly tell
And maybe the visions aren’t quite right
I’m sure they’re wrongly spelled

Audible concrete something different
Bring me back the time
A kid in school, a poet and a fool
Committing minute crimes

This hall is something to remember
It's not something to regret
This hall burnt a hole upon my brain
It’ll be so hard to forget

"Four Wicked Winds" (2003).

There’s spoil and ruin everywhere
And all the people act like nobody cares
Maybe they can’t see it, maybe they’re all blind
But peace and freedom today is so hard to find

There are many wicked people living right next door
Wonder what kind of terror they could have in store
Money is the king and weapons are his queen
War brings profits, and I hope you know what I mean

There’s apathy growing on every street
Or glazing with hatred at the men you see
Jealousy and falsehood, enslavement and crime
Like four winds blowing thru the world of these times

Four wicked winds
Blowing all around
Four wicked winds
In each and every town

There’s been trouble all around since I hardly remember
Many men taught to fight, but even more to surrender
The weight of the world entirely on your back
And nobody helps you while you march your weary track

So carry your cross to the Neon Golgotha, man
Billions waiting for the show, so do the best you can
A live transmission on every possible channel
Suffering sells best and it's exactly what they wanted

Four wicked winds
Blowing all around
Four wicked winds
Blew down your crown

Ride your motorbike to the very highway’s end
Where neon jungle turns to green and unpolluted land
Climb the tower or a hill to see the mutilated city
Concrete monster is gone, what a shame, what a pity

Four wicked winds
Blowing all around
Four wicked winds
Blew down your town

"Burning Up" (2003).

The sun burns up the winter sky
But snow lies all around
Begins to shine like tiny diamonds
Stretched all over frozen ground

Reflects your face
Your wondrous face
Burning up in my chimney
Hoping that you can feel me
Heal me

Let the snow melt
Burning up is the sky
Hoping that you’d get by
Make me feel the way I felt
When the snow did melt

Rushing Madness Thru The Stars (2002/11/13).

Rushing Madness Thru The Stars

1 - The Bliss and The Law
Mountainsides are filled with fire
But nothing burns at all
Among the heavy rocking curtains
The Gods spread wide their call

The few who hear it rush along
Thru forests, lakes and seas
With full awareness of their blindness
They wait for divine bliss

To see the ways of universe
To understand the law
Which is not war, destruction, hate
But creation, peace and love

2 - We Are
We are the warriors
We are the hunters
We are the darkness
We are the brightness
We are our fathers
We are our mothers
We are our sisters
We are our brothers
We are one and everyone
We are moon we are sun
We are peace and we are war
We are after, we were before
We are fire we are water
We are earth we are sky
We’re impersonal, immortal
We’re the fact that’ll never die
We’re the servants of Divine Mother
As we travel thru vast clear space
We are truly born of stars
We’re the saviors of the human race
We are speed we are light
We are void we are night
And as our solar engines choke
We turn to glass, we turn to smoke

3 - The Divine Bird
A divine thought in metal corpse
Got no wings but it can fly
The roaring voice repeating “more!”
As counter reaches pale blue skies

White heavy thunder, god-like blaze
Earth is crumbling at its seams
The roaring light cries nevermore
As Holy Watcher blanks all the screens

4 - Space Chant
The beginning and the end
Once destruction, now creation
Numb and still, it does not feel
Yet it’s pure imagination
Just a thought of ancient lords
It ain’t nothing more but void
Not a person, not a soul
Living being yet it’s dead
No expression, no permission
Standing still but how it spreads
Just a thought of ancient lords
It ain’t nothing more but void
Rushing madness thru the stars
On heavy metal polished wings
Vibes and sounds of roaring freedom
Roaring wild and roaring free
Just a manifest of lords
You ain’t nothing more but void

5 - Die To Try To Fly
Dust of stars they say you are
That’s the reason why you stare
At cloudless skies each single night
You’d like to fly but you wouldn’t dare
Well I was born an Astral Flyer
You see me nearly every night
I’m the shadows you’re afraid of
I’m the twilight’s flashing lights
Travel thru the universe
I’m unborn and Barrel Style
When you see me passing by
Stop and see just for a while
You can do it if you try
No matter what they say
Break the shell undo the chains
And glide thru starry ways

Tall Yodas - Neck of Guilotine (Official Video)

Space Shaman - See the End

4 poems (February 2022).

