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Whining and Howling
There's no point in denying it - we've been in a bit of a creative slump lately. You may have noticed that I've hardly written about music for weeks. All the fuss about Till's burnmark and the syndicate has drained us of more energy and focus than we were willing to admit. Maybe that's why the knot was untied last weekend. I came into rehearsal with a text that I honestly didn't really understand myself. But then Jin had this brilliant idea - a single note on the piano, gently hammering itself into a trance in furious repetition. And suddenly the ideas bubbled up. Hans cobbled together a powerful but tricky beat. Leo fiddled around with our Moog synthesizer until it only produced a whining and howling sounds, almost like from another world. And Till was hitting the strings, heavy distorted power chords that almost sounded like heavy metal. Normally I would never have bought into it, but in the interplay of all these conflicting elements it suddenly made a lot of sense. So - be warned: our next song might be a little more experimental. I love it already!
Of course that makes the question of how to release our music in the future all the more pressing. Ava has also been busy and set up a meeting with another record label. Yesterday we were there. First we had to wait in the lobby for twenty minutes, while something by Richard Wagner droned from the office. I had firmly resolved to keeping my mouth shut this time and letting Ava do her thing. When we were finally asked into the dark, stuffy room, I immediately had a strange feeling. I couldn't focus one bit on the pleasantries Ava and our counterpart were exchanging because I was constantly wondering where the hell I knew this guy from. Did you recognize him right away? It took me a while, but then suddenly the memory came back: Till and I in the S-Bahn, the piercing look from a single eye, hysterical cackling. (If that doesn't ring a bell, read our post from Jan. 27 again).
My first impulse was to leave the room immediately. But I forced myself to remain calm. Mister Eye Patch didn't give the impression of having recognized me so far. So it was not a good idea to draw his attention to me by strange behavior like a sudden flight. So I nervously slid back and forth on my chair and waited for an opportunity to give Ava an unnoticed sign that we had to cut the conversation short immediately. But she was far too busy fantasizing about our future international career and didn't pay any attention to me.
To me, the conversation seemed to drag on endlessly. I can remember almost nothing about the content, because I was focused the whole time on attracting as little attention as possible. The few times I had to answer a direct question, I remained as monosyllabic as possible. Where I saw myself and the band in five years? How I would estimate our core target group? I don't know...who comes up with questions like that? When we were finally out, I was completely drenched in sweat. Ava, on the other hand, seemed pretty satisfied. I could have been a bit more talkative, she said. And why I was so pale anyway? There was a lot to explain on the way back.