Träumen in der Morgendämmerung

Träumen in der Morgendämmerung
A Journey Through the Pastoral Psyche of German Progressive Folk

What will you do, God, when I die? 

I am your jar (if cracked, I lie?) 

Your well-spring (if the well go dry?) 

I am your craft, your vesture I— 

You lose your purport, losing me. 

When I go, your cold house will be 

Empty of words that made it sweet. 

I am the sandals your bare feet 

Will seek and long for, wearily. 

Your cloak will fall from aching bones. 

Your glance, that my warm cheeks have cheered 

As with a cushion long endeared, 

Will wonder at a loss so weird; 

And, when the sun has disappeared, 

Lie in the lap of alien stones. 

What will you do, God? I am feared. 

Vineyard, pasture, old apple orchard, 

field that misses no spring, 

fig tree that even in ground as hard as marble 

bears fruit a hundredfold: 

Scent exudes from Your round branches. 

And You do not ask if I am watchful; 

fearless, dissolved in juices, 

Your depths rise quietly past me.

Rainer Maria Rilke (1875 – 1926) 

From: The Book of Monastic Life (1899) 

Translated by B. Deutsch, A. Yarmolinsky, and C.L. Cingolani 

“Träumen in der Morgendämmerung” (Dreaming at Dawn) is not merely a compilation; it is an invitation to drift through the mist-veiled landscapes of German progressive folk and kosmische music, where poetry, protest, and pastoral beauty merge in luminous harmony.

Opening with the melancholic introspection of Hölderlin’s “Waren wir”, the journey begins in the half-light of memory and reflection. From there, we set out with Witthüser & Westrupp, whose warm acoustic textures and gentle psychedelia in “Lasst uns auf die Reise gehn” encourage us to wander, spiritually untethered.

The spectral reverie continues with Bröselmaschine’s “Gedanken”, a raga-tinged meditation that blurs the lines between inner thought and outer space. Carol of Harvest follows with “Put on Your Nightcap”, an English-language lullaby draped in melancholic electric folk, further deepening the dream.

A playful interlude arrives in Ougenweide’s “Der Fuchs und der Rabe”, whose medieval folk-rock retelling of Aesop's fable injects whimsy and charm. Emtidi’s “Touch the Sun” then lifts us into celestial realms with crystalline vocals and synth-laced serenity, before Gila’s “This Morning” steers us into a darker, more experimental awakening; quietly intense and emotionally raw.

Zupfgeigenhansel’s “Es dunkelt schon in der Heide” roots us again in folk tradition, a haunting evocation of twilight fading into night. Hölderlin’s “Requiem für einen Wicht” follows, echoing with poetic gravitas, a lament not just for the small or forgotten, but for the fragile spirit of a fading era.

The penultimate stretch brings social commentary wrapped in theatrical funk-folk via Floh de Cologne’s “Sei ruhig, Fliessbandbaby”, a sharp yet playful critique of industrial life. Emma Myldenberger’s “Unter der Linden” then unfurls like an ancient ballad rediscovered, its winding woodwinds and modal melodies casting a spell of tranquil nostalgia.

Finally, Denise Krüger’s “Hier lebst du” offers a quiet conclusion; an intimate, grounded reflection on presence and place, sung as if whispered into the first light of dawn.

Together, these twelve pieces form a lucid, undulating soundscape; a dreamscape where the utopian visions, earthy harmonies, and poetic souls of 1970s German folk-prog commune. It is a world best entered slowly, with open ears and a quiet heart.

LSD Studies on Artistic Creativity

When I was young, I remember covetously looking up on the bookshelf at my grandparent's house and, amongst their rather fine collection of Reader's Digest subscription tomes, was a book by Gordon Rattray-Taylor called the Science of Life: A Pictorial History of Biology. The first time they allowed me to look in it, I was utterly wrapped by the pictures, photos and stories within. I later became a biologist, and I sometimes think without this early influence, would I have even gone in that direction? Incidentally, my grandparents eventually gave me their copy of the book and I am pleaseed to say it is still a treasured possession. In The Science of Life is a vivid description of 1950's psychological experiments into artistic creativity, which I have summarised below. 