Ja i Yuri Morozov - Me and Yuri Morozov

Zima była twarda
ktoś przyświecał księżycem w bagna dźwięku
ktoś inny dłubał przy magnetofonie szpulowym
ktoś jeszcze inny uważał, że produkuje nasze sesje

wtedy spotkałem Yurija
wplecionego w śnieg kablem mikrofonowym
śpiewał piosenki Beatlesów
i za nic miał twardość poranka

siedział jak jogin tęczy i blasku, otaczał mnie aurą pokoju
złudne wrażenia obecności
dźwięk jak ulotne fatum
krążył ponad naszymi głowami

był to dzień, czy noc, nieważne
księżyc i słońce w tańcu sprawczym
dwie godziny snu w masce durowych tonacji
musimy skończyć z tymi Beatlesami, powiedział
i odnaleźć własny, słowiański pop art

Yuri był wielkim artystą
ja tylko przewijam jego taśmy
i gdzieś tam widzę fragmenty
słyszę inne czcionki
wiem, że unikatem jego istnienia był dźwięk

dźwięk w najczystszej postaci

***

The winter was tough
someone was shining the moon in the swamp of sound
someone else was tinkering with a reel-to-reel tape recorder
someone else thought he was producing our sessions

then I met Yuri
woven into the snow with a microphone cable
he sang Beatles songs
and the hardness of the morning was for nothing

he sat like a yogi of rainbow and light, he surrounded me with an aura of peace
illusory impressions of presence
sound like a fleeting doom
circled over our heads

it was day or night, whatever
the moon and the sun in a motion dance
two hours of sleep in a major key mask
we have to finish these Beatles, he said
and find our own Slavic pop art

Yuri was a great artist
I'm just rewinding his tapes
and I see fragments out there somewhere
I can hear other fonts
I know that sound was unique in its existence

sound in its purest form

Sponad Atlantydy - Over Atlantis

Odkleiłem się tak bardzo
w fotografiach modowych z lat 60-tych
kwaśnej gitarze Hendrixa
i wołaniu miłości przez wieczną pustynię ludzkości

że zapomniałem, skąd jestem
i wiatr zawył ostatni raz, a jego ruch zabrał mnie powyżej
hałas istnienia zgasł
jak papieros bogów

było już późno, ostatnie światła gasły w ostatnich knajpach
ostatni pijacy czcili gołębi świt
w kałuży odbijał się Budda
on, albo mój brzuch

i sponad Atlantydy
wystartowały ostatnie bombowce
ostatni piloci przesłaniali oczy ze zdumienia
rosą lotosu

nikt nie chciał wojny, ale zawsze jakaś się toczyła
dopóki boginie oceanu nie zawołały "dość" ponad pustynią
i to "dość" znaczyło naprawdę koniec

ile jeszcze razy obudzę się w koszmarze
zanim wyzwolą mnie motyle?

***

I got so detached so much
in fashion photos from the 60's
Hendrix's acid guitar
and the cry of love through the eternal desert of mankind

that I forgot where I am from
and the wind howled one last time and its movement took me above
the noise of existence went out
like the cigarette of the gods

it was already late, the last lights were going out in the last bars
the last drunkards worshiped the dawn pigeons
the Buddha reflected in the puddle
him or my belly

and over Atlantis
the last bombers took off
the last pilots shaded their eyes in amazement
the dew of the lotus

no one wanted a war, but there was always one
until the goddesses of the ocean cried "enough" over the desert
and that "enough" really meant the end

how many more times will I wake up in a nightmare
before the butterflies set me free?

Zielona Fala - Green Wave

zielona fala
ciche płomienie Gandzi
stare promienie trzeciego oka
odejście w manewry snu
bezdenne meduzy na plaży
patrzą w cichego człowieka
zagubionego w tłumaczeniach wakacji
spod parasola spadochron
cennego rękodzieła
gubi się pod zeppelinowym niebem Berlina
ale ono zewsząd odbija morze
jak fluxus kieruje go w dom
ślimacze wędrówki fali
między piwem a skrętem
święta piczka Gandzi
zakręca poza miasto
ucieczka z granic ludzkości
spadochroniarka jestestwa
zgrabnie przeżuwa id
aż ani jedno słowo nie zakłóca
czerwcowych obligacji
światłocień Grety Garbo
w jej trzecim oku
kieruje nas w prastary Tybet
mistyczne słowa-klucze
rybie fontanny zbawienia
skapujące pomału z nieba
rysują niepewną dłonią
zieloną falę, o której było na początku
i będzie też na końcu
gdy każdy poważny wiersz
wstydzi się być mną
gdy zasypia

