„93-105”, my new album, my old story.

by Adam Majdecki-Janicki

93-105, my new album, my old story. by Adam Majdecki-Janicki

The album costs 3 euro, but took 18 years to make, of course, not continuous 18 years, but I wouldn’t record such music without living my life as I did since 2002 when I started recording cassette tapes with my friend in a high rise block in Poznań, Poland. The block’s address was 93-105. So, now you all know what „planet 93-105” means. And high rise blocks are really like separate planets, at least in Poland…

And cassettes are beautiful items, surviving years and owners, and „93-105” is now not only my block’s address, an imaginary planet, and album title, but also a beautiful cassette released with Illuminated Paths, USA, and this full circle of space and tapes, and my life April-July 2020 is what this story is all about a sound story. A sound story best experienced on cassette.

So go grab a copy of „93-105”, and feel like it’s 2002 in a Poznań, Poland high rise block, or elsewhere in the galaxy, wherever imagination takes you… this cassette is yours, not mine, now. And 18 years are gone, but it feels like light years…

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Buy More Chewing Gum

by Adam Majdecki-Janicki

Buy More Chewing Gum by Adam Majdecki-Janicki
We live in funny times.

The Artist writes his best song for seven years, suffers mental breakdowns, heartbreaks, crazy life situations, misunderstandings, self-doubt, rehabs, and other things that people might encounter in 7 long years. The song is finally ready. He records it. It takes a week. He releases it. Nobody buys it.

In the meantime, The Kid makes a beat on his iPhone; it takes him 3 minutes. He drops it. Someone buys it for $50, to rap about „bitches” over the mindless loop. The Kid buys more chewing gum.

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Letter from Via Kosmische, 17/1/19 Earth Time, 16:37.

by Adam Majdecki-Janicki

Letter from Via Kosmische, 17/1/19 Earth Time, 16:37. by Adam Majdecki-Janicki
Driving (in the) snow from Kempten. I was supposed to put saucers and blondes together, but the reversable rider of Skye said „NO!”, and off he went on a rollercoaster ride of thrift shop guitars, carrying the torch for Lady Biba. The 4 A.M. Lamp kept burning, and sociopaths were rescued from their shady caves, turned into rainbows and oh! Butterflies „above the nation”. That was the dream of the Woodstock generation, now wasn’t it?

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Via Baltica. Boulevard Of Dreams.

by Maekkelae

Via Baltica. Boulevard of dreams. by Maekkelae
Glamour? Stardom? Fame? Money? Is this it? That what you’re in for? Then you’re missing out on the real thing. On the hardship to inspire you. On the failure that’ll make you stronger. On the losses that’ll teach you there is more to it than things. On all of what’ll make you put your soul into your songs. Believe me, they will understand. They will know by the way you sing them. And they’ll laugh and cry and weep and smile. Once you’ve seen this, you’re on the right track.

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