Egg Lamps Wrap-Up

Sometimes it gets so good that words would only slide off. Sometimes the multi-media in question completes the canvas so much, that to direct any response would only add an unnecessary hum of noise. Rarely, but sometimes it happens. It happens when the song in question steals every grain of my evenin’ feelin’ out of my mediating brain and puts it onto my immediate sensory organs… all I can do is not think, feel one, feel unitary, a body of being.  happy times. … And so the winner is Ok Kid and their song Borderline and all the songs on their self-titled album of 2013, the dark ballet shoes black piano keys video thump for this song (above) and the dusty dashboard radioplay they gave me in a White Van outside Salzburg. And so also does this song complete 8 tracks of Egg Lamps, that is, the foregone collection of 7 music instalments spread over 14 days with German lyrics introduced with English short story responses; it has the intention of transporting a listener into new geographies of human sound, a language not universally listened to. One brief scour shows this song nowhere to be seen on Hype Machine… absurd… and so I feel a shiver of activism, maybe this mix could shift some geographies. Hope you enjoy the 8tracks. Why not open it in a new window and read through, chronologically, all the corresponding instalments (below) that form together a bigger story… although that having been said the words are as usual inessential.

Egg Lamps Series (German Lyrics) from APocketFullOfSeeds on 8tracks Radio.

1. 4am acoustic guys (byebye, 2011)
2. Falling asleep (Jens Buchert, 2012)
3. Breathless between platform (Kazimir, 2013)
4. Nodding to homeless man’s story (März, 2002)
5. Feeling free at the service station (Mellow Mark, 2003)
6. Kind lovers leading me to the crossroads (Niila, 2014)
7. At the crossroads where all youth follow suit (Horizont Ford, 2013)

I realise this format, this idea, these words, the songs, it all might seem rather opaque; I can’t deny I’ve not refrained from allowing it so. This project is designed as a foreign maze to render slow-burning fulfilment to you the scroller, it’s admittedly been a slightly spontaneous prototype of future projects when more things are happening.


A Song about Corner Booths

I was going to do a ‘p.s. post’ on the Egg Lamp charade, partly because I have come across more gute Lieder in the process of hitchhiking and my host driver has the radio on and some epic song comes on and he offers me 7 cigarettes over the course of 200 miles, and then another epic song comes on the radio, and partly because all of the 7 story instalments I wrote on 6th July very very absurdly came basically to real life over the proceeding 2 weeks: the 4 am spontaneous acoustic intimate gig (although it was midnight and it wasn’t acoustic),  the long-life conversation with Hans the homeless man on a platform (*Rolf on a bench), the sunset bus with my reflection on the window, the moustache man (drove me from Rostock to Berlin), the 11 o clock lovers leading me to my crossroads (an amazing couple full of smiles and gave me a bottle full of water for my travels after driving me to the mountains). Shit got real!

So I was going to do a p.s. post, but instead I did the above p.s. blurb to precede a post on something quite different:

Griff’s Room Band and their song Corner Booth. This is a song about wanting corner booths in restaurants, it goes the distance in terms of explaining why this particular place of the restaurant is desirable. It goes 3 minutes without much elevation, not too much greater meaning, just really wanting a corner booth, and all this to the brilliantly mastery of Holloways-like cheerful violins and melodies and liveliness. The kind of golden delirious but happiless song for a golden delirious but happiless day, the good things in life.

This little song summary is not at all to lop-side against the rest of the album on which it appears. A stable 6-straw hat hamper  to jump into and to be carried along within toward a miscellaneous city park where everyone is doing miscellaneous city park things. That is, well rounded folk, “good vibes”, sunshine, lyrics to lull to, to nod to, rock-knocking palm prods, string-lined and strong hearted 3 Men with instruments, yep. Right on.

That last paragraph was describing the 6 song item released this June, Shut The Case. This is music and band I heard about through Lili and the Dirty Moccasins who are supporting GRB at the CD release gig.

