In 15 years of playing together, there have been a lot of course corrections.
The straight altuelle one is: Back to the roots.
Technique has become a lot in the course of time, but through the experiments with the synthesizer sounds it was exaggerated – and so it became obvious visible: the directness gets lost.
In the future, there will be no more synthetic sounds and no loops – so easy is renewal !
The consequence will be clearly audible: the cuts will be shorter and less complex. The multi-dimensional atmospheres and the “epic breadth”, which is now only conditionally possible, will be absent as well as the loops, which were not seldom piece-building and welded together many a cut and gave it his face. But the cuts will be more focused on the core – the musical impulse.
The attention that the operation of the technique requires shall flow back into the creative process – that’s the idea!
From the here and now in blind trust head first fall over and pick up the impulse even before becoming conscious, thus withdrawing the evaluation to unfiltered direct and fresh to express it
– that’s the dream!

1st movement: Hovering – 2nd movement: Landing – 3rd movement: Evaporation

Seriously and thoughtfully it begins. . .sinning about passions, life-aims, and holy dreams, and concludes this observation painfully sober and sad.
The hot rage about missed opportunities, wrong decisions and lack of faith unloads itself in a small outrage . . . then it becomes bitchy and Funky.
In the last part the hot anger first changes into cold, then into the worst possible: indifference. Cool and unaffected, he strolls away. . .

There’s someone who has turned the time. . .summertime, wintertime, clocktime, time of subjectivity. . .
Since the time of human thought, the sun often rises gorgeous and golden …and gives us the light that we need so much. And, it connects us with everything that was before us.
At the end of the play one screams terribly. . . , presumably because he lost this connection.
This is a bow to where we came from, before it grew loud and colorful. . .

The sound of a sitar leads into the oriental space through which slowly a caravan passes through the barren, hot desert. . . Whether it is a sand storm, or a monstrous, biting insect, what they meet there, I can not say. . .

http://buduclan.de/music/music1/mp3/Kiityhasarubber-Ses246-300815-M-Mix01-MasOz.mp3 . . .diese Kiity ! . . .is a robber, . . .has no lover. . .( but ) has a rubber. . .