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Apparatjik has been invited by the Nationalgalerie Berlin to present the collective’s first large-scale project in Germany in March 2011.

the wordsymphony is now finished and currently in glorious purple vinyl-production.
the print editions are also close to being done, and will be signed and shipped shortly.
shortly, as in during the month of november.
thank you for your patience.
mf

maybe you’re not too impressed with my output on the apparatjik channel yet, what with my big announcement and all…but one day it may just be worth the struggle. i think. my job is to confuse. and i do it so well even i am in a daze.

so here it is, honeys; i’m outta here. not to disappear off the radar completely of course, (don’t get your hopes up!), but to create havoc somewhere else. 09.09.09 here i come.

having survived another a-ha album (the cat only has 9 lives)it’s fair to say that i will try to pay more attention to my own space again

doublespeak: twice as good

thank you, city
for grinding us down

our instruments not
quite powerful enough

we hover
just shiny metal
outside unbroken glass

the original question was; have i read finnegan’s wake? yes and no.
i read in it constantly, but i have not ‘read it’.

was reared up by stress and sank under strain

and explorers will end up on the verge
of amazing discovery
back at the original feeling

i don’t beat know your own soft skin
how until it hardens to write

you have been very patient

physical separation
can be mathematically explained

but that doesn’t do much
about the pain

if re-incarnation teach me
of the things i never got

surely spending time with you
would do the same

no sense not thinking now
of all things that go
into being here

http://www.coldplay.com/newsdetail.php?id=133

behind the forest rolls
in verdant waves toward the sea

yet further still, like frozen surf
the mountains stand at ease;

and i, who have no herd
except when i can’t sleep

yet further still, like frozen surf
the mountains stand at ease;
coagulated will

sein blick ist vom vorübergehen der stäbe
so müd geworden, daß er nichts mehr hält.

gone never to return the same
coming back but believing the same to be different
always leaving for the last time – again and again
there is madness in the method and no real method to be mad about

i think tomorrow is also the day the new magne f cd is out in the uk
people are scrambling for the doors of recordshops, screaming & banging their litlle fists…
at one point I will just have to let them out, i guess.

for the digitally inclined there is now a pre order of the new cd possible
this time there is no hand- or foot-painted covers, i swear!

however, giving my songs away for free does not mean they now belong to everyone else – and not to me.
i still intend to do exactly what i want when i want. call me old-fashioned.

let me reiterate the obvious: the free download was for you. the vinyl exclusively for those of you interested enough. the music is for everyone. the cd for anyone who wants to buy it. are we clear ?

mms://195.204.125.48:8080

(all you need to do to show your love is buy my bandmates beer afterwards,
but not all 50 of you, please – we have a gig the next day)

the promise of another magne f concert in the uk
may be all the bad news most of you can take on a sunday
…but the albert hall?!?

shurely schome mischtake.

just don’t go to www.magne-f.net/magneftube expecting some kind of reward.
especially not some song i just finished mixing tonight or anything.
ok – the beard may be greying at the edges, but do i look like mr. claus to you?

rather painful watching if you ask me-
with my uncensored self so shamelessly exposed

the mitigating factor is of course that the pain only lasts 30 secs (like most things)
only to substituted by a new even harsher one! (again, like most…)

here’s the better part of the world’s work-force glued to their computer-screens
(notice i said better, as in better, not as in ‘larger’ – i’m not completely delusional)
trying to catch the world’s fastest painter posied and ready, brush in hand…
all that human resource gone to wasteville
how will we repay them the time lost -
oh, we won’t?

ouuuh we’re sooooo sooorrry….come back later

so a bit of internet channel-swapping is recommended here.
personally i am looking forward to sleeping through the whole event
wake me when I am done!

why are my sentences uncharacteristically characteristic?
because i was up until 05.30 this morning painting.
so that you can watch me do things i have already done, that’s why.
so that you can watch something coming into being that already exists.

the old birth control discussion all over again

the reason this confirmation comes your way 2 weeks ahead of time is that the collector’s vinyl-edition sold out way quicker than expected,
and there is a waiting list of ferocious fans who would love to take your place in the queue if you hesitate.

why waste time chasing strange ears around with you guys already here?
you have found me. You have supported me (stranger than fiction, and for reasons known only to yourselves). This record’s for you.

love the fact that any message i write is regarded by some as potential poetry
beauty in the eye of the beholder and all that…well, that only makes you more beautiful!

time to get to work now
gather round my friendlies…

i will be kicking off the new year off with some news on the musical front especially for y’all. you should probably start looking backwards to it already.

any engineer would tell you this bird’s flying days are over,
but I beg to differ;
I like to look at it as an object which has yet to realize its full potential

who will turn
these fragments of my life
into legibility?

