The Leipzig-based quartet Frau Lehmann, led by the eponymous singer Fiona Lehmann, appears to have a new genre you could call the 'power chanson'. Their consistently optimistic yet biting and lyrical observations, set against swaggering guitar riffs, define the twelve songs on their aptly titled new album, Trost & Trotz. The realisation that these two concepts are closely linked is at the heart of this album, whose bittersweet stories feel pleasant yet relevant, and never shallow. The melancholic and combative debut blends personal experiences, such as fears, feelings of being overwhelmed and questions of mental health, with social commentary on precariousness, cultural capitalism and societal expectations. The album was released on the Hamburg-based label La Pochette Surprise, whose fine, eclectic roster is worth a closer look.
Blurred and ghostly, intimate yet aloof — this is how Lucy Kruger and the Lost Boys open their new album, Pale Bloom, an art-pop masterpiece featuring distant-sounding guitars reminiscent of a science fiction western, melancholic strings and a calm, floating vocal delivery. And go on from there. The idiosyncratic blend of dark, gothic pop and, at times, almost traditional Americana is a sombre, claustrophobic affair — a rare phenomenon in the German music scene. It is hard to escape the intensity of the atmosphere created by South Africa-born Lucy Kruger and her band; their performance is so compelling. With its analogue, warm sound and consistently calm, up-close vocals, the album explores themes of vulnerability, vague fears, inner fragility and the weight of the past.
Kabeaushé is the alter ego of 29-year-old artist and producer Kabochi Gitau. This bold persona challenges listeners with an eccentric blend of pop, rock and baroque classical music with a touch of hip-hop and electronica. On Iggy Swaggering Ungrateful Incessant Little Peeeaaaaaaa (yes, that IS the title of the album), the musician — who moved from Kenya to Berlin — demonstrates not only his profound knowledge of a wide variety of musical styles, but also his skills as a producer and composer. Despite their unpredictability, the tracks feel well thought out and tastefully compiled, and, above all, they skilfully keep the audience on the edge of their seats. You never know where the journey is headed, but it is never boring and makes perfect sense as the multitude of influences from music, film and painting melt together into an extravagant pop-cultural Gesamtkunstwerk.
For KMRU — the sound artist Joseph Kamaru, who was born in Nairobi and now lives in Berlin — sound is a sensory medium and a manifestation of auditory experiences that are shaped by social, material and conceptual interpretations. The pulsating drones and feedback on his new album Kin, the follow-up to his 2020 breakthrough album Peel, are interwoven endlessly processed field recordings and synthesiser sounds, manipulated, fragmented and reassembled until a new form of music emerges. The raw, overdriven sounds and slow crescendos hint at a resolution, but rarely reach a climax; instead, they transition into a new, open state. These dark undertones suggest a hidden world behind the layers of sound. This atmosphere defines an album that cements KMRU’s place at the forefront of the international ambient scene.
On their confidently titled Classics Vol. 1, the Berlin duo Modeselektor remix their own recordings. Led by the album’s lead single This Track Kills Fascism, the eight tracks on the collection consist of songs from their first two albums, Hello Mom and Happy Birthday, some of which have been taken apart and reassembled beyond recognition. By using the old tracks, they’ve managed to bring the raw and unbridled sound of their early years into the present, offering far more than just “classics”—with the exception of two relatively unchanged tracks (Edgar and Kill Bill Vol. 4), the rest have become completely new compositions, a direct link to their own glorious past and a great starting point for the European techno summer. Because even if the thought of carefree dance festivals is no longer entirely possible: dancing is still best on the volcano (as the Germans say).