***

green wave
the silent flames of Ganja
the old rays of the third eye
departure into sleep maneuvers
bottomless jellyfish on the beach
they look at the silent man
lost in holiday translations
a parachute from under an umbrella
precious handicrafts
gets lost under the zeppelin skies of Berlin
but it reflects the sea everywhere
how fluxus drives him home
the snails wandering the wave
between the beer and the twist
Ganja's holy muff
turns out of town
escape from the frontiers of humanity
self paratrooper
neatly chews id
until not a single word disturbs
June bonds
Chiaroscuro by Greta Garbo
in her third eye
leads us to ancient Tibet
mystical keywords
fish fountains of salvation
dripping slowly from the sky
they draw with an uncertain hand
the green wave it was about at the beginning
and it will also be at the end
when any serious poem
ashamed to be me
when he falls asleep

UFO

aneks złotoustej purpury
ktoś gra prosty punkowy riff
moja babcia przyrządza kotlety
każdy gówniarz z osiedla je uwielbia
niektórzy nie mają już babć
są więc zarozumiale zazdrośni
ale w ciszy piją kompot
wyobrażając sobie, że podszyto go LSD
ja czytam książkę Danikena
starożytne UFO ląduje na antenie bloku
"wpadliśmy na kotlety" - mówi kapitan
jego hełm przerzedza brzask
w załodze ma same nordyckie blondynki
odliczam godziny do startu
gapiąc się na ich tyłki
dzień będzie długi
niczym UFO-rozgwiazda
o którym nie powiedzą nic
w dzisiejszym dzienniku
babcia zwinie kotlety
i kosmitki odlecą
gdzieś w Aldebarana
zostawiając blok w bagnie
w które w końcu się zapadnie
gdy nadejdzie czas wszystkich sąsiadów
to było piękne UFO
westchnie żydowski skryba
i zapisze rok 2000
jako datę pierwszego spotkania
ale oni byli już nad Tunguską
ratując nas przed zagładą
albo tak przynajmniej twierdzi
Pan Witek

***

appendix of golden-mouthed purple
someone's playing a simple punk riff
my grandmother makes chops
every shit from the neighborhood loves them
some don't have grandmothers anymore
so they are conceitedly jealous
but they drink compote in silence
imagining that it was lined with LSD
I am reading Daniken's book
ancient UFO lands on the block's antenna
"we ran into the chops," says the captain
his helmet thins the dawn
the crew has only Nordic blondes
I'm counting down the hours to take off
staring at their asses
the day will be long
like a starfish UFO
about which they won't say anything
in today's journal
grandma will roll up the chops
and the aliens will fly away
somewhere in Aldebaran
leaving the block in the swamp
into which it will eventually collapse
when the time comes for all the neighbors
it was a beautiful UFO
the Jewish scribe will sigh
and will record the year 2000
as the date of the first meeting
but they were already on the Tunguska
saving us from extinction
or so he says
Mr. Witek

"Written Word" (January 2003) - translated from Polish.

Nine ice cubes on a wooden table
In the vast shade of the winter sun
Crystal ashtrays and empty brown bottles
Inactivity
The chair gives way under my weight
I don't know if I weigh
The armchair knows (more than I do, I assure you)
Non-existence
The empty space of my skull
Echo in the tunnel, echo of emptiness in absolute emptiness
An echo of emptiness among rocky cold walls
Unreal spaces filled with the echo of emptiness
Imagine the echo of emptiness
Imagine a mirror meeting a mirror
What do these mirrors see?

Imagine nothingness
Imagine glass and smoke rings
Black, impenetrable stone circles
Imagine the landscapes of nothingness
Senseless thoughts and images from distant times
Songs of the Lost Bards
Madmen, geniuses, refugees
Imagine their mind creating better worlds
Turned into a nightmare, filled with echoes of emptiness
Imagine the endless regret and melancholy of the morning
Imagine their eyes - their expression
Ice cubes, needles, cellophane - whatever...
And imagine the hunger...
A cynical, decadent, serpent mind that was once beautiful
Imagine the day of creation - then the sound barriers
Immaculate vibrations of destruction
Imagine nothingness, imagine its bards
Imagine eternal winter burning your mind and soul
Ivy in your veins...
Free...
Empty...