I walk among you, recognised
but virtually unknown
famously celebrated
but seen by some

because eyes know
because these eyes have memory
because
without it, it’s just energy

for it is not for us to know
what started long before
and ends well after

as we piece together moments
into mosaic dreams-
made from broken vases

so if my history
is of no importance
my story
may one day be

this sentence contains nine syllables

he is me
but I am not
him yet

you are now
and those other
times
are running elsewhere

I’m a toothier, inhumane wit meanie.

what cd?
oh – THAT cd!

me? i am just an emotional striptease. you knew that.

the new magne f album is nearly completed. it will be released….probably sometime after xmas.

on behalf of the many perfected versions of myself; thx!

you may soon all officially add ‘installation artist’ to your respective resumées.

in case you were wondering – the dolls keep coming, the sick grin on my face ever widening. so many me’s, so little time…

yes, mags is full of hot air.
the ego has landed.
blow me up scotty

now since I know there is sometimes a difference between thinking something and doing it (uh…there is, isn’t there?), this message is to remind the undecided to jump in.

all I need
is this thermos…
and this chair

now get going and forget this crap about having no talent – talent is a form of intelligence…are you calling yourself stupid?!?

in order to avoid even more confusion; anything from six inches to six feet is welcome

This is definitely an offer you can refuse. As the smarter ones among you no doubt have figured out, this is merely a clever ploy to make you all work for me for free.

ooiooueea

I e ou ou i y a

ths chmcl bnd

smthng xtrrdnr

forget sea & sand,
forget sky and ground
unless; looking at the sky
you understand the sea

in this maze I call my own
there’s no place left to go-
no place I haven’t been

I mistook myself
for someone I once knew
I’ve been wrong
about a lot of things
one of which was you

like it or not
who gives a fuck
I don’t know how or why
but if you wish to know
you’ll have to really try

you only look
for things that you can use
and then concoct
something wildly different
out of what you got

like these hands
your shape is all they remember

our loss is losing you
holding up a mirror
to our ugliness

but secrets will reveal
what time won’t tell
tedium succeed
where ferver once failed

I was monster
now
merely minion

If you need another friend
ask, don’t steal
if you do not understand
what I am saying
think, don’t feel

I am still talking to you
even though you’ve gone away
every day
I talk to you
I still think of what to say

our lives interwoven
our features interfaced
our voices in unison
our dreams interlaced

you can catch it
as it comes towards you
catch it as it moves away

http://www.blacksmoke.org/gallery/project?page=3

no fuss nor strain
no pressure or pain
free from
unbearable tenderness

you will stand your ground
convincingly
if pushed
but underneath
you flee

finish the end
and be done

silence is not personal
we just fill it
with our own insecurities

silence is not personal
we just fill it
with our own insecurities

wishing you all
had a merry kizmaz

the more you believe
the less it is real

oh healthy forest
your cousins are sick
all over the world

I knew you
while we were still strangers

we all battle demons
whatever their names

we all wrestle with corruption
one way or anotherwe all fall short
of expectation

you don’t know
the half of it
and if you think you do
it is only because
your mind is only matched
by your
mechanisms of self-defense

it is looking at old photographs
that we see who we really are

thoughts are like masturbation
writing like making babies

broken silences
like shattered china

opposite to her
I can’t do wrong for doing right
even as I try
with all my might

hide behind your alias
all you want
it will not make the rest of you
disappear

the preachers have
installed creditcard terminals
for easier collection

would not blame the shark
for doing what it was born to do
would you?

how she is hurt and brave
in the face of truth
for she believed love
when it told her to wait
and so she waits

akk, oh vey, phew, oh lordie
and the like-
it’s in vain
unless you are willing
to change

the beginning is over
the fade out
soon to commence

winter has turned
its back to the sun
and a blind eye
to the spring that will come

as long as you are you
I don’t care about the rest

be cursed, Cassandra
so that even you (or I)
shall doubt that this is real

if you want to be in the middle of nowhere
this is where to do it

nothing
we can learn to live with
nothing

no one
holds my silence
like you do
no one

hard to know if it was your high expectations or my great(er) disillusionment
with myself that made me stay away/come back (your choice)

shhh (wow!)

begin to believe
your doubt
of what’s never been

of all the songs
I never wrote
you were always
destined for success

my secret
is something you tell
only one person at a time

my ovaries
are merely in my head
but the worry
of a barren time to come
plays part in my desire
to nurture every line

self-importance knows no boundary

but we shall only know the glory
of the few combinations we pursued

if I changed
everything about you
and turned you into
someone else
would I love you the same?

you have seen
a version of the truth of me
but does the truth
have versions?

and stop pandering
your thoughts
are important enough without it

every road from here
leads away

do not make the mistake
of asking what I mean

but neither of us have
the stomach or strength
to reinvent their purpose
to suit our lives

how can the appropriate words
be so excruciatingly difficult
to find

I read your face as landscape
not portrait
a place to see, somewhere to be

giving in
is an integral part
of every fight

as I look out across
the gray slab of water
in crossfilter morning light
a wingless muse calls my name

if I could beat sense
into a head
yours would be
my first choice

you are a caterpillar of wish

If I ever see your words within a five-mile radius, I will seek a restraining order.