Beginning in 1954, psychiatrist Oscar Janiger embarked on a pioneering study to understand how LSD influenced artistic creativity. Over seven years, he administered the drug to more than 100 professional artists, who collectively produced over 250 drawings and paintings under its effects. One such experiment, believed to be part of Janiger’s research, involved an unidentified artist who was given two 50-microgram doses of LSD, spaced an hour apart. The artist was then asked to sketch a series of portraits of the doctor who had administered the drug.

Over an eight-hour period, the artist created nine portraits, each capturing the shifting perceptions induced by LSD. As they worked, they described their evolving experience, offering a rare window into the psychedelic state and its impact on the creative process. Despite years of research, Janiger later reflected that no scientific consensus had been reached on the core elements of the LSD experience or the precise mechanisms by which the drug could enhance creativity. “Even 45 years after I started my studies,” he noted, “no scientific consensus has emerged clearly defining the core elements of the LSD state. Nor has research illuminated the specific mechanisms by which LSD can be used to stimulate creativity.” Still, he hoped that future studies would build upon his work, ensuring that his early explorations were just the beginning, not the end. You can see Janiger's experiment unfold below:

20 Minutes After First Dose:
Artist Claims to Feel Normal

85 Minutes After First Dose:
I can see you clearly. I’m having a little trouble controlling this pencil.

2 hours 30 minutes after first dose:
I feel as if my consciousness is situated in the part of my body that’s now active;  
my hand, my elbow… my tongue.

2 hours 32 minutes after first dose:
I’m trying another drawing…
The outline of my hand is going weird too.
It’s not a very good drawing is it?

2 hours 35 minutes after first dose:
I’ll do a drawing in one flourish… without stopping… one line, no break!

2 hours 45 minutes after first dose: 
[Agitated and changing medium to Tempera]
I am… everything is… changed… they’re calling…
your face… interwoven… who is…

4 hours 25 minutes after first dose:
[After taking a break, changes to pen and water colour]
This will be the best drawing, like the first one, only better.

5 hours 45 minutes after first dose:
[Holding a crayon]
I think it’s starting to wear off.
This pencil is mighty hard to hold.

8 hours after first dose:

Final drawing. The intoxication has worn off.

References:

Rattray-Taylor, G. (1967). The Science of Life: A Pictorial History of Biology. Panther. 

https://www.learning-mind.com/nine-drawings-experiment/

https://www.openculture.com/2024/05/artist-draws-9-portraits-on-lsd-during-1950s-research-experiment.html

Dr. Feelgood's Christmas Nut Roast

There is nothing more romantic than spending your first Christmas together as a couple. And there is nothing more romantic than making a vegetarian nut roast for your ehefrau. Things go a bit yumpy though when you put on a Dr. Feelgood album whilst you're cooking and realise that after 2 hours on loop, he has invited himself for Christmas dinner! This blog discusses the tribulations of making a complex nut roast on Christmas day, and how the redemptive power of blues-rock can overcome any culinary vexation.

Dr. Feelgood are a British pub rock band formed in 1971 on Canvey Island, Essex. Known for their raw, high-energy blend of rock and rhythm and blues, they stood out with a no-frills, working-class attitude. The classic lineup featured Lee Brilleaux’s powerful vocals and Wilko Johnson’s sharp, choppy guitar, creating their signature sound. Early albums like Down by the Jetty (1975) and Malpractice (1975) captured their live intensity, while their 1976 live album Stupidity reached number one in the UK. Pioneers of pub rock, Dr. Feelgood helped pave the way for punk with their stripped-back approach. Despite lineup changes and Brilleaux’s early death in 1994, the band continues to perform, keeping their legacy alive.

