Get all 13 YES IT'S ANANIAS releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of YES IT'S ANANIAS IV: TURBULENCES AFTER THE CRASH LANDING INTO THE FOURTH DIMENSION, Clever Mañana, Departitura Pt. II (Leaving Hirzel Palace), Arrivinterval Pt. II (Broken Heart Syndrome In GDL), FLUXUS VERVE, Princess Heinrich (Piano Day '22 Live Edit), YES IT'S ANANIAS III LIVE: THE EVOLUTION OF THE THIRD ERA (Official Motion Picture Steinway Session), YES IT'S ANANIAS III: THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE THIRD ERA, and 5 more.
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Title-Poetry
You have entered the everlasting muscle. The heart of the
human body with the ability to rot until it doesn’t move a
micrometer anymore. What are you looking at? What is it
that kept you moving without taking the flesh unwillingly
off your body? Is Astrid, the psychoautomatic stewardess
taking any beverages with her on your flight? Are your seat
belts fixed and is your mind ready to take off? I wonder if we
ever see us again. We might never. As I have changed and
you made your way in different directions. Towards west.
Our mind takes off and the limits have been overdue in time
of bonding as a two-souled figure.
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Title-Poetry
To become one we need to part and to become another one
we must ignite. The motors are rambling and the stillness
of our hearts is our fuel to silently fly away into the desert’s
abyss of Destruction. Deconstruction. Construction. Structure.
It’s on. We are seeing our inner self and observing the
outer world to indulge it in our new souls.
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Title-Poetry
As we speak and write in foreign languages we won’t fear
anymore. We let the spirits get a certain glow and pour it
into our eyelids. A pulsating acid of crimson moonlight woven
atmospheres and candy, sweet enough to make your
eye glisten to see more mysterious creatures from up above
your seat. You are holy. You are precious. You are the
one who will understand the depths of visions that the old
men and women told you about when you were still unable
to speak out a word or a letter of your own name. You had
many names. The pilot knows. The one who gasps heavily
all the time. Into the distorted microphone. It’s your teacher.
The one who will let you die or will let you live.
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Title-Poetry
Life became a training and not a pony party anymore. So
like the desert cowboys you’re able to whiplash soft muscles
and hair. In despair and sadness, we never thought we
could overcome. Yet we are scared to take this flight in the
other direction. Who have we become and when will we
find out? On the other side or when we finally crash this
airplane and let spread light into the cabin you always wanted.
I knew your fears I knew we had to deal and I know we
were able to fly together but the rotten tree of Shenghokam
made us wear our knitted clothes and made us obey
the natural force as we bow down and serve the ones who
have given us all majestic powers and identity to observe
the willingness people. The ones who always seek and walk
in circles. The ones who always run and never go further.
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Title-Poetry
Anyone could get out of it if thy only knew how. But we must
pass ourselves many times to even take a step out of the
new normal. The bearded knew. The smiling old lady knew
at the beach. With her biscuit hair and rocking chair, she
whispered slowly in my ear that we won’t be far away from
all of our dreams that wait patiently. Have you ever thanked
enough for your dreams that they are so willingly awaiting
your times to approach the resurrection of the new you
that dies in the future? Will you pass by the enrichened
solar system where you observe the gaslights outside the
window? When are we finished? Why were we starting? A
commencement has begun and the evolution has come.
Transgression of depression into eternal smiles that break
the hard muscle in your eyelid and rip your eyes apart so
you become able to see the world in crimson’s very deep
tone, while the blood is pearling towards into your iris. It
reaches the inner face. The one you never had and the one
you only heard about. It’s coloring the awareness of thy
mighty strong creature.
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Title-Poetry
You are repeating yourself for minutes on your favorite movement
and decide to be blind for a lifetime so you must
never feel what reality is really like. You demand your eyes
to be your computer and the engine of your airwing. Rolling
out in turbulences and hovering back into the still flight of
fantastic loopings that weren´t possible through technique
a couple of years ago. Stand by and you will be able to
see many thoughts written down and put into the reality
you made up. Fiction becomes a fraction of your wishes,
dishes, so dear misses, miss us. I carry your sorrow forever
in my heart as my heart grew to the biggest object in
space and time. You always have a home in my old past.
One must always carry it. It’s your daily book and lessons
you can refer to whenever you are in wish to forget all good
and bad and just do. Like now. Now. Now. I could write it
many, many, many, oh so many times but just here out in
the silent nowhere we find nothing and that is something
we risk to oversee it. Trying to land overseas doesn’t mean
your body wants to see and feel the Caribbean sea as we
see that harm and pain will always float along subconscious
self-respect.