The void is unborn
The void does not pass away
When you know emptiness
You will not be different from her
I want to know the void

I am the human obscene...

Tall Yodas plays Domino Lo Nogic

Tall Yodas are:

Kräuter Yoda - Adam J. Kaufmann: bass guitar, vocal
Yoda in Dub - Hugo Kowicki: drums
Surf Yodler - Patryk Lichota: guitar, electronics, recording and mix

music by Tall Yodas
camera - Leszek Garstka
edit - Patryk Lichota

The three Yodas from the high castle hide in the basement and combine various musical substances to form a thick and psychoactive substance. Bits of voodoo recipes and spells reveal ingredients such as krautrock, surf music, dub, drum'n'bass, cabaret, punk, gothic, everything-billy and no-wave. The first months of operation of this (un) harmonious company brought an artifact in the form of the album "Tall Music for High People". The group acts as a power trio and claims that they can play absolutely anything with three people. May the power of watts be with you!

http://tallyodas.bandcamp.com

"Terrorists of Vision" (New poem, 2022/06/11).

The first trace you leave on your tape
is also the last trace of
a psychedelic mourning
for the children of '68
in East Bloc countries
flashing their amplifiers
at the omnipresent plastic draw of death
in sheer summer clouds
honking

there is a law
the old guy says
while the young one shoots his guitar gun
without any warning
diminishing into the canvas
on which our mutual lives
evolve tribally
and there is no sense of time
space is forever
vibrating like the once-oceans of Mars

two voices entwined into one bass magma
shake the founds of age
splinters of the tape
bass and electric guitar
shaky teen voice
got nothing to sound good
but a lot to say
about
the blocks
in the high rise sunrise

of heavy July sun
dreaming
on my way from high school
I encounter the singer
the amethyst of her zodiac sign
heavy metal radio hit
a rugged cocktail poured down the conquistador's throat
induction of vermin ephemeris
and yes, she is perfect
but no one will admit it

maybe there is a way out of here
I think to myself
maybe it hides in the continuous drum of mourning
steer organ of dawn
drumming of the madman in the chapel
along Blake
and other “terrorists of vision”

"Psychedelic Moon" / "Exploding Lightbulbs" - 2 new tracks...

"Psychedelic Moon" is almost a cover song - the original "Psychedelic Moon" can be heard on "Psychedelic Moods" by the legendary Deep. I am lucky enough to have an autographed photo of Rusty Evans in the Via Kosmische home studio. Rusty was working on his Ring of Fire Johnny Cash-tribute band at the time he signed the picture for me. I am grateful to Bill Shute of Kendra Steiner Editions for sending the photo along from Texas. The Deep are probably the first band to ever call their music "psychedelic", so I was going for a "proto"-feel in my rendition of "Psychedelic Moon". I got rid of the additional melody than can be heard on the original, and also wrote my own lyrics, of course inspired heavily by what I thought I've heard on the recording. And a day after I recorded this number, I cut another psych track, this time with the harmonium as a tribute to Nico, and referencing Jimi Hendrix in the lyrics. This track is called "Exploding Lightbulbs" and is about finding happiness in a psychedelic world, also falling from one illusion into another, and the very heart of the "psychedelic experience". I think those 2 new tracks work together nicely, and could be the seed from which a brand new album might develop. I was recording at night, in a smoke-filled room, so probably the night is present in those songs. My favorite part of night comes right before the dawn, and the tracks are like Polaroids of that fleeting moment. I really enjoy working at Via Kosmische, I can't imagine a better place to work on my art.

Here are the lyrics, and audio, for both new tracks.

PSYCHEDELIC MOON

There’s a funny colored river
Playing love bits out of tune
And it must’ve all been painted
By the psychedelic moon

See those love bits on the water
Floating gently with the stars
And it must’ve all been painted
On a psychedelic night

There’s a mirror in her hallway
River’s all she wants to see
And she must’ve had it painted
On a psychedelic breeze

See this mirror on the water
Like a candle burning bright
Small orchestra playing deeply
On a psychedelic night

What you wish for, it all happens
That’s the night for secret dreams
And I feel like going nowhere
On a psychedelic wind

Hear the strings of distant alleys
Hear the sound of loneliness
Silent trumpets carry letters
To the psychedelic mass

See my shadow on the water
I am bending like a spoon
Just to reach the secret surface
Of the psychedelic moon

We will never leave the river
Making love there every night
Till we run into the sunrise
Full of psychedelic light

The Strange World of A.J. Kaufmann · "Psychedelic Moon" (a variation on THE DEEP).