So what's the connection between Dr. Feelgood and nut roast? Well, practically none at all! The quirky, tenuous relationship comes down to the cultural and countercultural waves from which they originated. Dr. Feelgood's gritty, no-frills blues-rock, came out of the 1970s UK music scene, embodying a raw, working-class energy. Meanwhile, nut roast, equally gritty the way I make it, became a staple in the growing vegetarian movement of the same era, fuelled by environmental awareness, ethical eating, and countercultural rejection of industrial meat production. Both are, in their own ways, symbols of rebellion against the mainstream; Dr. Feelgood shaking up overproduced rock with their stripped-down sound, and nut roast offering a hearty, meat-free alternative to the traditional British roast dinner. They reflect two sides of the same cultural coin: music and food as expressions of identity, resistance, and reinvention in 1970s Britain. Ok?

This is Dr. Feelgood circa 1978, waiting for Belfast's first (and only) all-day nut roast diner to open so they could plot the overthrow of imperialist society by breaking the stranglehold of the meat industry on agriculture. 

I will now attend to my own personal act of rebellion by admitting I sought a vegan recipe on the BBC Good Food website, and after cooking the nut roast, watching it crumble in front of my very eyes, decided from that day forward to include an egg for binding and in future to extol the virtues of eating vegetarian, rather than vegan, nut roast. Screw you BBC for your deception. Below is the modified recipe which includes an egg. If you want to fight and die on the hill of veganism, then I recommend you omit the egg and bring a straw to your Christmas dinner party because that's the only way you'll manage to eat it.

Ingredients

1 onion, finely chopped
2 celery stalks, finely diced
1 leek (about 100g/3½oz trimmed weight), thinly sliced
2 carrots, coarsely grated (approximately 150g/5½oz)
2 garlic cloves, minced
300g/10½oz mixed nuts such as walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds, Brazil nuts or pecans
180g/6oz cooked chestnuts, roughly chopped
75g/2½oz dried cranberries
4 tablespoons cashew butter
1 vegan vegetable stock cube
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus extra for greasing
4 tablespoons plant-based milk such as almond or soya
finely grated zest of 1 lemon
20g/¾oz fresh parsley, finely chopped
1 teaspoon sea salt
freshly ground black pepper

Method

Firstly, you will need to cook the chestnuts. Roasting (the oven method) gives them that rich, toasty flavour and slightly crisp shell.

• Soak the chestnuts for 15-30 minutes before roasting.
• Preheat oven to 200°C (400°F).
• Score the shells: Use a sharp knife to cut a small cross or slit on the flat side of each chestnut. This is crucial — it lets steam escape and stops them from exploding.
• Arrange on a baking tray: Place them cut-side up.
• Roast for 20-25 minutes until the shells peel back and the flesh is tender.
• Cradle the roasted nuts in a tea towel for 10 minutes to allow them to steam/ cool
• Peel while warm, as they’re easier to work with when hot.
• Chestnuts are much easier to peel when they’re still warm, so work quickly — and if they cool down too much, you can pop them back into warm water or the oven to loosen the skins again.

Place the mixed nuts and stock cube into a food processor and pulse until the nuts are finely chopped — you want small, even pieces rather than a fine powder. If you don’t have a food processor, you can chop the nuts by hand, aiming for a similar fine consistency.

Preheat the oven to 200C/180C Fan/Gas 6. Grease a 900g/2lb loaf tin with a little olive oil, then line the base with baking paper to help the loaf release easily after baking.

Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan over medium heat. Add the chopped onion, celery, leek, and grated carrot. Cook gently for around 15-20 minutes, stirring regularly, until the vegetables are softened and reduced somewhat. Stir in the garlic and cook for another 30 seconds.

Transfer the cooked vegetables to a large mixing bowl. Add the chopped nuts, chestnuts, cranberries, parsley, lemon zest, plant milk, and salt. Grind in plenty of black pepper. Mix thoroughly and set briefly to one side.

In a separate bowl, stir in the cashew butter (I used peanut butter), almond milk and vegetable stock, as well as the morally troublesome whisked egg, ensuring the ingredients are fully incorporated and adopts a fine paste. This will help the loaf hold together nicely when sliced.

Now mix the paste and vegetables/ nuts from the large mixing bowl, until everything is evenly coated.

