FRED STZ MUSIC

Thousand Yesterdays The pattern in the wallpaper... it blinked. It winked a secret back at me. The dust motes in the shaft of light... they were spelling out a name in Aramaic. And the traffic outside... it syncopated itself into a divine, arrhythmic pulse. I was a tourist in my own skin, a stranger at the station Reading timetables to cities of pure information Then the signal cut the static, wit...

The children are sketching perfect cities on the backs of their eyelids... Their fingers are clean... their maps are traced in gold leaf and possibility... Before they learn the street has another name... We were architects of ether, builders of the dawn With compass hearts and chemical bonds, before the veil was drawn We saw the cracks in empires, in the sermons and the sales A holiness in concre...

Just a Ghost in the Machinery by FRED STZ

This track is a reference and response to the Dead Kennedys' song "Holidays in Cambodia," presented in a different and revisited style that incorporates recent events. It refers to the extremely violent political regime and in no way to the population, which also suffers under this totalitarian drift.

Chalk Lines and Thunder by FRED STZ

The border’s drawn, the dice were cast In blackened skies and tremors vast. A borrowed corner, four by four, A key turned in a stranger’s door. No other road, no open gate, Just this ceasefire made of fate. I hold my breath, I make no sound, On this unfamiliar ground. But in the kindness of their space, I see a shadow cross her face. A wife who feels the order bend, Who sees a ghost she must defen...

Tick. Tock. Cease. A clockmaker’s palms, instruments at rest, No more winding springs for the Empire’s dead chest. His patriot’s sermon, a moth-eaten creed, Now a monologue in a slow, crimson bleed. A broken cog. A frozen dial. He measured our time with a ghost of a smile. Black. White. Check. A park bench at dawn, a chessboard of frost. The grandmaster’s gambit, desperately lost. His strategy—sca...

[Pour Thalie] The train wheels whisper on the iron veins A silence thicker than the evening rains Your angry words, a ghost that won't depart Are etching canyons deep inside my heart This private hurt, a familiar, bitter taste The same acid that lays nations to waste A power play in a living room confined The same old sickness of the human mind. And I'm lost in the static, the chaotic tide Where l...

Cold sun rising on a world already dead Nietzsche's last man counting crumbs in his head Spiritual emptiness, the air tastes of lead Great Ravine's approaching, painting everything red Dust on the horizon, storm in the distance Civilization's remnants in existence's resistance States dissolve like sugar in bitter persistence While madmen count profits in psychotic persistence Thunder rumbling, get...

Eyes like scratched film, watching the reel burn Static prophets scream from a dying tower They're training blue-eyed men in believer's hours And the market square is full of mothers' sighs The newsman's face is wet, he's telling no lies I feel the clampdown in the gasoline air A hard rain's gonna fall but doesn't anyone care? Fascist groove thang, beating on the radio Famine in the wheatfield, wa...

Illustration et paroles : Chloé Viatge

Illustration et paroles : Chloé Viatge

Illustration et paroles : Chloé Viatge

The haunting spider by FRED STZ

Orius, lost in thought by FRED STZ

Oscar is back in London by FRED STZ

The Loom of Fate by FRED STZ

Crescent City Bound by FRED STZ

Tea with the spider by FRED STZ

On continue dans l'ambiance des films noirs pour mettre en musique le scénario de JDR que j'ai écrit dans l'univers de Lovecraft.

The Ink and the Dust by FRED STZ

Horace and the backstreets of New Orleans by FRED STZ

The album Cabaret Noir will be a tribute to the music that overwhelmed us with emotion when we were children and which still works its magic today, with wonderful, deep voices...

Sur le thème "des cités de la nuit écarlate" un nouveau morceau pour le projet d'album.

Testament by FRED STZ