An ode to changes
It was in 2021, when I looked out of my window, onto a street displaying a spring that just had sprung. I noticed how many shadows were moving on the asphalt: wandering shadows, created by people, birds, cars in motion. Motionless shadows from houses and street signs. Pleased by the sight, it felt like waking up earlier than expected after a long winter sleep to me – a sleep that had been unrestful, infused by the narrowness of the Corona time as well as other changes in my life, both above and under the surface. But the light was back, and more or less automatically I picked up my guitar and played a random picking in standard tuning, with the capo on the fourth fret. The picking turned from randomness into a pattern pretty fast, the pattern caused words to appear and only half an hour later this collage of feelings and observations was somewhat finished.
However, just somewhat. The last verse took a while to grow complete (as far as lyrics can ever feel finished anyway), and so it wasn’t before late summer of the same year that I brought the will of recording this short piece to my musical brother, duo partner in crime (crying?) and producer Eno. Just before we had unintendedly rediscovered our being-in-the-moment recording approach and managed to apply it to catching the moment of „Shadows“ – I recall how naturally the song seemed to float into these two microphones in front of me. Over the years the recording never evoked any doubts if it was interesting for anyone except myself, it is an unspectacular, honest document of a time full of changes that later became one of the first lullabies for my daughter. I can only love it like a true friend and I’m more than happy to finally introduce the world to this simple, warm soul of a friend.
Listen to „Shadows“ on Spotify, if you like.
November Me 