Spoon the mixture into the prepared tin, pressing it down firmly with the back of a spoon to compact it well. Cover with foil and bake for 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes, remove the foil and bake for another 20 minutes, or until the top is lightly golden and the loaf is heated through.

Once baked, remove the tin from the oven and leave it to rest for 5 minutes. Run a knife around the edges to loosen, then carefully turn the loaf out onto a serving board or platter. Slice into thick portions and serve warm with vegan gravy or your favourite sides.

Against Nature: J.K Huysmans (1884)

I recently read Joris-Karl Huysmans wonderfully decadent, extravagant masterpiece Against Nature (or, Against the Grain, translated from A Rebours), which has some of the most opulent Bohemian prose I have ever encountered. Although it is likely not a book suited to everyone's taste, it imparts a darkly enervated, droll aesthetic which is only paralleled by the crooked imaginings of Poe, and so is most at home on these pages. In the same week, and quite unconnectedly, I discovered that Alfred Hitchcock partnered with Salvador Dali in his 1945 film Spellbound, as artist and set designer in the film's psychoanalytic dream sequence.* For some reason, these two cultural phenomena have become linked in my mind, and I present below scenes from Dali's dream sequence, and paragraphs from Against Nature; a section where the reclusive anti-hero Des Esseintes over-indulges his latest obsession in exotic plants...

"Last of all, when he had sufficiently savoured the sight, he hurriedly scattered about exotic perfumes, exhausted his vaporizers, concentrated his strongest essences, gave the rein to all his balms, and lo! the stifling closeness of the room was filled with an atmosphere, maddening and sublime, breathing powerful influences, impregnating with raging alcoholates an artificial breeze,--an atmosphere unnatural, yet delightful, paradoxical in its union of the allspice of the Tropics, the pungent savours of the sandalwood of China and the hediosmia of Japan with native odours of jasmine, hawthorn and vervain, forcing, to grow together, in despite of seasons and climates, trees of diverse essences, flowers of colours and fragrances the most opposite, creating by the blending and shock of all these tones one common perfume, unknown, unforeseen, extraordinary, wherein re-appeared at intervals as a persistent refrain, the decorative phrase of the opening, the odour of the broad meadows breathed over by the lilacs and the lindens.

Suddenly a sharp agony assailed him; it felt as though a centre-bit were boring into his temples. He opened his eyes, to find himself once more in the middle of his study, seated before his working table; he got up and walked painfully, half-stunned, to the window, which he threw part open. A current of fresh air sweetened the stifling atmosphere that enveloped him; he marched up and down the room to recover the proper use of his limbs, going to and fro, his eyes fixed on the ceiling on which crabs and seaweed powdered with sea salt stood out in relief from a grained background, yellow as the sand of a beach. A similar design decorated the plinths bordering the panels, which in their turn were covered with Japanese crape, a watery green in colour and slightly waved to imitate the ripple of a wind-blown river, while down the gentle current floated a rose leaf round which frolicked a swarm of little fishes dashed in with two strokes of the pen.

But his eyes were still heavy; he left off pacing the short length of floor between the font and the bath and leant his elbows on the window sill. Presently his dizziness ceased, and after carefully recorking the bottles of scents and essences, he seized the opportunity to tidy his apparatus for making up the face,--his paints and powders and the like. He had not touched these things since his arrival at Fontenay, and he was almost astonished now at the sight of this collection once visited by so many women. One on top of the other, phials and porcelain pots littered the table confusion. 