EXPLODING LIGHTBULBS

I’m seeing numbers being painted on the sky
I’m hearing music of the spheres, space lullaby
Guess I’m closer to the end, a happy man
Exploding lightbulbs show me who I am

Perhaps the man you fear to comprehend
Perhaps a writer without any plan
Have you been experienced, I ask
Right after Jimi, I ask and ask and ask

I’m seeing graves in the corner of my room
I’m dropping acid beneath the silver moon
A new beginning dawning, like a happy man
Exploding lightbulbs take me as I stand

Perhaps the man you spy across the sea
Perhaps a trip into the sky machine
Have you been experienced, I ask
Right after Jimi, I spin and spin and spin

What’s exploding beneath the starry ceiling
Lightbulbs of all colors, sizes and shapes
It’s a fiesta of light on the broken horizon
It happens anywhere I place my hand

Have you seen the sky machine exploding
Have you seen the lightbulbs in my room
Have you heard the universe imploding
Have you heard the seagull carry news

The Strange World of A.J. Kaufmann · "Exploding Lightbulbs"

Ramble Records - news.

Ramble Records, Australia, is an Independent record label based in Melbourne, Australia specializing in outsider music, guitar music, acid folk, avant-folk, psych, free jazz, Indian classical and avant-garde sounds from around the globe.

The philosophy and/or motivation is to promote underrepresented yet captivating music - challenging, thought provoking, interesting yet undervalued or underrepresented music. The type of music that major labels and most radio stations ignore!

Initially the focus was intended to be purely on fingerpicking and guitar-based music but has now been extended to include jazz/ improvised, experimental/avant-garde, post-punk, psych, outsider, lo-fi, Indian classical and other music forms from around the world.

***

Ramble Records is also my label - releasing 2 of my vinyl albums - my solo LP "Stoned Gypsy Wanderer" (my 2nd album, first released on CD-R with Kendra Steiner Editions, Texas, USA, back in 2014) and the debut vinyl release of Säure Adler, the band I founded back in 2012 with Kacper Wojaczek. The vinyl features 2019 sessions in various configurations captured live at Via Kosmische.

Both albums were released in 2021.

And, early in 2022, my solo album "Jam Session", recorded early 2019, was released with Ramble as a digital download.

Those 2 vinyl releases I mentioned were among 20 vinyl releases that Ramble prepared for, and released in 2021. Ramble also releases CD, and digital. It's a label that really promotes the artists it releases and takes good care of the ears of its listeners. I am proud to be a part of this experience.

And this year, my new CD, curated by Mike Sill, the head of Ramble himself, will appear on Ramble Records. I am really excited about it, and can't wait to share more news with you as soon as they unfold.

So, please enjoy everything Ramble releases here:
http://ramblerecords.bandcamp.com/
and check out the website here for even more music and info:
http://ramblerecords.com/

"Missing Link" (New poem, 2022/06/08).

There is a wind
soundless
I climb on it daily
missing
inhuman
there are humans
alien to life
its fish lips
kiss everyone passionately
but not with
the same
outcome

we were
tiny monsters
of loneliness
scum of the land
sweat of the desert
flower
of the dirt

we are
musicians
famous only to the mirrors
legends in the making
legends alive
shock obituaries

we will be
skeletons dancing
thinking to themselves
in mirrored coffins
„what have we done
to Africa?”
why is the climate a mess
why is war
a fact?

to the same drum
we sweat
to the same beat
we are born,
we eat
we die
what's leftovers to inhuman wind
just empty suits
suitcases
belongings
scattered
in the waste
and tiny children lost without their parents
the scavengers
of wind's waste

"Bard's Woman in the Cool of the Summer Breeze": "Little Whip" Update.

My brand new album, "Bard's Woman in the Cool of the Summer Breeze", is almost finished! But there is one integral element missing - YOU <3 - please listen to the song, and if it resonates with you, send me a message - we'll discuss everything, and later you can add your parts to my voice and acoustic guitar. The album already features collaborations with Sound Animal, Ralf "Gypsy" Bevis, Clyde von Klaus, and Blessed Studio Indonesia. Want your name on a cool CD with a cool cover? Want to shine creatively on something new? Just let me know :)

The Strange World of A.J. Kaufmann · "Little Whip" (Collab Offer) See Description for Details.

