Crystalhorizon Records 

Somewhere, in a reality only slightly out of sync with ours, a team of exhausted celestial clerks in ill-fitting suits and existential dread has already logged this album under “Unauthorized Dimensional Leakage #4096-B.”

According to their records, Cloud Nine was an atmospheric fluctuation, not a song. Madman was never meant to be understood, only whispered in static between radio stations at 3:33 AM. And the Phoenix? He was supposed to rise exactly once—not forever combust in a spiraling, progressive-psychedelic symphony that plays forwards, backwards, and sideways depending on how you tilt your head.

And then… things got weird.

Somewhere between Eternity and Invisible Enemies, the clerks weren’t the first to notice an anomaly.

The Archivists of Lost Sound, a group of spectral librarians who catalog every melody that was never played, reported distortions in their collections. Notes that played themselves. Harmonies that weren’t written. A crackling presence in the silence between tracks.

The Observers of Motionless Travel, those who watch over roads that don’t lead anywhere, claimed they saw something moving where nothing should.

And then there’s Schichten.

The last recorded attempt to categorize this track ended with the auditor staring into the void for 47 minutes, muttering something about layers within layers within layers. Layers that unfold, layers that disappear, layers that were never there to begin with. Schichten inside Schichten inside Schichten.

When they finally snapped out of it, their fingerprints had changed.

By the time anyone noticed Tangerine Dreams humming softly in the background, reality itself was beginning to stretch. Walls breathed. Streetlights whispered poetry. Gravity became optional.

And then, the cracks started appearing.

At first, they thought it was the fabric of reality itself fracturing. But no—it was Made of Glass.

Something so fragile, so impossibly delicate, it shouldn’t have survived dimensional travel—and yet, there it was, shimmering at the edges of perception. Some say it shattered upon impact, its fragments scattered across time. Others insist it never broke at all—that it simply moves, slipping through fingers the moment you try to hold onto it.

The Elders of Unfinished Journeys, keepers of paths abandoned midway, grew concerned. They had seen this before.

And then, the final, unexplainable phenomenon:

Walking Without Walking.

A contradiction. A step that leaves no footprint. A journey that never starts, yet never ends.

The Astral Navigators, those who guide lost travelers through the spaces between realities, raised the alarm. One of their own was missing.

A missing astronaut.

He was last seen drifting toward Eternity, but never arrived. Some say he reached his destination. Others believe he’s still walking without walking, trapped in a place where movement has no meaning and time refuses to pass.

But the most disturbing theory came from the Space Mussle Incident.

A report so classified that even the celestial clerks refuse to speak of it. A phenomenon where sound itself became muscle, stretching, flexing, contracting—bending the very structure of existence.

Those who heard it felt it.

And those who felt it never quite returned.

At that moment, the clerks, the Observers, the Archivists, the Navigators, and the Elders all agreed on one thing:

This album wasn’t supposed to be here.

Somehow, it escaped its intended universe, bypassed extradimensional customs, and landed here, in your reality.

And now, you have a choice:

You can listen.

Or you can pretend none of this is happening.

But either way…

The universe is already listening to you.

Vocals: Alexander Nantschev, Peter Horvat, Marcel Illetschko, Silke, Corinna Lenneis, Elke Pichler, Julie Helena, Claire K Nicholson, Mariela Spacek, Juliane Greifeneder 

Drums: Chuck Sabo, Michael Lind, Alexander Dostal 

Percussion: Andrea Piccioni 

Bass: Robert Siegel, Zoltan Renaldi, Tymek Wojtewicz, Maximilian Ölz 

Guitars: Peter Horvat, Marcel Illetschko, Alexander Nantschev, Ziv Shalev, Vladimir Gapontsev, Jay Stapley 

Keys/Synthesizer: Alexander Nantschev, Christo Popov 

Hammond: Alex Kamm 

Strings: Alexander Nantschev 

Sitar: Subrata Biswas 

Recorded, produced and edited by Alexander Nantschev 

Mix and Master: Yoad Nevo 

Artwork and Design: Philippe Luptak

Listen on Bandcamp, Spotify, Apple Music

The Vienna-based composer, violinist, and producer Alexander Nantschev once again merges the worlds that have shaped him since childhood in his new album Your Star Smells Like Mine. Between the classical compositions of Vivaldi, Mozart, or Shostakovich and the psychedelic-progressive sounds of the Beatles and contemporary rock music, he found an early musical home where contrasts dissolve. This complex fusion is what he describes with his own term progadelic—a psychedelic-progressive blend of diverse styles that transcends conventional genre boundaries.

