Ralph Heidel's third studio album, "anyways. onto better things," is his most personal and intimate work to date, focusing on hope while not shying away from heaviness. With a wink, he bids farewell to a time when making music became a survival strategy. Heidel, who has established himself as a jazz prodigy, composer, multi-instrumentalist, and sought-after producer (including Apsilon, Casper, Finn Ronsdorf, Bazzazian), demonstrates on this album his unique ability to express emotional depth and complexity through tender, haunting melodies and a deeply sensitive production. His solo work is characterized by the interplay of analog and electronic sounds, featuring intimate piano themes and warm saxophone. The album was created in Heidel's studio at Funkhaus Berlin, surrounded by his instruments —alto and C saxophones, flute, an August Förster piano, and various analog synthesizers This essential space for Heidel fostered an independent creative process over 1.5 years. The process and Funkhaus became a refuge for the composer, allowing him to turn into music what his heart and mind could not articulate. "anyways. onto better things" begins at the end. With "end credits," an apocalyptic opener that sounds like the end of the world, it immediately conveys the central themes of the album: farewell and beginning, love and pain, life and death. Where does this journey lead if everything must be given up right from the start? With "wake up," the second track, the exploration begins: supported by renowned Japanese jazz composer Jun Miyake (who has worked with Pina Bausch and Robert Wilson), whose flugelhorn solo evokes a longing for departure into an uncertain future. The song shifts i dynamics from complex arrangements of woodwinds, drums (played by Simon Popp), and electronic sounds to reduced passages where the flugelhorn stands alone. Sometimes, th instruments reverberate in a wide echo chamber, while at other times, they come close and dry to the listeners. For this project, Heidel has assembled an impressive selection of international artists who color the album in various ways: In "all the seasons," rapper Selassie drives through the city streets with friends, filled wit eagerness and euphoria, as life seems to surrender to them—the seasons are theirs. His characteristically rough voice makes the song an urgent hit, cathartic and full of joy, where heaviness blends with lightness. British singer Douglas Dare sings in "curly hair" higher and more fragile than usual. It seemed fitting to him to sing about his cancer-stricken girlfriend's new hair in the mos tender, vulnerable way. The arrangement of flutes is equally sensitive, yet withou smoothing over anything. Lisa Harres sings in "oh, cherry tree" about a cherry tree—asking whether she can lean on it, rest here, or lie down to sleep, the song cryptically tells of friendship and love, connection and intimacy, tension and desire. Finn Ronsdorf brings a painful beauty to "if you must go," focusing on the theme of farewell. Here, acceptance of longing, change, and the finiteness of love is reflec These themes also appear in other reconciliatory pieces like "hey, champ!" and "i’m here, we’re here." They resonate in powerful, epic compositions like "cherry tree" or "if you must go." Light and shadow meet, and life is celebrated in all its fullness. Sonically, the production takes listeners on a journey: sometimes it feels as if one is in Heidel's living room ("shit ton of love"), sometimes an infinite space opens up ("wake up") at other moments, one hears footsteps in the snow ("i’m here, we’re here") or the laughter of the musicians ("a new start"). Recorded over many months in Heidel's studio at Funkhaus Berlin, the album documents an intimate musical and friendly process. The voices of Heidel's closest confidants, Harres and Ronsdorf, frequently reappea At the end of the album lies a new beginning: with "A new start," the journey concludes. Cello (played by Marie-Claire Schlameus) and saxophone find peace with what was, wha is, and what is to come. The voices of Heidel, Harres, and Ronsdorf cry it out in unison. A cry of liberation. A departure. It forms a poetic circle, closing—each end a beginning, each beginning an end. And we, as listeners, are invited to witness this compelling spectacle. "anyways. onto better things" embodies the universality of authentic, personal expression. Without seeking to prove anything, the album conveys the spectrum of human emotions through multifaceted compositions. It always leaves enough space for listeners to connect with their own heartbreak, zest for life, sadness, joy, loneliness, connection, calmness, longing, farewells, and beginnings. "anyways. onto better things" extends a hand to anyone who wishes to take it and step forward with a wink.