"AUTOCHTONE" New album alert (The Swamp Records, 2022). Plus more.

"Afronaut" above is a track from the EP "Bavarian Gypsy" released with Father and Son Records and Tapes as Adam Majdecki-Janicki last year.

It is my first track in which I refer to the African roots of all culture.

It is the concept of "Mother Black Atlantis", where the original inhabitants of Atlantis were Nubians from Plutonia, like in Sun Ra's mythology.

Why do I remind you of this track today? Because I have a new album upcoming with The Swamp Records USA titled "Autochtone", in which I further explore the "Mother Black Atlantis" concept.

Two tracks especially touch upon the theme - "Celebration of the Crocodile", which is a celebration of the Afro Synth music... primitive poetry, and tribal rhythm... and... "Vagabunga", which is taking the Atlantis roots to Jamaica for a dub session with a mad scientist. "3797" is aurally psychedelic folk noise, but lyrically it takes the writings of Nostradamus back to Atlantis. And "Jolly Little Rocker" is a track about a certain Brooklyn individual I met back in 2015 on a plane from London.

"Autochtone" will contain 10 brand new tracks recorded April-May 2022, in which I explore what is most important for me in art - the experimental and the (un)easy listening, where the sound absorbs you so much, you become one with it. I like to push further the boundaries of sound, and working in the underground allows that perfectly. There are no limits.

"Autochtone" wouldn't be "Autochtone" without my mother and father, Cromagnon's "Orgasm", T.Rex, Fuzzy, Justin Jackley, The Swamp Krewe, Mike from Atlantis, Tristan, Nicolas, Ralf, Amon Duul, Gong, Brazilian death/thrash metal, Sascha, and everyone I forgot to mention but I am grateful for their existence. Onward.

"Acid Hell" (Brand new song, 04.06.2022)

Words and Music by A.J. Kaufmann.
Artwork by Justin Jackley.

LYRICS:

Acid King crawls up
He knows the cost of hell
His eyes and brains are gone
His trips have all been bad
Reach out for the carpet
One familiar smell
His garment is your skull now
His hand an angry bell

Ring all hell tomorrow
Pick up all the blood
See the blade you borrowed
Rusting in the mud

Acid Queen is bitter
She's the red bitch trip
Heavy arms of sunlight
Don't creep up her crypt
She's a razor lady
Witch of death and stars
Once you see her veils
The torture never stops

Life's a hazy concept
Of the black divine
Every raven gets a story
To tell before the light
Tears it into pieces
Of a larger self
Acid trips are death to me
The revelation spell

Kiss all hell tomorrow
Drugland knows no mercy
See the clothes you borrowed
Disillusion's fancies

The Strange World of A.J. Kaufmann · "Acid Hell" (Brand new song, 04.06.2022)

"La Luna Vera"

La Luna Vera swimming in my blood
Call her Venera on Aphrodite's flood
Show her manana and she'll never return
Peel a banana – you'll watch her lily skin burn

La Luna Vera melting down dreams
And when she's close to me she makes me sing
Call her the Sidewalk – neither skin nor bone
Drop a sunflower and she'll never get old

La Luna Vera climbing up town
She makes me sweat now like the kingdom come
Show her how lazy people are in her eyes
See the sun is shining and the weather is nice

The Yellow Blackness - "Liebling" (New Song!)

Adam Majdecki-Janicki / A.J. Kaufmann · The Yellow Blackness - "Liebling" (New Song!)

LYRICS:

I've been watching you for hours
In the technicolor dream
I'm a sucker for your flowers
I could die here on your screen
I've been catching up with stories
You made up to help me feel
I'm a girl of fewer worries
Now that you and me are real

Summer baby
Lover child
Grassroots liebling
Liebling wild
Oh I miss your face
Oh I miss your face

I've been scratching at the ceiling
Like a cat in sudden heat
I'm a devastating feeling
I could knock you off your feet
I've been matching pain with glory
Just to see how far it goes
I'm a girl of fewer worries
Now that you have rocked my boat

Summer baby
Lover child
Grassroots liebling
Liebling wild
Oh I miss your face
Oh I miss your face