Here was a china box, of the green sort, containing schnouda, that marvellous white cream which, once spread on the cheeks, changes under the influence of the air to a tender pink, then to a scarlet so natural that it gives an absolutely convincing illusion of a complexion mantling with red blood; there, jars incrusted with mother-o'-pearl held Japanese gold and Athens green, coloured like the wing of the cantharides beetle, golds and greens that blend into a deep purple directly they are moistened; beside pots full of filbert paste, of serkis of the harem, of emulsions of Cashmere lilies, of lotions of strawberry and elderfiower for the skin, beside little phials of solutions of India-ink and rose-water for the eyes, lay a host of different instruments, of mother-o'-pearl, of ivory and of silver, mixed up with dainty brushes for the teeth and gums,--pincers, scissors, strigils, stumps, crimpers, powder-puffs, back-scratchers, patches and files. He handled all this elaborate apparatus, bought in former days to please a mistress who found an ineffable pleasure in certain aromatics and certain balms, an ill-balanced, nerve-ridden woman, who loved to have her nipples macerated in scents, but who only really experienced a genuine and over-mastering ecstasy when her head was tickled with a comb and she could, in the act of being caressed by a lover, breathe the smell of chimney soot, of wet plaster from a house building in rainy weather, or of dust churned up by the heavy thunder drops of a summer storm."

* Interestingly, these eyeball scenes are similar to the Eyes from Metropolis, by Fritz Lang (1927) and I wonder if Dali was influenced by this technique. I say 'wonder' because with any other artist I would be certain it was an act of plagiarism, but Dali was such a creative force that I expect he could quite independently come up with such an idea. 

Annular Eclipse and a Rainbow

Following the stunning success of my solar eclipse photography of April 2015, I keenly embraced the possibility of catching the 2021 Annular Eclipse. However, it proved difficult and instead I ended up with a bunch of cutting room floor shots, which I gave a psychogoggelieic treatment. Rainbow turned out OK though. 

Christmas Through A Wineglass

“December, in my memory, is white as Lapland, though there were no reindeer. But there were cats. Patient, cold and callous, our hands wrapped in socks, we waited to snowball the cats. Sleek and long as jaguars and horrible-whiskered, spitting and snarling, they would slink and sidle over the white back-garden walls, and the lynx-eyed hunters, Jim and I, fur-capped and moccasined trappers from Hudson Bay, off Mumbles Road, would hurl our deadly snowballs at the green of their eyes.”

“All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged, fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find.”

“Our snow was not only shaken from whitewash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely white-ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunderstorm of white, torn Christmas cards.”

Quotes from: A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas (1952).

First Aid Kit: "Wolf" and "Stay Gold"

First Aid Kit is a Swedish folk duo that consists of the sisters Klara (vocals/guitar) and Johanna Söderberg (vocals/keyboards/Autoharp/bass guitar).  In 2008, they became internationally known by their YouTube video cover of the Fleet Foxes's song "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song" that gained significant Internet popularity. They have now released three albums, two EPs and a handful of singles. In 2015 they were nominated for a Brit Award as one of the five best international groups. "Wolf" is from their 2012 album The Lion's Roar, and "Stay Gold" is from their eponymous album of 2015,

Mazzy Star: Fade Into You (1993)

OK so blogging this I got carried away and had to include Into Dust from the same album.

If psychedelic music had a voice in '90s post-punk, Mazzy Star may have been its strongest reincarnation. That doesn't necessarily mean that fans of the Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead will find the band to their liking, however. Mazzy Star much preferred the dark side of psychedelia, as exemplified by the most distended tracks of the Doors and the Velvet Underground. Their fuzzy guitar workouts and plaintive folky compositions are often suffused in a dissociative ennui that is very much of the '90s, however much their textures may recall the drug-induced states of vintage psychedelia.

Although Mazzy Star was nominally a full band, they were basically the core duo of guitarist David Roback and singer Hope Sandoval with backing musicians. Roback boasts a long history in the paisley underground, with the Rain Parade and Opal. He came across Sandoval after hearing a tape she had made as part of a folky duo, Going Home. (The Going Home album that Roback subsequently produced remains unissued.) Sandoval ended up replacing Kendra Smith on Opal's final tours. After Opal dissolved, Roback and Sandoval continued to work together as Mazzy Star, and released their first album for Rough Trade, She Hangs Brightly, in 1990.

