Lyrics by Steve Jolliffe

Bent Cold Sidewalk

When I talk to the trees

O great trees who have learned to speak slowly

I know that they believe that they have an answer

Then I walk in the city where I cannot hear it.

When I talk to the city

I have already learned three answers before I call the question

And slowly, I wish myself among trees

But cannot hear myself wishing.

When I talk to the people

Who are in the trees that grow in the city

They reply with a fond kindness, slowly,

But there is no answer for experience to be made by mistake.

Upon this key, time will slide,

Beyond each lock, you lose your mind,

And as our door becomes open,

A rush of sound is found inside

Creating dreams that pass you by.

You may live through your life a long, long time,

But you will never know from where it came,

Yet all you've seen is what you've wanted to.

You're walking forward as you look behind.

Still watching those old memories fade and die...

This door is heavy, and is deeply stained,

With wasted tears that try to fight in vain.

You may be sitting, feeling quite secure,

But listen carefully -- and this key is yours,

For we can lead you far beyond that door.

There are dangers hidden, trust in that language,

And it is precisely this conception which must not be changed.

The epitome of our language is patterns,

Containment of thought and sound.

I die to fight!

Upon this key, time will slide,

Beyond each lock, you lose your mind,

And as our door becomes open,

A rush of sound is found inside

Creating dreams that pass you by.

Bent cold sidewalk, open the gate,

I may be late but I can no longer wait.

Stealing the crown that stood me up,

I'm laying the table with dusty plates.

Bent cold sidewalk, open the gate,

I may be late but I can no longer wait.

Playing the god to fix your gaze,

I'm holding you firm on another day.

Bent cold sidewalk, open the gate,

I may be late but I can no longer wait.

Rising Runner Missed by Endless Sender

Rising runner missed by endless sender, never coming back

Rising runner, never coming back, ever running over.

Rising runner, you're missed by the endless sender.

Howling winds dig in your ears,

Steely cold and never getting warm.

Hell's bells, you're alive

On and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.

Treading lightly colored stones,

Often losing sight of goals.

Embracing patterns long grown old,

Leaving space is hard to fold.

Cyclone: A Whirlwind of Controversy

Essay by Jeff Filbert, written in 1994

Cyclone... the name envisions roaring winds which cut a destructive path through civilization, instilling in some feelings of fear and dread, and in others a sense of wonderment and awe at its powerful force of nature. It all depends on your perspective -- and how close a proximity you are to it at the time!

Cyclone is also the title of Tangerine Dream's 1978 album. It too is a powerful force which has been met with mixed reviews since its release. People have either loved it or hated it. Some have been able to feel the excitement and to sense the wonder of tight interplay and superb musicianship. However, still others have been almost hostile toward Cyclone, due to the vocals which take up half the album.

Well, I have the extreme good fortune to have a member of the band who helped make that legendary recording, Steve Jolliffe, living in the same city with me. So I decided to get some solid information from him concerning the making of Cyclone, in the hopes of clearing up some of the winds of controversy and to unveil some of the musical alchemy that went into its creation. The following statements were made by Jolliffe regarding the inspiration, recording sessions and other noted points of interest that went into the making of Cyclone:

"It was conceived totally from scratch in a 48-track recording studio that was booked 24 hours a day for a month. We all went in together at first, trying lots of ideas and improvising, but we had some difficulty focusing our musical vision collectively. At that point I went in and did 'Rising Runner Missed by Endless Sender'. I did most of the tracks on it except for the bass and drum parts, which were performed by Chris (Franke) and Klaus (Krüger). After that, things seemed to go much smoother and our ideas jelled better.

On the other two pieces, 'Bent Cold Sidewalk' and 'Madrigal Meridian', everyone contributed equally. For 'Madrigal Meridian', Chris worked out some nice bass and sequencer patterns, and we just sort of began jamming over the top of that. The drums were put on last, and I remember that Klaus had some minor problems trying to maintain that exact drum pattern repeatedly. But he did some great playing, with some really nice things in the quieter sections of the piece.

I wrote all the lyrics on the album, although some of them were improvised, especially on 'Bent Cold Sidewalk'. 'I die to fight!' just kind of came out, as did the titles of the pieces themselves. However, the spoken vocoder part the the beginning was not written by me, but was something we found and thought would be appropriate to the album.

What I was trying to say in 'Bent Cold Sidewalk' was how the music was going to take you on a journey and guide you into parts of your mnd that you wouldn't necessarily be able to get to. The music was to be your transport, as in 'a rush of sound is heard inside, creating dreams that pass you by.' That whole section, 'Bent cold sidewalk, open the gate, I may be late but I can no longer wait,' had to do with my re-involvement with Tangerine Dream, and with Edgar (Froese) especially. 'Playing the god to fix your gaze, I'm holding you firm on another day,' has to do with that creative power -- wherever it comes from -- and the power that it has on people to hold their attention.

On 'Rising Runner,' the opening is about the spirit's individual search or quest -- running, searching, never looking back. Whereas 'Bent Cold Sidewalk' has a line about standing still ('You're walking forward as you look behind'), the message of 'Rising Runner' is the freedom of the human spirit running headlong into whatever adventure awaits it, and the exhilaration and vitality that one feels as a result -- life on the edge, so to speak.

'Treading lightly colored stones, often losing sight of goals', these are the stumbling blocks that could distract or stop the runner from moving on, to embrace patterns or ruts and never move forward. The patterns are old and dead -- you've got to leave them and move on, keep running.

We all had a go at the mixing. We used two 24-track recording machines synched together to make the needed 48 tracks. I remember at one point we all became ill, one after another, being stuck in the studio all the time without proper ventilation. Edgar would be mixing and get sick, and while he was laid up I'd try mixing. Then I would be laid up, and Chris would try mixing. This process went on for some time. We filled up all of those 48 tracks. There were things going on in all of them, so everytime we would mix, it would be like a new album. Cyclone was the result of several different mixes, or at least the best part of them. We could have made three albums out of those sessions. I'd love to go back and remix it with some of the tracks that we didn't use. There were flute quartets on some sections, and some other things as well -- all that was lost."

I hope that both readers and listeners alike will appreciate these insights, and give more respect and credit to this sometimes slighted and much maligned album. It deserves much better than it has received in the years since its release, and I believe that it has stood well the test of time. Being in close proximity to this particular cyclone can only be an enrichment to your life.