un single qui me fait penser à l'hypnotique "Crush My Love" de Death in June sorti sur l'album "Nada". Pour une rare fois, le saxophone de Ruediger Kramer semble réellement habité de mystère. L'artiste aurait-il enfin découvert sa pierre philosophale? Je dirai presque...

There's that beautiful, lyrical sax tone again!

Mystical music, a sythesizer, and a poem read by a wondering soul - wandering into the next life, a promise to finish this poem. With a strong circular feel in this lazy melody and a gentle pull, our inner eyes look for that poem while that yearning voice declares to us over and over "I will finish this poem . . ." and the sweet sax gives transportation, warming the bones of the listener as we travel this highway with the poet. thanks to balthaz for recommending

These elements seemingly disparate, manage to fuse well forming an intricate knotwork design. I will finish this review, in my next life...

The voice, almost inaudible at times, murmuring, just under the waves, rises up and pulls back, almost taking me to what is between worlds. The words murmur all around me. They become distinct, then disappear into the sweetness of the sax, a sax become like a deep calling home. This morning I read a poem, 'Talking to Ourselves,' to which Orchestra Sekra's 'The next life' seems a perfect accompaniment, and as I read and listened, yes, our thoughts are often in that place between worlds, following our loved ones into the ocean wake, waking on the shore, with and without them, carrying on with our lives: Talking to Ourselves by Philip Schultz A woman in my doctor's office last week couldn't stop talking about Niagara Falls, the difference between dog and deer ticks, how her oldest boy, killed in Iraq, would lie with her at night in the summer grass, singing Puccini. Her eyes looked at me but saw only the saffron swirls of the quivering heavens. Yesterday, Mr. Miller, our tidy neighbor, stopped under our lopsided maple to explain how his wife of sixty years died last month of Alzheimer's. I stood there, listening to his longing reach across the darkness with each bruised breath of his eloquent singing. This morning my five-year-old asked himself why he'd come into the kitchen. I understood he was thinking out loud, personifying himself, but the intimacy of his small voice was surprising. When my father's vending business was failing, he'd talk to himself while driving, his lips silently moving, his black eyes deliquescent. He didn't care that I was there, listening, what he was saying was too important. "Too important," I hear myself saying in the kitchen, putting the dishes away, and my wife looks up from her reading and asks, "What's that you said?" "Talking to Ourselves" by Philip Schultz, from Failure. © Harcourt, 2007. Reprinted with permission. _ with thanks to Balthaz for recommending this single

...chacun détient la vérité, SA vérité. Et le saxophone de Rudiger exprime totalement ce sentiment ainsi que les paroles...Et comme l'écrit très justement Balthaz, R. Kramer semble avoir fait la découverte de sa pierre philosophale, et semble convaincu qu'il s'accomplira en tant qu'individu dans sa prochaine vie...qui en fait peut-être demain, s'il persévère dans cette voie, mais là, intervient son libre-arbitre, et son envie de poursuivre sa quête ou de tout abandonner à ...une prochaine vie.... Merci pour ce partage très intime, et si authentique. (et merci Balthaz pour cette recommandation)

comme si tom waits disait quelques mots sur les volutes de john coltrane comme le dit si bien balthaz l'auteur aurait-il trouvé la pierre philosophale ou est ce le début de la quète du graal