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Weihnachtsbaum vor der Kirche - St. Ludwig, München - 24.12.2025
Christmas tree in front of the church
Christmas Lights
In my living room

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Weihnachten in Dresden.
23.12.2024: Baumkunde: Heimische Fichte • Picea abies
Weihnachtsbaum #1
Good morning, beautiful people. It's snowing over the Rolandsbogen at the moment. So there's no better setting to take part in @franzliszt-official's little advent calendar. And it would be so nice if there were a few others who could draw Franz on a tiger skin in front of the Christmas tree or something, so that we don't spam everyone here alone again ;)
Franz has done exactly what we feared last week. And we had avoided the topic so nicely in Lisztober ;) Although there are only 12 songs here, they are quite something. Let's start with #1 Psallite, which I added a Tiedge poem to and Lacelove a few BPM ;)
(Here's a snippet of my Keyboard-Crying voice version from tonight, for which I earned a lot of middle fingers from Lacelove xD)
Firstly, nobody really wants us to record XI nor listen to an acoustic version of it. Believe me. When I look at sheet music and laugh, it's already doomed to failure. But: We are Elektrische Maidchen and that's a good thing, this time ;) Secondly, I usually write the lyrics first and then we sit down to write the music. Anyone who's ever worked with me knows that the other way round can be really bad. xD And then why don't you write lyrics to a Franz Liszt composition with a Christmas theme? Easy!!! (Not! ;))
But, hey, we'll try. Since we're a bit behind schedule, we'll try to catch up tonight or tomorrow at the latest so that I can at least come up with my own lyrics for IV. Until then, you'll get a few poem settings (which, by the way, are really difficult to transfer to the pieces, too. So, don't think we're making it easy for ourselves here ;)).
Let's see when the madness returns.
Joy falls into our hands; The mere art of rejoicing That must be practised, must be won! Even if every fool understood it, It would not be for the wise; Joy escapes intoxicated days With face turned away. it flees because we chase after it, The fool experiences it, does not feel it. it loves the quieter moods of the soul, Lifts up melancholy to itself And seeks us in cloudy days In our own hearts.