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7. |
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Title-Poetry
Thinking of a variety of dreams that have been torn apart
while sinking into the diversity of the diver’s city that is just
being born right here in front of our four eyes.
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Title-Poetry
War has crossed your path and within the natural loud noise
of Goliath’s stomping feet who screams at the walls of
Yiacatan to enter the city it always belonged to, it’ll destroy
every old thoughtful tower and sight we build within years
in our mind. Crafting a new decade within a century might
take a couple of months. Maybe for years but we won’t give
up until we are all the same again. Me, my old me, and the
new you, dear fourth me. I wonder when you gonna come
up and save me from the upcoming fires and hire the tire
that is always missing on my four-wheeled wagon. Like a
burning horse caravan, you run into the abyss and seek the
cold desert’s sand to put out the whistling fires aside from
your heel. I couldn’t risk flying over the edge and dying. As
the time is not now and I tell you why there is a soul to be
heard and a hollow to be filled with someone else’s dried
body. It’s all the old yous you are putting to the grave. You
wish them well. You become new as we speak. Kill yourself
to become the murdered and the mother of your freshly
washed soul. Break your heart apart in two parts, pale blue
swords will fly over and automatically do it for you. Just
shout their names. Analem, Besekus, Cithradur, and the
shortest and most painful of them all: Onatnelec.
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9. |
Clever Mañana
03:50
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Title-Poetry
With the queen’s precision in cutting warm skin into two
pieces. One to preserve and one to grow in a new glass. In
its salty liquid, it’ll grow fast and becomes stronger than
ever before. Every electricity will be put into its electronic
sweeping device and starts to conquer your vessels of habits.
Pumping strange liquids into the morning air to make
the early hour golden again. We will never be tired of an
ever-ending evening. The Morning of the Aluap Mountain
view as you surely remember will always stay in your mind.
No water can wash it out. So stop wasting tears and use
the salt to enlighten Sweet Dreams. Are you observing a
gigantic inner ocean turn into a sea of sharp blades of salt
crystals? Would you wanna swim in it and get 4 quattuordecillion
cuts on your crawling arms?
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10. |
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Title-Poetry
Little corns and crisps of a new sea. An empty one. The
wonderful Saltsea that is going to be filled with so many
fish. No living habitants around the shore has to suffer any
hunger anymore. On the 8th day of the week, you will gain
ideas to develop adjustments for your identical children.
Without names or movements. A Stillbirth like a mother
wolf Laghira.
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11. |
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Title-Poetry
Listen to what the elder says, follow spirits that lived on
your soil’s true habitant living area, and obey the upper
world’s language that demands you to stay strong and fulfill
the 13 destinies. Learn them by heart and forget them
once you broke every rule that comes within. Start over
again. But never miss any rule. So by the time you learn
and respect all of the existing paths helping rubberbands
across the outer line of the most dangerous city in our atmosphere.
Where the lack of love is being pushed towards
your eyes and makes you see the suffering of the young
lungs that wanna be filled with every lost mother’s warm
breath that they forgot. The streets are full of rats, yet rats
know how to deal with the underground. But it’s them who
never get food from their whereabouts. A seeking soul always
nourishes itself from up above. So look down and feed
them with their kind. Who’s eating who? The question mark
upon your forehead is louder than the crack of my fruitful
heart today. Don’t miss to answer. Don’t miss it.
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Title-Poetry
It has no use nor sense to become someone else. It will always
be the only purpose for us to always be what we are.
So whenever we enter new lands or stages in our godly life
we acknowledge the different versions of our own practical
evolutions. Never change so you can always be observing
the achanging.
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13. |
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Title-Poetry
Flight 4444-SCM will cover all your emission and rattle all
your bones to make you feel all and every emotion. To dust.
Because of trust and lost lust. As we must remain silent
we will continue the vibrant, fine, and most distinguished
catalog of opportunities to see above the world’s end. We
Love. We fly. We land. And End. Friend. Sending ourselves to
the V. element. Expect Turbulences after the crash landing
into the fourth dimension.
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YES IT'S ANANIAS Wohlen, Switzerland
With a first Improvisation-Single "Arrivinterval, Pt. II (Broken Heart Syndrome In GDL)" + "Departitura, Pt. II (Leaving Hirzel Palace)" off the upcoming work by Yes It's Ananias, recorded by a state-of-art recording engineer William Gonzalez at NomasMellow Sound Studios in the mexican Desert of Guadalajara, Jalisco, the Swiss psychoautomatic Pianist has done it again. A fully improvised Album.... ... more
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