Panorama views, bar areas, hotel rooms. The same white sheets are waiting at home. All these rooms look like a promise, yet I keep the curtains shut. Later, I watch the world turn small, then I nod off as soon as in the air. Nine-hundred and ninety-nine other people and I, on a spaceship towards the heavens. It must be a little bit weird, meeting another human.
And it never rains above the clouds, and I lack proper sleep. New people in same clothes, different tongues, different languages. As soon as the music plays it feels like home. This is the shit that I live for. And the shit that I die for are the weekends. I love the food, yet all I can think of is to brush my teeth, to fix my hair. It'll end by Monday, with regrets, bad breath, and mint ice tea.
Too much perfume, because it'll mix with the smoke anyway. Pretty faces, Whisky-Cola, Cola and red wine. I'm only here this once, like an angel, like a ghost. These people aren't here to remember, they're here to forget, this much I knew. I wish for company, for someone to talk to. I have so much to tell, so much to say—but the laughter is too loud to talk.
The silence before the storm, the stampede, the thunder. The beeping noise that keeps on ringing. So few hours left to get to the airport, I wish I made more pictures. The feeling fades like a scent, so does the memory. This was not meant to last, none of it ever was. It's like you never knew. The music doesn't stop, it's only interrupted by the week.
The grind's so different, nothing to relate to. Early mornings, bright when warm, and dark when cold—still nothing to relate to, though I prefer the cold. I miss taxi nights, overpriced shots, cheap beers—and I never know if I prefer going there or actually being there. But I hate the walks home. And the pretty faces, they keep coming, no matter the digits. All I have is games.
Rivers, lawns, and history—underneath, no longer above. Lanterns, windows, and reflections. And I love the neon lights, but I hate to see the bars go. Dressed in dawn, offering her service past the costume shop. I tell her I preferred fake fur. And that you have never been so pretty. And that you have never been so beautiful. Because when things cast no shadow, it means there's no light.
credits
released December 21, 2020
Written and recorded in Berlin during the Covid lock-down in 2020.
Written, arranged, produced, and mixed by Christoph Grosty.
Mastered by Linn Elisabet.
Cover photography by Nina Klein.
Artwork by Christoph Grosty with components by Angela Klein.
Non-Print label head and producer Głós wants to create something outside of the conforming realm of Techno. He has already
reinvented his early work through his first album, and his lucid yet on-point productions continue to reveal a rarefied character....more
supported by 8 fans who also own “When Things Cast No Shadow”
The release is as divine as the title, which makes us proud saying "We were there when it all started". Luigi Tozzi, you are the "Feathered Serpent", a king, sorcerer and priest in our hypnotic techno temple 🙌❤️ Hypnotic Techno Circle
supported by 7 fans who also own “When Things Cast No Shadow”
This musician are adding sounds by track progressing. That's Theory on the DTM, but Illvia's choice are much Cinematic. A Bassline started from little wave, adding water flow(I remembered Squarepusher - Bubble Life), shorebirds sings, at last that reached to the beach, or became to dynamic Drum and Bass(Track 2, Sea of Crisis). I thought Nirmala are something shoreline country existing on Illvia's dream.
Very imaginative(like Melorman - Waves Remixes), chilling Ambient / IDM for the Summer :) SomaFM.com listener
For this LP, Formen modified old 16bit effects units which were then cascaded via internal patch points to develop a glitchy sound. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 18, 2021
supported by 7 fans who also own “When Things Cast No Shadow”
We have an urgent request for Luigi Tozzi, hoping he will notice it: would you please be kind enough to stop being so talented? "Wadjet" is too much that our hearts can handle. Thank you for your understanding. Hypnotic Techno Circle