Klaus Schulze
Cyborg

Landscapes of tactile sensations, antimatter released from matter: namely the sequencer, on the outskirts of hell walking in the flickering light of petrochemical plants with its hypnotic metronomies, placing weights on the keys so that the eternal may develop, progress, and reach stasis, the volumes and geometries of the world and their immediate translation into psychological terms, an extreme attempt to return to symmetry.

Klaus is totally aware of the universe around him, yet he is still perfectly sealed within himself, mythology of the amniotic return, the extreme spasm of the dextrorotatory helix of DNA, twelve cellists, thirty violinists, four flutists, after all this is an album birthed by a human being, contrasting this is the alien spirit of atonal synths and VCS3s, with their galactic spirals: invisible hierarchies of the quasars, the eroded landscape continues to awaken, these images are the vestiges of a time that remains in memory in the form of secret growth.

The telescopes, the differential coefficient of the pseudo-sphere, the dome of the planetarium, boring and infinite symmetry, valid temporal systems?, Halcyon?, growing entropy, desert life in the climatic station, under a bland equinoctial sky, transcendental geometries, Venus of the dunes of temporal slopes, undisturbing epiphany, the pacified time of the dunes, Apollo capsule and mental collapse.
Thank you Klaus for projecting to us the sense of the works of Dalí and Max Ernst.