"This is a short-form experimental electronic album I have been working on for the past three years or so as a form of self-therapy.
I hope the emotional content on here transcends my individual life experience and resonates with you in some way. A dear friend of mine, whose poetic outings I had been a fan of for a long time, decided to lend me some of his words to accompany this piece, asking to withhold his name and instead use his sigil M.KO for publication. I think when you listen very closely and then read the poems later you will have a very clear understanding of what this is all about. I have been sitting here trying to formulate what it is that this music is trying to say, what it is communicating, but I feel like you can find out by yourself more easily, because I think these pieces really do just speak and speak and speak. This project is ment to close a chapter in my life that I would rather leave behind. Releasing this is a huge cathartic experience as it acts as a magickal paradigm shift, throwing off certain entities and forces that used to control me like ballast. I needed a lot of support during all of this, as well as some systematic inspiration to manifest what I had in mind so concluding my two cents I would like to thank:

- M.KO for writing some amazing verses and being a great friend.
- Jessica Kim for letting me use her incredible artwork for free
- My mother for contributing vocals to track 02
- Maxyne for changing the way I think about musick and magick completely, thus partly inspiring this concept and finally
- Several musicbook people, you know who you are <3

This album is dedicated to my parents, Pater Hubertus Groppe, Max Keller, MArcel Bethge and most of all my poor grandmother, Jutta Hermansen."
- Paul* Hermansen


Die Demenz-Gedichte von M.KO :
(The Dementia-Poems by M.KO, translation by Paul Hermansen)

01 Laudatio

Sie sprachen mir ein Sang,
Saß ich doch dabei!
Kratzten ihrem Sarg
dem doch noch keiner Lag

Schaufelten sein Grab
dem mein war doch sehr bald,
wissen sie es
Ja!

Zeitung da man las
Weder Staub noch faules Aas,
Doch Großmama, vergaß.

(translation:)

They mouthed me a Song,
As I rested there
Clawing on the lid
Of coffin lying bare

Burrowing his Grave
Which mine was fairly soon
Do they know it
Yes!
There the paper read
Neither dust nor truly dead
But Grandma will forget.




02 1945

-..../---.. 1945
The sky is blue
The heads up high,
The day is new
And planes fly by.

MU SH ROOM

Now all looks bright
Our date was due
And the world got fried.

----./---.. 1945
It’s a breakthrough
In human lives,
To spell out doom
Not once but twice...



03 Alt

So saß er wieder im alten Bahnhof, beobachtete das Leben um sich, sah wie die Natur die Welt zurückgewann und suchte sein Glück.
Er rauchte nicht mehr, obwohl er wollte. Der Drang hat ihn immer wieder überrannt und so kehrt er zurück.

Er schrieb nicht mehr obwohl er wollte. Sie hatte ihn verlassen, seitdem ging es nicht mehr. So schmerzhaft es auch war, so war es ab nun.
Und so saß er da und Tat nichts.

Der alte Mann, war einfach da ohne Grüße ist er in sein Leben getrieben.

Sohn sag, wann komme denn der Zug?
Oh Alter weißt du denn nicht?
Hier ist schon Jahre kein Betrieb.

Aber Sohn, das kann doch nicht sein,
erst letzte Woche trug es mich doch dort wo ich wollte.

Oh nein Alter, vertraue, es ist verlassen und allein.
Ah welch Schande, so wollt ich noch vieles sehen.

So sprang der Alte und verlass östlich Richtung Gleise.

Bis Abend sah er noch gen Osten, dem Wunder hinterher
als Feuer auf Pulver traf.


(translation:)
And there he sat again at the ancient train stop, observing life around him, noticing nature winning back the world, looking for his goal
He smoked no more, though he wanted to. The Urge had gotten the best of him several times and so he went back.
He wrote no more, though he wanted to. She had left him; ever since it didn’t work no more. As painful as it was, that’s how it is from now on.

And so he sat there, doing nothing.
The old man, he was just there without blessings driven into life
Tell me, son, when’s the train arrive?
Oh old boy don’t you know?
This station has been out of service for years.
But son, that cannot be. Merely last week it carried me to where I desired to be.
Oh no, old man, have trust. It is abandoned and lonely
Oh, what pity. So much left to see for me.

So the old man jumped and leave-east railroad-way.
Until evening he was seen looking eastwards chasing the miracle
When fire met powder.



04 Subject

All in Favor
Of the subject
To get shot

Raise your hands.

No-one
but 用う?
One
m✓e
Raised no¥
their
hands!


Thus b
hands
I
raise

Got
me

Shot