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Postcard #6: Deconstruction Site

by entertainment for the braindead

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1.
Collision 03:20
we‘re blinded and we‘re innocent, we‘re following our trails with headlights off. we trust the rails that they might lead us, they won‘t fail. someone blocked the switches, it is too late to turn back. something blocked the switches so prepare to jump the track. we‘re wild and free and glad to be, we‘re following our trails. we‘re pass responsibility to those who lead us, they won‘t fail. and with each transition, each decision that we make we await collision, we are well-prepared to break. and with each transition, each decision that we make we await collision, we are well-prepared to break.
2.
Babylon 06:05
I watch your lips move, I watch the syllables fall out, try to collect them with my bare hands. I listen to you, your voice‘s echoes resonate in my head. I watch your body and every movement is a word, every gesture is a sentence. but when I listen to you I look for meaning in the noise, in your voice. your chest lifts and lowers as the air goes in and out, put some cotton in my ears to mute your talking, kill the sound ‚cause as I try to put those syllables together I find they make no sense at all. I watch your lips move I watch the syllables fall out, try to collect them with my bare hands but as I try to put those syllables together I find they make no sense at all. They make no sense at all.
3.
Born Today 04:27
my tiny feet in oversized shoes tap to the beat of the drums in my head. my tiny hands clutch my guitar, anxious to land in the right fret. the world is young: it was just born today. don‘t go wrong. don‘t go astray. a helpless smile, a heartfelt embrace. it takes a while to learn to stand upright. and I cant see what will become, what will I be when my fears subside. the world is young: it was just born today. don‘t go wrong. don‘t go astray... my tiny feet in oversized shoes march to the beat of the drum in my chest. my tiny hand, clinging to yours. it takes a friend to learn to walk alone.
4.
Berlin 05:24
nothing‘s forever but some things don‘t change (or at least stay within the same range), now this is your city and that is my fate: shouldn‘t have come here for I came too late. yet still I‘d like to stay and see what time can do, to see if I can get over or get along with you. intimacy, you say, is a matter of time, and you‘re right, this I know. but there‘s not much left until I have to go.. for so many years I‘ve been trying to prevent myself from trying to reach you my hand. now back in your city I had promised myself not to call, but couldn‘t resist at all. and so we spend the day with talks and lemonade, and I will face a fortress I‘d still like to invade. intimacy, you say, is a matter of time, and you‘re right, this I know, but I don‘t have any cause I have to go. and I still feel small when I stand next to you, still question everything that I do. and I can leave your city but cannot leave behind the questions you engraved on my mind. i wish you could one day be as meaningless to me as the friends that I abandoned or the ones I rarely see. intimacy, you say, is a matter of time - so I don‘t have a chance to cast more than a brief glance at you
5.
Symbiosis 05:55
you give me warmth, you give me strength, my darling. you really are my one and only friend, my dear. you nourish me, protect me, and I take as much as I can. whereever I am, you are always near. in you I‘ve found my home when you are sick, I feel as weak as you do. when you stop eating, I get hungry, too. we really are as close as one can get, my friend, and it‘s a bond that no-one can undo. in you I‘ve found my home I was in need and you‘ve let me inside now you are my provider and I‘m you‘re parasite. of all those who love you I love you the most like only a tapeworm can love its own host
6.
Compost 04:24
I live where the grass is low, where shepherd‘s purse and daisies grow. I wash my hands every daybut soil and dust won‘t go away. one day we will all be humus, dandelions will grow upon us what a pretty thing to be food for grass and rosemary. yarrow and ranunculus will sprout and bloom and feed on us just remember, all is not lost ‚cause our bodies will be compost. I lie down beneath a tree until the grass grows over me. as the setting sun now dies I hear the ravens‘ lullabies: just remember, all is not lost cause our bodies will be compost. just remember, all is not lost our bodies will turn to compost.
7.
it was quite strange to meet you here, years after I‘d left you behind. I almost had forgot about your existence, surprised that you remembered mine. and though I might still look the same I‘m nothing like the girl you knew. and though I‘m called by my old name the person it refers to is someone new. when saying goodbye we say we‘ll call and I‘m not sure if that‘s a lie. not that I wouldn‘t want to - I‘m just scared. That‘s a thing I can‘t deny. and though I might still look the same I‘m nothing like the girl you knew. and though I‘m called by my old name the person it refers to is someone new. How the world is way too small to let you walk away from your past. though all that you need to unfold is to step out of the shadows that all your yesterdays still cast.
8.
Roadmovie 03:45
I fell asleep counting shooting stars, wished they might heal all my old scars and when I woke there were none indeed and nothing left to make me bleed drive on and on, my little car, the furthest shore is not too far. just you and me, we need no-one except the sun to lead us on to where the wind blows across the planes, where time goes in a slower pace. drive on and on and on I fell asleep in the midday heat and dreamt of dust and tumbleweed. my little car, let‘s hit the trail, the waiting is of no avail. see the shadows on the rolling hills as time goes it gives me thrills. driving on and on and on

about

Cologne.
The city I was born in, I grew up in. Like a spouse to whom I had been promised before I was born and ended up being married to for over twenty years. My love to her has never been questioned. And only lately I begin to realize it had never been my choice.
This is my home. I couldn‘t be more tired of it. Couldn‘t be more tired of sounding calm and sweet. A roughness needs to be released. And chewed and put into perspectives. Construction sites cover the city‘s face like open wounds, and it‘s time to rub salt in them.
Yet home is not just the place, it is also the people, my friends that I found in recent years and began to love dearly…. Now these songs attempt to unite both,

merge recordings of my actual, physical surroundings, my city, my house, my heartbeat, with the subtle presence of my friends whose instruments I borrow and play, one for each track.
Home‘s impossibe to deal with. You‘re wrapped tightly in its embrace, can‘t shrug it off easily. And yet at times there‘s nothing more desirable than to cut loose from it for good.
You can‘t, you won‘t. You‘ll always bear a trace of your connection like a scar, like a second belly button. Deal with it. And disassemble, deconstruct and analyze your paths and where they‘ll lead you, remember where you are.

Cologne, Summer & Fall 2009

credits

released February 21, 2013

these tunes were collected in summer and fall 2009 in Cologne. Performed and recor-ded, mixed and arranged by Julia Kotowski aka. entertainment for the braindead, then released a long time later as the sixth in a series of audio Postcards in February 2013.
more on entertainmentforthebraindead.com

Thanks to Fabian for the violin. to Nicole for the trumpet. to Judith who doesn‘t know I used her drums. to Milan for the ipad. to Ian for the mandolin. to Christiane for my tenor recorder.

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entertainment for the braindead Berlin, Germany

Julia Kotowski, based in Berlin, weaves her sonic universe from shy song lines, small instruments and field recordings, carefully wraps them in paper cut-outs and serves them with home-made ginger cookies. And coffee.

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