Egg Lamps #7 (The End)

Horizont Ford – Wahn Solo

The junction we stand at the side of is gigantic. It’s a work of art in itself, a monstrous maze of transport, tarmac. The lovers I accompanied have already departed and I’m alone. It’s 20 year old century and the car windows are all shut. The music that now ever so saintly fades into view is the almighty Good, the contours of fellow-minded mess. I look around, the lovers may be gone, but their presence is replaced by an ever growing multitude of weariness, a waft of voices and problems and languages, we all look upon the junction with a sense of fascination, a low sense of forgotten amusement bobbles at the surface. One friend over there cracks a smile and winks at me, or maybe the girl two to the left of me, or maybe at no-one in particular. One passer-by over there sits down, and we all slowly follow suit. And our amusing uniform distracts the heavy flowing junction, they all stop their cars and look at us for the first time ever! Horizont Ford‘s music, innovative music, music of freedom still filling the air waves, we tap our feet in unison and establish our new rhythm.

These short story installments will leave you nowhere! But, they have narrated an essense of why I would chose these 7 very diverse songs in my German Language Music Educational for English-Speakers guidebook  (I wouldn’t call it that). But, enough words, enjoy the songs, explore those other places, other realms of imagination… If you’re still with me from the beginning, you will understand the cats are by now extremely hungry which is worrying as we are running low on spaghetti.

Egg Lamps #6

Niila – Das Labyrinth

If this chimney moustache keeps on glancing gleefully over at my rockin’ out head, I will breathe in all his restlessness and I will become him, I will still be him when I get back on the bus and I get to wherever I’m heading, when my head’s on the pillow, I will have an unpleasant moustache and I will still be smoking. Bwaaaaaahg! I get up, out of the sticky double bed, open the door, the front door, fingers slimey from the hull of my voicebox spread open, arms above my head, and it’s all smashing glass bubbles behind my eyes, EVERYTHING’S SHIT! What an exclamation to greet the newspaper-sellers and the clipboard-holding penniless poorly. EVERYTHING’S SHIT! Before I know it I have my hand grabbed by some fellow angry man and a flustered woman, lovers at 11 o clock. For 4 minutes they run me along the streets, bellowing, crying and I stay startled, following their furious feet, my brow becomes ever more a crumpled blanket of my bemusement. And upon our togetherly grabbing for breathe, the lovers and I at the busy junction, our destination, I realise they’ved guided me through an angsty torade, Labyrinth by Niila, a fleeting heart-flying flood of melodramatic exclamation, the recommended medicine for certain moments! Certain moments of melancholy!

Egg Lamps #5

Mellow Mark – Du Bist Frei

Alarm! The sunsets are vorbei and the bus driver is now speaking on the tannoy, not realising that the microphone is on full volume and that there are 26 speakers on his bus, all of which are less than a metre away from our sleeping ears. He says I have half an hour break to do WHAT THE HELL I WANT. It’s a service station for goodness sake. But, upon reflection, half an hour is more than enough time to feel free. And, if I sit on that bench next to where that old lorry-driver is smoking through his moustache and I listen to Du Bist Frei by Mellow Mark, that feeling I mentioned is a guarantee. Seriously. This is German Ska on the topic of high conviction and being free; a strong sense of energetic liberation is not something you’re going to escape. Well, at least my imagination doesn’t, and here it is, positioning the soles of my sturdy shoes beneath a bench next to the moustache chimney with a bus to get back on in half an hour and the world like a wristwatch in the palm of my hand.

Egg Lamps #4

März – Introductory


For now, you’d rather get in the rhythm of nodding your head repeatedly, so that the eye-contact that spurns between you and him spurns magically, a glimmer of light expounding from the clocking nodding knocking backdrops. Hans the homeless man was 15 when he found himself on a boat with the wind in his hair. His time at the helm of 30 feet of wooden vessel stirred between his heartbeats a steady tide of feeling of being released, a tide of fulfillment. Behind him were the wheels of an oil refinery, behind the oil refinery were the wheels of lorries that themselves wheeled around road after rigid road, painted in paper and circles of cigarettes. The essence of Hans’ trascending boat has nothing circly about it, despite the eddys and whirlpools it meanders so effortlessly, so repetitively, at least, it seems so, amidst the commas of the confused sentences he rustles up, upon this train platform upon which we have met. This song, I mean. I relate it to Hans as I relate it to my own simple movements from room to room, from road to parking spots, from lanterns to nightsky, from my head to hers, from her head to the window of a bus driving home, and ultimately, the future sunset that slides down our reflections.