Some musicians want a stormy applause, others hope for meditative affection from their listeners, and then there are those who simply want to roam together. And finally Jack Balminger: It’s clear that he always feels good when he shakes his head as disbelievingly as possible. As part of the Hamburg joke trio Studio Brown And the fake “Fractus” documentary is still relatively traditional. With his solo projects, things get even more remote. This is also the case on his group’s third album Dubrovnik kings: “Dubbies On Top” (Misitunes / Broken Silence) leads, as he says himself, to “musical realms of experience and satisfying landscapes.” The music is actually a pleasing dub reggae. But when he sings Balminger, he sounds like a children’s theater narrator on the radio who has unfortunately lost his mind and is now addressing strangers at the bus station.
He whispers: “How can I forget that I can light the sun?” “I’m flying like a butterfly and I think bees suck honey from flower heads again.” It’s about images of men, Franco-Nero fantasies, or, why not, vague torture techniques (“they’re looking for flour to bake your face”). It’s all miles off the mark in a perfect way. Or just to the point – seen from Ballinger’s point of view. At some point while listening, you feel strangely light, liberated from the ordinary logic of everyday life, sometimes baffling, sometimes laughing, sometimes dancing. amazing. Or as the master of post- and post-paradox says in his self-written informational text: “All dubbing is great!”
From Palminger directly to the next hamburger: January delay The new album “Earth, Wind & Feiern: Live aus dem Hamburger Hafen” (Universal) is a recording of the home game he celebrated with the release of his “Earth, Wind & Feiern” album last summer. And as the festive gag/tired fire appears here for the second time, the question gradually arises as to why Jean Delay only jumps halfway when it comes to wordplay. And the titles of his recent albums: “Hammer und Michel”, “Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Soul”, “Mercedes-Dance”. Air upwards. But it’s not unruly, the live album captures the harbor atmosphere in a big way, the brass sections are in place, and the hamburgers are going wild. And classic songs like “Oh Johnny”, “Klar” and a guest performance “Türlich Türlich” (Das Bo) are great fun again. Other people are responsible for somewhat more complex humor. see above.
And now we will remain in Hamburg at this point. Live there too Andrew Durau. He’s been dancing his own bubble through the ages between massive success (“Fred vom Jupiter”, 1982), special success (everything after that) and chance of success (“Girls In Love” top-ten in France). But regardless of whether his star shines brightly or not, the guy does what he does so persistently that he deserves full respect for him. “I’m One of Us Two”, the album from 2005, is now being re-released again (wallpaper recordings), and when you listen to it you will immediately notice: what Dorau does, no one else in Germany does. Sometimes the house beats as a foundation, sometimes the members hit the house, several layers of fuzzy specimens, soapy girl choirs and the dumb synth sounds you know from the ’70s TV series. Dorau’s singing right in the first grade – intelligently enough, he simply raised the realization “Oh dear, when I sing, I sound like a little kid” into a principle. There are a few real gems to rediscover here, including the great “Hinterhaus” (“Aus dem Hinterhaus and aus dem Hinterhaus/den take out the tenants from the front”), as well as the “Kein Liebeslied” written with Sven Regener, who is A guest in the middle of it narrates, in his opinion, a good song too, “for example fire, dreams, colors, fences.” A one-of-a-kind album, in the best sense – unmistakable.
Hamburg, by the way: Anyone, as a subscriber to a southern German newspaper, sometimes asks what kind of music was made there, should review the beautiful and still almost new book.Hamburg sounds – Die Musik der Stadt: 1960-2020″ (Junius Verlag). With great attention to detail, authors Alf Burchardt and Bernd Jonkmanns have put everything in it, from the rhythm of the ’60s from the black and white years to the electronic crackle of the present. Of course, Dorau and Delay and Palminger.