BBR067

out on Sept 30

Rode through the south italian desert on a Peugeot fuelhorse. The Autogrill is glowing greasily in the image's background. An awkward spaghetti western unfolds as a melancholy fantasy. A sort of coming of age spaghetti movie, cause your lips are painted with canned tomato blood. You're in between times. The old hero is dead, but we stole his guitar and seven rounds of ammunition. Premises: decadence hot, defeatism only for the old - if you say eclecticism, you cough letters around and I usually say: huh?
(...)

www.horalunga.bandcamp.com

BBR067

out on Sept 30

(...)
No one lying by the swimming pool, but wind. And Lana Del Rey gets her Hollywood chewing gum supplies at the 24-hour-shop at the Langstrasse. It's all true because it's immortalized on Mini-DV, we'd only need to edit it.
Hora Lunga had time. Said farewell in order to start with this and that, catch unaccompanied pictures, unaccompanied tones in melodies cloud up at the blue synthesizer apparatus. And he almost got through with this on his own.

www.horalunga.bandcamp.com

what we talk about

when we talk

WWTA07

What we talk about when we talk about love? And how can you talk about complicated things with only one alphabetic character, the longest softest sound or the smallest possible hand movement? It rained snow for a way too long time: Zurich, people slipping on the ice on Hardplatz, sliding into their next setback. David shoos away the stray cat that stayed at the cellar at Zimmerlistrasse 4. Today the closing credits appear at the very beginning, we fall in love when parting, espresso shortly before midnight: Someday, maybe, who knows—byebye Zimmerlistrasse. Black painted fingernails at the kind piano one last time, earlobe on the damp basement wall, in search of a sound.

BlauBlau Records, early summer 2022