Rough Trade's U.S. branch went under shortly afterwards, but luckily Mazzy Star were picked up by Capitol, who kept the debut in print and issued their follow-up, 1993's So Tonight That I Might See from which the tracks above are taken. There isn't much to differentiate the two albums, though that's not necessarily a criticism. Both share similar strengths and weaknesses: appealingly dreamy and atmospheric arrangements, rambling distorted guitar workouts, and lyrics that mix the haunting and the meaninglessly vague. Tonight That I Might See had been around for about a year before it suddenly got hot, reaching the Top 40, and spinning off a small hit single, "Fade Into You." Even in the wake of this surprise success, Roback and Sandoval remained as enigmatic and aloof as their music, rarely submitting to interviews, and offering mysterious, unhelpful replies when journalists did manage to talk with them.

Text from All Music Mazzy Star Biography

The Cyrkle: The Visit (1967)

The Cyrkle was a short-lived American rock and roll band active in the mid-1960s. The group charted two Top 40 hits, "Red Rubber Ball," and "Turn-Down Day". I don't really rate these ditties, they are attempts at yuk commercial psych-sploitation jinge jangle wibble wobble. This track however, is a different prospect. If it is elevator music, we may call it "Jacob's Elevator".

The band was formed by guitarists and lead singers Don Dannemann and Tom Dawes (who also played bass guitar), who met while studying at Lafayette College in Easton, Pennsylvania. Dannemann enlisted in the US Coast Guard in 1966. The other members were Earle Pickens on keyboards and Marty Fried on drums. They were originally a "frat rock" band called The Rhondells but were later discovered and managed by Brian Epstein, who was best known as manager of The Beatles. Epstein found out about this band when his business partner, New York attorney Nathan Weiss, heard them in Atlantic City, New Jersey, on Labor Day of 1965. Epstein became their manager and renamed them. John Lennon provided the unique spelling of their new name, which is a reference to the circular roundabout known as Centre Square, located in downtown Easton. They were produced by John Simon.

"The Visit" is the 2nd track from the 2nd album Neon (1967) released on the Columbia Label. The album was re- released on CD in 2001 by Sundazed.

Credits
Arranged By – The Cyrkle
Arranged By, Producer – John Simon
Brass, Strings, Woodwind – The International Brotherhood Of Brindle Makers Marching Band & Chowder Society
Drums, Tambourine, Finger Cymbals, Triangle, Gong, Vocals – Marty*
Guitar, Bass, Sitar, Vocals – Tom*
Guitar, Vocals – Don*
Keyboards – John Simon, Michael*
Photography By [Cover Photo] – Bob Cato

Good Biography of The Cyrkle

Debbie Harry in Hippier Times (1968)

In 1968 Blondie's Debbie Harry was plying her trade with Psych Folk Band Wind in the Willows; the UK Pressing of this LP is incredibly hard to find today. Some of the rare single releases associated with this LP have also been added.

Side 1
1. Moments Spent
2. Uptown Girl
3. So Sad (To Watch Good Love Go Bad)
4. My Uncle Used To Love Me But She Died
5. There Is But One Truth, Daddy

Side 2
1. The Friendly Lion
2. Park Avenue Blues
3. Djini Judy
4. Little People
5. She's Fantastic And She's Yours
6. Wheel Of Changes

Wind in the Willows an American band which included Deborah Harry as a vocalist. The band took its name from British writer Kenneth Grahame's, The Wind in the Willows, a classic of children's literature. The band's only album, the self-titled The Wind in the Willows barely entered the US charts #195 let alone the UK charts. The band broke up shortly after failing to achieve commercial success. The following year Artie Kornfeld, the producer of the album, went on to be the music producer of the Woodstock festival in 1969. Debbie Harry went on to join The Stilettos in 1974 and other bands until subsequently achieving success in 1976 with Blondie.

Wind in the Willows recorded a second album which was never released. The whereabouts of the tapes are unknown. According to Cathay Che's biography on Harry, it has never surfaced.

Turns out Wind in the Willows were not he only 60's Psych-folk-rock outfit to reference Kenneth Grahame's book. Pink Floyd used the title of Chapter 7 for their album Piper At The Gates of Dawn. 

"The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spellbound by exciting stories; and when tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at last to the insatiable sea."

Kenneth Grahame

The Wind in the Willows

More Spindilytic Psychogoggelia