Die Letzten Ecken - Talisman
Berlin insists, it churns out bands and works as if it were a river in a perpetual state of birth. A city that shapes and informs the world, has huge arms that know how to encircle restlessness, loneliness, mystery, sows dense fluids of gentle weed, like the one present in the nine songs. A journey through the history of that capital, an advance within the intensity of rhythms, of sounds, of perceptions that make the human being increasingly aware. The synthesisers are mighty waves, to form houses as if they were dance halls, in which one feeds on electronics, on Kraut Rock (could it and should it have been missing? Certainly not!), ending up oxygenating Post-Punk, making it an obedient slave. The glass shatters, as do the balances, and one travels hopelessly upset by this cleverly diluted Dark-Electro pile-up. Their massive intelligence definitively emerges with the fourth arrow, the Zirkus, which elevates their concept, behaviour and poise, as it can compress the file of that place and, once the pen drive is removed, everything remains memorised. One experiences moments of elegant cybernetic poetry (Brennender Kummer), in which the female voice presses to become a dry recitation. And when you get to listen to Talisman, you enter the eighties as if it were a Spin-Off of an eventual film about that decade.
Don't hesitate: go to Germany and get a vitamin boost with this wonderful trio, because you'll be just fine...
