Nie ma jak w domu E​.​P.

by Jan Strach

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Released as part of the first global Netlabel Day, this e.p. by Jan Strach continues the tradition started with the previous e.p., "Jan Strach Piszczy W Narożniku". It collects songs and instrumentals created while Jan Strach was working on his full length albums, their only problem being that they did not fit in with the longplays' general atmosphere.

Otherwise, Jan Strach is proud and happy to present to the world this collection of beautiful things, as usual with JS full of stylistic surprises: a wobbly weave of ping-pongy piano combined with a barely breathing flute and a dirty one-string guitar; a marimba-stylophone luau reverberating as if from a cave with stomping and finger snaps. A shoe-noisy dreamy rock tune about travelling birds, and a punk thing with girly choruses in a time signature of i-lost-count/4 and a toy and a flute; that's not all.

As usual with Underpolen Netlabel offerings it is lo-fi, diy, full of odd passionate homemade energy.


released July 14, 2015

Jan Strach - everything




Jan Strach Poznań, Poland

Noisy Nostalgic Experimental Post-Pop

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Track Name: Tisalark
Inspecting her newest reflection
Trying to make form out of the blurs
Squinting to keep her secrets
Echoing every detail of express

‘Tis a bird
A lark
The foundation of my heart of hearts

An off prime
Fibrillating the dormant fight.

In the wash of her early fall
As it stands now, she esteems her house
All are but a time machine
Taking heart for the swell of life

‘Tis a bird…

My shifting expressions gave me away

‘Tis a bird…
Track Name: Wielkie ptaki [Huge Birds]
Są wielkie ptaki co na północ lecą
Niepozbierane z luster cienką krechą
Wciąż zadziwione całą resztą świata
Ptaki co nie lądują całe lata

Jest syn królika co z konopi się wydostał
który kochał, który krzyczał, który odszedł, który został
Są wielkie ptaki co gdy wiatr im przeciw wieje
robią koziołki i łzy gubią i nadzieję

I serca wielkie pudło lśni pod mostem
I przy ołtarzu śpiewa krzywym głosem
I ptaka ogon się rozkłada kiedy zaśnie
I sny o Kalifornii nikną w czaszce