a pocketful of change
for a lifetime of chaste

I want to make you smile on buses
and laugh out loud
with strangers looking on
to have a fucking fit
in the middle of a crowd

for nothing lies
more convincingly
than a syrupy tongue

but art is like a child, my dear
faithful to its own truth

our past has changed colour
so many times now
and we have wasted
every chance to meet

sweet ruin,
love not only conquers all
it shatters what it touches

lose the map
we’d get lost
a lot faster

they ought to build a church
a congregation for your thoughts

this is you, this is yours
you are home

guard your heart against hope
take your mind off the mess you’re in

…but I did appreciate
so many of you coming to the shows!

your gucci eyes
match your wallpaper smile

(illegal to import ‘tsks’ – and rightly so…except if you buy an old piano – in which case it is your solemn duty to play something beautiful enough to make the elephant forgive)

your strength
is you remember
mine
that I forget

your world colonized
by the empire of me

the tattoo on my soul is you

the things we love destroying most
are things we helped create

and anyway I am a better human being with a hangover

there is a rent
in your world
leading to
another
you

according to brodsky, a tear is a consequence of having to let beauty go.
that is what I love about the fall. that and the blue sky.

maybe life is something someone can make sense of

we are not measured by what we get
but how we deal with what we lose
we’re defined by opportunities we threw away
and the mistakes we learn to use

we are almost 80% water and still we are thirsty

memory makes my mouth
kiss itself with conviction

the worst part
is the memories
we will never share

(I love the English language – just wish it liked me)

no thought a train
no day the same

some decisions are made
from the singing of the blood in our veins

but recent times don’t stand up to
the way you were before

words
to veil and seduce
words
to beguile and confuse

you will not see me
but you will see
the jet trails of my escape

Oh yes, poetry is suffering on the altar of prosaic summer activities (or was that prozaic slumber activities), but then you all seem so informed it’s hard to keep up with my own life…

Even if the numbers dont add up,
you will find much potential in the calculation.

your mind has sprung a leak
like an old boat

forget the difference friend;
forgetters give what forgivers get

for we are mummified
and will turn to sand
in each others arms
if careless

the headsman in me
the axe in you

fast forward past these inbetweens

memory is meant to make stronger
not wipe your sense of self out

here is 2002 kudos in return for all the kind words
divvy them amongst you in a friendly fashion

and who am I to tell you what to do
I am just as fucken stuck as you

I immediately had a vision of the ensuing culture that would emerge and I liked it.

Everyone says fuck you
but no one keeps their word

in fact a lot of the first mixes michael did was better with hindsight,
but at the time and for some reason, I was cocksure.
I simply knew best – now I just know better

My own little army of wordspies out there scouring the field!

the poet is a vulture
the vulture is a poet

Every book I read I mark every word or line that triggers something in me, and when I finish the book I write them all down in my notebook filed under “lines from literature” so I know where they came from. A book that doesn’t give me lines is not a good book…in my book.

“Life has enough torturers as it is, without you going around moonlighting as a Grand Inquisitor against yourself”

how will I know myself
if need be

I will steal that line
and give it back to you as mine

theres nothing
that can match your rainbow smile

you, my tongue-tied friend

wooden conversation in concrete & glass surroundings

my body is poisoned
by the presence of you

….

Naturally I was curious as to your comments about ‘black and blue’ demo, but you all know what I like now: undiluted praise.

Is it a demo, is it a track in the making, is it a finished masterpiece..? Who cares, it’s music.

these are the roadsigns
leading bck to where we were

you never thought that
keeping my limp body afloat
would put you in harms way

music is the reason we are all here, innit?

this world is ink
and I’m a man of paper

Please be advised that I did in fact not compose this literary masterpiece, but simply stole and copy/pasted it here – under the guise of everyone’s write to borrow ideas from each other.

everyone in the world is a friend
you just don’t want to know

Limitations are road-signs…not the velvet rope of some VIP-section in your mind where you cannot go. And anyway, they are never in the same place when you come back to them again.

always forever but never like this
there’s a dot of blackness in the blue of your bliss

I now officially have more than 300 friends in here – and here was me downsizing the department; not returning calls, generally being rude or unresponsive, making inappropriate and/or unintelligible comments to everyone – and it was working too!

I have been known to stick my neck out once or twice, and I won’t be surprised if I do it again, but these periods are invariably followed by the slowburning acid of self-scrutiny and maudlin moments of doubt…why are the stairs up from the basement getting longer each time?

don’t make it less
than what it was
by pretending it was more
than what it seemed

we struggle to sit upright
for the obvious reason;
we’re too full of beans

Some points are strengthened by being made over and over. I don’t know if any of it is important, and I don’t care if it is any good, but at least it’s not trying to hide anything – it’s not trying to score points. I’m proud of that much.

“Sometimes something comes along that just leads you somewhere you did not expect to go and you have very little or no control over it – disasters come wrapped up as gifts, and gifts come disguised as disasters.”