Originally emerging from the sessions of his previous album, these new pieces have now found their own identity: intricate, at times challenging and unconventional—yet precisely because of this, utterly captivating. Your Star Smells Like Mine resists quick accessibility and mainstream formulas. Instead, it unfolds a sonic universe defined by radiant violin lines and bold, unpredictable arrangements. As a classically trained violinist, Nantschev draws on his deep musical foundation while embracing experimentation: Baroque influences meet ethereal textures, unusual rhythms, and progressive riffs.

The result is an album that both inspires and challenges. From mysterious harmonic progressions to intricate beats and luminous melodies, Alexander Nantschev explores the full spectrum of his multidimensional musical universe. Romantic, modern, psychedelic, and experimental elements merge seamlessly to create a rich and authentic listening experience. Nantschev invites listeners to engage deeply—to immerse themselves in a musical journey where the boundaries between tradition and innovation constantly shift.

As in previous projects, such as the album Selves, Your Star Smells Like Mine revolves around the interplay of identities, tonal colors, and alter egos. For Nantschev, music serves as a stage where different facets of his multidimensional personality engage in dialogue. Through this interplay of “inner voices,” a distinctive sound aesthetic emerges—one that fuses classical instrumentation, avant-garde techniques, and the spirit of psychedelic rock into a singular expression.

With Your Star Smells Like Mine, Alexander Nantschev invites listeners on a journey where musical tradition, boundless experimentation, and personal expression weave into a dynamic mosaic. Those who embrace this sonic world will discover more than just an album—they will enter a creative cosmos that effortlessly transcends conventions and opens new horizons.

With deep sorrow, we bid farewell to Eugene Sârbu, an extraordinary person and a great friend of our family. His passing leaves a void that will be difficult to fill.

Eugene Sârbu was not only a close confidant of my father but also one of the most significant influences in our lives. His humor, creativity, and charm inspired us all. Especially in the musical realm, he was a source of inspiration and motivation. I am convinced that my father learned a great deal from him—across many areas of life.

For me personally, Eugene Sârbu was the reason I took up the violin as a teenager. His passion for music ignited a deep fire within me that still burns to this day. I will never forget his presence and the impact he had on my life.

To honor his achievements and to celebrate his collaboration with my father, I want to highlight their joint projects on my label. Particularly noteworthy is their interpretation of Antonio Vivaldi’s "The Four Seasons," which they released under the name "Vienna Master Orchestra"—later "European Master Orchestra." This recording, along with performances in London, was just one of many impressive projects they accomplished together.

Eugene Sârbu profoundly influenced our lives, and his memory will live on in our hearts forever.

——

Mit tiefer Trauer nehmen wir Abschied von Eugene Sârbu, einem außergewöhnlichen Menschen und einem großen Freund unserer Familie. Sein Tod hinterlässt eine Lücke, die nur schwer zu füllen sein wird.

Eugene Sârbu war nicht nur ein enger Vertrauter meines Vaters, sondern auch einer der wichtigsten Einflüsse in unserem Leben. Sein Humor, seine Kreativität und sein Charme haben uns alle inspiriert. Besonders im musikalischen Bereich war er eine Quelle der Inspiration und Motivation. Ich bin überzeugt, dass mein Vater sehr viel von ihm gelernt hat – in vielen Bereichen des Lebens.

Für mich persönlich war Eugene Sârbu der Grund, warum ich als Teenager die Geige in die Hand nahm. Seine Leidenschaft für die Musik hat in mir ein tiefes Feuer entfacht, das bis heute brennt. Ich werde seine Anwesenheit und seinen Einfluss auf mein Leben niemals vergessen.

In Ehren seiner Verdienste und zur Würdigung seiner Zusammenarbeit mit meinem Vater möchte ich auf meinem Label ihre gemeinsamen Projekte hervorheben. Besonders erwähnenswert ist ihre Interpretation von Antonio Vivaldis „Die vier Jahreszeiten“, die sie unter dem Namen „Vienna Master Orchestra“ – später „European Master Orchestra“ – veröffentlichten. Diese Aufnahme und die Aufführungen in London waren nur einige von vielen beeindruckenden Projekten, die sie gemeinsam realisierten.

Eugene Sârbu hat unser Leben nachhaltig geprägt, und sein Andenken wird für immer in unseren Herzen weiterleben.

Goldener Saal Musikverein

In Kitries, Greece. Eugene got a terrible sunburn there. I am the kid with the Austria football dress.

Eugene writes a recommendation letter for the violin school of my dad.

The first album they produced together

Here a playlist which includes tracks of their second album.

Haven´t posted here in while.

Some updates from the last months:

Mini Performance at the Biennale

New release

Composed a track in Ableton live and mixed a photo by Christa Bauer in Isadora 

Enjoy

Other lullaby created today: