Founded by musicians who combine their fascination with technology with dark social critique, they blend electronic soundscapes with earthy rock, analog warmth and digital coldness. Their sound is raw, minimalist, and yet precisely programmed: distorted guitars meet pulsating beats, metallic vocals meet organic instruments. Thematically, their music revolves around humanity's new dependence on screens, algorithms, and devices that have long since known more about us than we do ourselves....

Founded by musicians who combine their fascination with technology with dark social critique, they blend electronic soundscapes with earthy rock, analog warmth and digital coldness. Their sound is raw, minimalist, and yet precisely programmed: distorted guitars meet pulsating beats, metallic vocals meet organic instruments. Thematically, their music revolves around humanity's new dependence on screens, algorithms, and devices that have long since known more about us than we do ourselves. Universal Mindsetter Corp. isn't offering a call to rebellion, but rather a diagnosis: We have long been part of the system—and dance to its beat.

PFC i ntsumi ya muhlovo, yi huma eXinkwakwa xa Ritshuri. Loko va sungula hi malembe ya ntshungu, va ba na swigubu swa ntima na ku baleka na mirayi ya swinguvu. Va vuriwa “va ntshava ya vudavula”, hikuva vuna va vona i ku tseka hi mbilu, ku phata hi matimela. Xibokwana xa vona xo sungula, Black Disco, xi huwelela eka vukhongeri bya rixaka. Ndzi rhandza ku vula leswaku: “Loko u yingisela PFC, mbilu ya wena yi baleka na mbilu ya misava.” A hi va khandzi, kambe va famba hi mavoko ya ndzilo, ...

PFC i ntsumi ya muhlovo, yi huma eXinkwakwa xa Ritshuri. Loko va sungula hi malembe ya ntshungu, va ba na swigubu swa ntima na ku baleka na mirayi ya swinguvu. Va vuriwa “va ntshava ya vudavula”, hikuva vuna va vona i ku tseka hi mbilu, ku phata hi matimela. Xibokwana xa vona xo sungula, Black Disco, xi huwelela eka vukhongeri bya rixaka. Ndzi rhandza ku vula leswaku: “Loko u yingisela PFC, mbilu ya wena yi baleka na mbilu ya misava.” A hi va khandzi, kambe va famba hi mavoko ya ndzilo, va tsakamela swinavelo swa tinholo. PFC a hi swigevenga, kambe va pfuka hi vusiku va ba disco.

Mc Mené, an artist from Thuringia, Germany, embraced reggae after an event in Neuss. Since then, he has sought to create, become, and be in the sunshine of his vision of a Jamaican, free from restraints and constraints, free and inspired by the positivity of his imagination. In his daily life, he juggles his work as an IT specialist and freelance data protection consultant for high-ranking European IT companies.

Mc Mené, an artist from Thuringia, Germany, embraced reggae after an event in Neuss. Since then, he has sought to create, become, and be in the sunshine of his vision of a Jamaican, free from restraints and constraints, free and inspired by the positivity of his imagination. In his daily life, he juggles his work as an IT specialist and freelance data protection consultant for high-ranking European IT companies.

It began in the Ukrainian town of Kramozin, somewhere between rusted factory roofs, old prefabricated buildings, and a half-collapsed cultural center. It was 2001, and the air smelled of wet concrete, hot sunflower seed oil—and boredom. At a pedestrian crossing near the old candy factory, three art students began to pass the time waiting for the red light in their own way: They whispered obscenities, poetry, or absurd thoughts into the ears of complete strangers. Sometimes loudly, sometimes qu...

It began in the Ukrainian town of Kramozin, somewhere between rusted factory roofs, old prefabricated buildings, and a half-collapsed cultural center. It was 2001, and the air smelled of wet concrete, hot sunflower seed oil—and boredom. At a pedestrian crossing near the old candy factory, three art students began to pass the time waiting for the red light in their own way: They whispered obscenities, poetry, or absurd thoughts into the ears of complete strangers. Sometimes loudly, sometimes quietly. Phrases like: "Your mouth looks like it could swallow revolutions." "I would trade my winter coat for your voice." "Do you also feel this tingling between your shoulder blades?" They called it "traffic light language"—a mixture of Dadaist provocation, urban theater, and suppressed longing. Word spread quickly. People were deliberately late for work just to experience the next performance at the traffic light. ⸻ From the street to the bus: The birth of PlayBus What started as a game became serious – or rather: art. This is how PlayBus was born – not a band in the traditional sense, but a movement. The founding members: • Milana Grozowska: an expelled piano student with a stolen Casio keyboard and a penchant for telephone announcement samples. • Oskar Wedenin: a taciturn lyricist with a bass voice whose whispering lyrics disturbed people and comforted them at the same time. • Leonid “Leo Lärm” Tsybulski: a discarded bus mechanic with DJ ambitions who once turned a broken indicator sound into a 12-minute bass line. In 2006, they hijacked an abandoned public bus – number 14 – and transformed it into a mobile sound installation. Between stops, bass pads boomed from hidden speakers, erotic poetry was whispered over loudspeakers, and with every stop at a red light, a new improvisation began. The bus was soon called just the "PlayBus." In Kramozin, they said, "Don't take the 14—take the PlayBus." ⸻ The album: ПЕШЕХОДНЫЙ ПЕРЕХОД ("Pedestrian Light") The first and only album was recorded entirely on a moving bus. Each track is a mosaic of snippets of conversation, traffic noise, distorted beats, and live bass loops. On one track, Milana whispers, "I only kiss when the light is red." ⸻ PlayBus never officially disbanded. One night, the bus just kept going—out of the city, past the last stop, toward the steppe. Some say it's still running. Others say it never existed. But in Kramozin... ...at every red light, you can sometimes still hear a whisper.

Lelé pulled herself up from the depths of finiteness and screamed. She screamed until the light faded from the sun. Until the moon surrendered to her. At night. In the dark. When you can't hear her. Very quietly... but never forgotten. As if she had flown south with the geese.

Lelé pulled herself up from the depths of finiteness and screamed. She screamed until the light faded from the sun. Until the moon surrendered to her. At night. In the dark. When you can't hear her. Very quietly... but never forgotten. As if she had flown south with the geese.

Born in the salty breeze of Essaouira, Morocco, Savanah Flight Hub is a musical project of two brothers: Salim (the visionary) and Nadir (the architect). Without access to a professional studio, they grew up with an open roof, a broken radio, and their father's rhythms. Their sound doesn't develop in the traditional sense—it emerges intuitively. It combines atmospheric pads with stripped-down lo-fi drums and echoing oud samples. Added to this are field recordings from everyday life, detuned sy...

Born in the salty breeze of Essaouira, Morocco, Savanah Flight Hub is a musical project of two brothers: Salim (the visionary) and Nadir (the architect). Without access to a professional studio, they grew up with an open roof, a broken radio, and their father's rhythms. Their sound doesn't develop in the traditional sense—it emerges intuitively. It combines atmospheric pads with stripped-down lo-fi drums and echoing oud samples. Added to this are field recordings from everyday life, detuned synthesizers, and vocals that sound more like distant memories than classical vocal lines. The first track, "Essa Breeze," wasn't intentionally released—it accidentally made its way online during a power outage. It eventually found its way onto a playlist in a Berlin café and eventually onto an Icelandic label that operates according to unconventional criteria. Since then, the brothers have remained unaware of the media: no official photos, no fixed locations—only occasional appearances. Live, they rely on projections and shadow images. Their concerts feel more like soundscapes than classical performances. They value atmosphere and reduction—no spectacle, but a focus on the essential. Savanah Flight Hub doesn't consider itself a pop project. They work on their own frequency.

Pisto & Luzi are no ordinary musicians – they are space travelers of the groove, interstellar vagabonds with a cassette recorder full of cosmic beats and a penchant for controlled loss of control. The two met not in a studio, but during a power outage in a former research laboratory for vertical garden architecture somewhere in the south of France. Pisto – the smoking commander with a past in the space-time jazz scene – had just tuned a satellite with his guitar, while Luzi – a former ph...

Pisto & Luzi are no ordinary musicians – they are space travelers of the groove, interstellar vagabonds with a cassette recorder full of cosmic beats and a penchant for controlled loss of control. The two met not in a studio, but during a power outage in a former research laboratory for vertical garden architecture somewhere in the south of France. Pisto – the smoking commander with a past in the space-time jazz scene – had just tuned a satellite with his guitar, while Luzi – a former physics nerd with the sense of a metronome on LSD – was trying to quantize the beat of a comet. Their first joint project, the mothership "Bonanza," was assembled from old hotel facades, vintage synthesizers, and cruise missile debris. Since then, they've been flying from planet to planet, festival to festival, always in search of the next galactic crowd ready to dance through space and rhythm.

He came thumping – out of the jam fog, his wooden leg on his left, his eye patch on his right. Antonie! Cinnamon pirate! Salsa shaman! He played with the wind, cried with trumpets, and fed seagulls sugarcane music. Jam! Jam everywhere! Peach on the timpani, guava on the bass. His crew: a dancing goat, three screaming congas, and a captain who only spoke backwards. They sailed through melodies as if through shark soup, lost in bars that no metronome knew. A solo? No – a hurricane of mango and...

He came thumping – out of the jam fog, his wooden leg on his left, his eye patch on his right. Antonie! Cinnamon pirate! Salsa shaman! He played with the wind, cried with trumpets, and fed seagulls sugarcane music. Jam! Jam everywhere! Peach on the timpani, guava on the bass. His crew: a dancing goat, three screaming congas, and a captain who only spoke backwards. They sailed through melodies as if through shark soup, lost in bars that no metronome knew. A solo? No – a hurricane of mango and melancholy. Rebellion with rhythm. Revolution in the chorus.

He lived – not alone, but to the wild rhythm of his own composition: 17 children, three dogs, a wife who elevated patience to a heavenly discipline. A household like an orchestra – and he, the conductor with a baton of defiance. His status? At home in Breinig, world-famous in whispers, world-unknown in the spotlight – now or never, says the shadow beneath his hat. Mischief always at his heels, art between the nonsense, his gaze a circus, his heart a poem. His master is the fear of fear, wh...

He lived – not alone, but to the wild rhythm of his own composition: 17 children, three dogs, a wife who elevated patience to a heavenly discipline. A household like an orchestra – and he, the conductor with a baton of defiance. His status? At home in Breinig, world-famous in whispers, world-unknown in the spotlight – now or never, says the shadow beneath his hat. Mischief always at his heels, art between the nonsense, his gaze a circus, his heart a poem. His master is the fear of fear, which constantly teaches him to fear – and yet he strides, always with light in his hair and glamour in his eyes, through the wings of his own tragicomedy. Full of worry, yet rarely empty. He circles, staggers, sighs – steps out from the house of his body, looks out into the world and asks: "Is the danger banished?" – and runs, stumbled, embarrassed, back in again. Thomas Ambrosius Braun – a man between stage and confession. Between Breinig and the great world theater. An actor of existence, a flaneur in neverland.

Tulip kisses in neon rain, "Alea iacta est," flying teacups on cloud threads dance the cha-cha with clockwork cats. Slow-motion shadows cast kaleidoscope puzzles on jammy sunsets. "Carpe diem," whispers the wooden record player, while rainbows spin backward and a saxophone speaks with lavender. Soap bubbles explode in major chords as thought carousels lose their passengers. "Veni, vidi, vici," calls a gramophone singing pop songs in a wormhole. Captain Holiday wears a jacket of sound, a hat of f...

Tulip kisses in neon rain, "Alea iacta est," flying teacups on cloud threads dance the cha-cha with clockwork cats. Slow-motion shadows cast kaleidoscope puzzles on jammy sunsets. "Carpe diem," whispers the wooden record player, while rainbows spin backward and a saxophone speaks with lavender. Soap bubbles explode in major chords as thought carousels lose their passengers. "Veni, vidi, vici," calls a gramophone singing pop songs in a wormhole. Captain Holiday wears a jacket of sound, a hat of forgotten days, and a belt of question marks. A whirlwind of color, a smile in stardust, a dancing comet on roller skates. "Memento mori," calls the moon, as it toasts with a cocktail of dreams. Captain Holiday is not from around here. Perhaps he was never here. But he was always sound.

In the small town of Maplewood, somewhere in the Midwest of the USA, Toni, a 15-year-old nerd, filters the world almost exclusively through his iPhone. In the real world, he's often the target of bullying, but in his digital world, he turns the tables. Here, he creates quirky, ironic worlds in which he maintains the upper hand and entangles his tormentors in bizarre digital pranks. Even though life offline isn't always fair, Filter Toni makes sure he sets the rules in his own virtual reality.

In the small town of Maplewood, somewhere in the Midwest of the USA, Toni, a 15-year-old nerd, filters the world almost exclusively through his iPhone. In the real world, he's often the target of bullying, but in his digital world, he turns the tables. Here, he creates quirky, ironic worlds in which he maintains the upper hand and entangles his tormentors in bizarre digital pranks. Even though life offline isn't always fair, Filter Toni makes sure he sets the rules in his own virtual reality.

Nobody knows exactly where Andrei Kuma comes from. Some say it's somewhere between Rostov and a smoky street corner full of forgotten beats. Others consider him more myth than man – born of bass, smoke, and words spoken too late. What is certain is that it all began – as so often happens – because of a woman. Her smile had the calm of a snowfall and the noise of a heartbeat. Andrei was obsessed. Not with her – but with the idea of seeing her again. In a fit of romantic confusion, he boar...

Nobody knows exactly where Andrei Kuma comes from. Some say it's somewhere between Rostov and a smoky street corner full of forgotten beats. Others consider him more myth than man – born of bass, smoke, and words spoken too late. What is certain is that it all began – as so often happens – because of a woman. Her smile had the calm of a snowfall and the noise of a heartbeat. Andrei was obsessed. Not with her – but with the idea of seeing her again. In a fit of romantic confusion, he boarded the bus on the wrong side of the road. The bus headed east. He fell asleep. It wasn't until the next day, after 892 km, that he opened his eyes. The road was dusty, the sky strange. He didn't flinch. He got out and waited for seven days. Then a bus came along with the sun at his back. Andrei got on – without haste, without doubt. Only with the thought: Some journeys are only half as long when your heart beats the wrong way. Since then, people have said: When Kuma raps, you don't hear words - you hear a man loving a mistake.

Polymir and Slagadov, the legendary brothers from Yusolavia, arrived in Vienna in 2004 with half an accordion and a suitcase full of glitter powder. They formed the band Musikalben Stadl, notorious for retro rock with a disco attitude and the scent of lavender. In 2022, they showed up unannounced at Schönbrunn Zoo, dressed as flamingos, and played an hour-long guitar solo for a hypnotized pensioner. A year later, they allegedly hijacked a broken jukebox from the Technical Museum to sample their...

Polymir and Slagadov, the legendary brothers from Yusolavia, arrived in Vienna in 2004 with half an accordion and a suitcase full of glitter powder. They formed the band Musikalben Stadl, notorious for retro rock with a disco attitude and the scent of lavender. In 2022, they showed up unannounced at Schönbrunn Zoo, dressed as flamingos, and played an hour-long guitar solo for a hypnotized pensioner. A year later, they allegedly hijacked a broken jukebox from the Technical Museum to sample their tour intro—the result: a 7-minute track consisting of Morse code, the Blue Danube Waltz, and synth screams. Rumor has it they live in a subway shaft beneath St. Stephen's Cathedral, wallpapered with disco balls. Their EP “Stroboskop & Sauerkraut” is considered dangerously intoxicating – two bars are enough to trigger spontaneous dance fits.

Gargle Blaster are five gray, slender aliens from the planet Tepharion in the constellation Orion. Their first encounter with humanity came via the Voyager probe—and what began as a scientific observation became a pop-cultural awakening. In the late 1990s, they landed in the Brecon Beacons of Wales—in the middle of a nighttime rave organized by the Super Furry Animals. Attracted by the lights and sounds, the visitors from space befriended the band and stayed on Earth for three weeks. During ...

Gargle Blaster are five gray, slender aliens from the planet Tepharion in the constellation Orion. Their first encounter with humanity came via the Voyager probe—and what began as a scientific observation became a pop-cultural awakening. In the late 1990s, they landed in the Brecon Beacons of Wales—in the middle of a nighttime rave organized by the Super Furry Animals. Attracted by the lights and sounds, the visitors from space befriended the band and stayed on Earth for three weeks. During this time, they learned guitar, bass, synths, and drums—and fell in love with psychedelic rock. Back on their home planet, they spent 25 years in an orbit of rehearsal space and stardust until they felt ready to send a demo tape to Capitol Records. Today, in 2025, Gargle Blaster are headlining the Coachella Festival—Earth's first intergalactic rock band. Their music is spacey, uplifting, and completely otherworldly. And yes: They really do look like Skinny Bob.

Jasper Moon wasn't born—he was made of electricity. In the smoky nights of Red Hollow, a town that never slept, he played his first chords on a broken guitar in the back alley of a strip club. Nobody believed in him until his song "All Night and All of the Day" blared out of the radio—a wild mix of filth, desire, and rebellion. Jasper never talked much, but when he played, everything was said. His gaze? Like a storm. His voice? Like a speed camera in the darkness. He lives on the road, from ...

Jasper Moon wasn't born—he was made of electricity. In the smoky nights of Red Hollow, a town that never slept, he played his first chords on a broken guitar in the back alley of a strip club. Nobody believed in him until his song "All Night and All of the Day" blared out of the radio—a wild mix of filth, desire, and rebellion. Jasper never talked much, but when he played, everything was said. His gaze? Like a storm. His voice? Like a speed camera in the darkness. He lives on the road, from motel to stage, always escaping stagnation. Always on the hunt for the next riff.

Karussell – Karl Hubert & Sellomon There's more than just music behind the name Karussell – it's a father-son story full of rough edges and a good dose of humor. Karl Hubert, a bon vivant with a penchant for schadenfreude, and his son Sellomon now make music together that goes deep – because it tells of experiences that run even deeper. When Sellomon was little, his father regularly sent him on wild carousel rides – not for educational reasons or for childish joy, but for pure amusement....

Karussell – Karl Hubert & Sellomon There's more than just music behind the name Karussell – it's a father-son story full of rough edges and a good dose of humor. Karl Hubert, a bon vivant with a penchant for schadenfreude, and his son Sellomon now make music together that goes deep – because it tells of experiences that run even deeper. When Sellomon was little, his father regularly sent him on wild carousel rides – not for educational reasons or for childish joy, but for pure amusement. While the son's stomach churned, the father's diaphragm only spun with laughter. These experiences – absurd, loving, and somewhere between harmless torture and genuine affection – left their mark. Years later, the childhood trauma became art: father and son founded the music project Karussell. What began as a way of processing something quickly became a common language. In their songs, melancholic lines meet light melodies, emotional depth meets tongue-in-cheek flashbacks. They tell of childhood, misunderstandings, closeness, and the attempt to understand each other across generations. And even if some things are still the same today as they were in the past, one thing remains certain: Karl Hubert can't help but regularly ask his son with a grin: "Hey, another round?"

SUCK - That's actually Claus Kohlmeier – once an astrologer, now a beat maker. Claus originally studied astrology in Bielefeld. He spent nights analyzing constellations and finding meaning in celestial patterns. His passion was the constellations, the subtle movements in the sky – always searching for hidden messages from the universe. Today, he writes successful house tracks – not to shine, but to observe young people dancing. In the movement of bodies, he now recognizes what he once soug...

SUCK - That's actually Claus Kohlmeier – once an astrologer, now a beat maker. Claus originally studied astrology in Bielefeld. He spent nights analyzing constellations and finding meaning in celestial patterns. His passion was the constellations, the subtle movements in the sky – always searching for hidden messages from the universe. Today, he writes successful house tracks – not to shine, but to observe young people dancing. In the movement of bodies, he now recognizes what he once sought in the sky: rhythm, connection, destiny. His conviction: "Men must dance."

The Tokio Lovers are Chicago's newest disco export – mysterious, masculine, and extremely danceable. Since the beginning of 2025, the trio has been filling sold-out clubs like the Velvet Garden and Loop Light week after week with their pulsating blend of funk, retro electro, and glittering 70s flair. Always in their signature look: white suits, black sunglasses, mustaches – as if Kraftwerk had gotten stuck on a Studio 54 trip. Behind the desks: Marco Vento – the stoic synth wizard, former ...

The Tokio Lovers are Chicago's newest disco export – mysterious, masculine, and extremely danceable. Since the beginning of 2025, the trio has been filling sold-out clubs like the Velvet Garden and Loop Light week after week with their pulsating blend of funk, retro electro, and glittering 70s flair. Always in their signature look: white suits, black sunglasses, mustaches – as if Kraftwerk had gotten stuck on a Studio 54 trip. Behind the desks: Marco Vento – the stoic synth wizard, former jazz keyboardist in a big band. Luis "Lui" Romano – a groove tinkerer with a penchant for old drum machines and cheap Italo-pop. And Darren Bloom, the left-handed guitarist with the pink Flying V – quiet, charming, eccentric. Their debut album, "Disco Dot" (2025), officially consists of just a pink dot and 32 minutes of dance frenzy. No name, no label, no Spotify – just vinyl and cassettes, sold directly from the tour bus. The hype? Real. The faces? Unclear. The shows? Neon, fog, nostalgia. Anyone who has seen them live swears: This isn't a band – it's a movement.

Me-eat-you-eat-me – The Baron of Boheme Born as the last scion of a long-forgotten aristocratic family in the venerable halls of a Victorian estate west of London, Me-eat-you-eat-me’s fate – never confirmed as a civil servant – initially seemed sealed in courtly reserve and etiquette. But even at an early age, he began to escape these dusty conventions. He rebelled not with words, but with sound, fabric, and glitter. The decadent nights of London’s underground clubs in the 2000s became...

Me-eat-you-eat-me – The Baron of Boheme Born as the last scion of a long-forgotten aristocratic family in the venerable halls of a Victorian estate west of London, Me-eat-you-eat-me’s fate – never confirmed as a civil servant – initially seemed sealed in courtly reserve and etiquette. But even at an early age, he began to escape these dusty conventions. He rebelled not with words, but with sound, fabric, and glitter. The decadent nights of London’s underground clubs in the 2000s became his stage – somewhere between the ghost of Andy Warhol, Studio 54, and Camden Punk. His performances: a kaleidoscope of disco, chaos, and baroque self-dramatization. His fashion: opulent, eccentric, always with a rose somewhere on his lapel. The press called him "the lost Duke of the Night," others simply a neo-dandy with a synthesizer. But Me-eat-you-eat-me defied any stereotype. Instead, he founded his own label and fused pop art, aristocratic melancholy, and hypnotic nu disco into a sound that is both danceable and liberating. Today, he is considered a symbol of a new bohemian culture—one who has long since consumed himself and recreated himself.

Wallraf sits enthroned in a cloud temple that trembles with the reverberation of his music. He is the current reigning guitar god, master of distortion and echo. His long, white hair blows in the wind of his own sounds. His playing dominates the sky. Every note pierces the clouds, unleashes storms or paints sunrises. Stars twinkle in time, the wind pauses, his temple is a place where echoes never fade away. Sometimes he wonders if there will be a final chord...

Wallraf sits enthroned in a cloud temple that trembles with the reverberation of his music. He is the current reigning guitar god, master of distortion and echo. His long, white hair blows in the wind of his own sounds. His playing dominates the sky. Every note pierces the clouds, unleashes storms or paints sunrises. Stars twinkle in time, the wind pauses, his temple is a place where echoes never fade away. Sometimes he wonders if there will be a final chord...

Gustavo lived on a cloud. On a small cloud, fluffy and soft, cheerful to cloudy. He didn't think much of rain. The lightness that was inherent in him did not allow water to form. Only his constant melancholy produced the odd tear, but these were all too often punished with a loud laugh from his half-brother Wallraf, who sat enthroned in his cloud temple and had had an eye on him since childhood. Gustavo was a dreamer. And one dream in particular repeated itself very often. In it, he floated gent...

Gustavo lived on a cloud. On a small cloud, fluffy and soft, cheerful to cloudy. He didn't think much of rain. The lightness that was inherent in him did not allow water to form. Only his constant melancholy produced the odd tear, but these were all too often punished with a loud laugh from his half-brother Wallraf, who sat enthroned in his cloud temple and had had an eye on him since childhood. Gustavo was a dreamer. And one dream in particular repeated itself very often. In it, he floated gently towards the earth as the proud captain of a withered maple leaf and composed the floating poem from above, which was renamed Falling Down for purely marketing purposes.

Hans-Jürgen Blütenfeld - the unforgettable pop star of the 70s, known for his velvety voice and charismatic appearance. With hits like "Wenn die Nacht erwachen" he enchanted audiences and became an icon of the era. His songs, full of romance and joie de vivre, reflect the carefree feeling of that time and made him a national favorite. "Wenn die Nacht erwachen" is his biggest hit, a hymn of love and the moment that lives on in the hearts of pop fans to this day. Hans-Jürgen Blütenfeld - the m...

Hans-Jürgen Blütenfeld - the unforgettable pop star of the 70s, known for his velvety voice and charismatic appearance. With hits like "Wenn die Nacht erwachen" he enchanted audiences and became an icon of the era. His songs, full of romance and joie de vivre, reflect the carefree feeling of that time and made him a national favorite. "Wenn die Nacht erwachen" is his biggest hit, a hymn of love and the moment that lives on in the hearts of pop fans to this day. Hans-Jürgen Blütenfeld - the man who brought the night to life.

The year was 1492. Hans had everything a man could wish for—a devoted, beautiful wife, a fine house, and two healthy children. And yet, a restless longing gnawed at him, an urge he couldn’t quite understand. It was as if an invisible force was calling him away, pulling him toward the unknown.

One early morning, before the first rooster crowed, he left his home. He had no destination, no certainty—only the faint hope of finding himself along the way. He wandered through villa...

The year was 1492. Hans had everything a man could wish for—a devoted, beautiful wife, a fine house, and two healthy children. And yet, a restless longing gnawed at him, an urge he couldn’t quite understand. It was as if an invisible force was calling him away, pulling him toward the unknown.

One early morning, before the first rooster crowed, he left his home. He had no destination, no certainty—only the faint hope of finding himself along the way. He wandered through villages and forests, across hills and rivers, but the farther he walked, the smaller he felt—like a needle in a haystack. Doubts crept in, but something deep inside him kept him moving forward.

Weeks turned into months until he finally reached Rome. The towering walls, the bustling squares, the chaotic symphony of merchants and pilgrims—the Eternal City overwhelmed him. Yet his journey was not complete. With the last of his strength, he pressed on, step by step, until he reached the sea. The endless horizon, the rhythmic crash of waves—here, at the edge of the world, his body gave in. He collapsed.

The townspeople found him, carried him back to Rome, and took him to an inn in the city’s heart. There, in a dimly lit chamber overlooking the rooftops, he let his emotions flow into a song. “Sun Over Rome”—a melody of longing and arrival, of vastness and confinement, of light and shadow. He played it on his lute, and those who heard it fell silent in awe.

Years passed, the lute fell silent, and the notes faded. Yet, the song lived on—carried by voices, remembered by those who, even today, wander through Rome in search of themselves.

And so, we are delighted to present multiple versions of Hans’ only hit on this EP—ensuring that his “Sun Over Rome” continues to shine.

Jesse “Dust” Callahan grew up in Tennessee with nothing but an old guitar and a voice full of longing. It wasn’t until he was 45 that he made his breakthrough – his raw sound and dark lyrics made him a sensation. In just five years, he played to sold-out crowds, but fame took its toll.

The pressure to keep going became unbearable. Whiskey was no longer enough; painkillers turned into hard drugs. His voice broke, concerts were canceled, and one day, he simply disappeared. R...

Jesse “Dust” Callahan grew up in Tennessee with nothing but an old guitar and a voice full of longing. It wasn’t until he was 45 that he made his breakthrough – his raw sound and dark lyrics made him a sensation. In just five years, he played to sold-out crowds, but fame took its toll.

The pressure to keep going became unbearable. Whiskey was no longer enough; painkillers turned into hard drugs. His voice broke, concerts were canceled, and one day, he simply disappeared. Radios played his songs, fans mourned. His music sounded as if he had always known he would lose the battle against himself.

More of a traveler than a musician, Андрей escaped the cold of Moscow at an early age. Driven by inner restlessness and a spirit of discovery, he chased his ever-elusive dream of freedom. He first settled in Japan for a while but grew weary of the omnipresent enthusiasm for imitation. His journey of exploration then led him through various Asian destinations to Southern Europe. There, he immersed himself in the music of the American boheme and explored all the alternative currents of elect...

More of a traveler than a musician, Андрей escaped the cold of Moscow at an early age. Driven by inner restlessness and a spirit of discovery, he chased his ever-elusive dream of freedom. He first settled in Japan for a while but grew weary of the omnipresent enthusiasm for imitation. His journey of exploration then led him through various Asian destinations to Southern Europe. There, he immersed himself in the music of the American boheme and explored all the alternative currents of electronic music. With the rise of AI, he reflects on his early days in Japan, experimenting with AI-generated replication algorithms and rediscovering the freedom of repetition.

Cheese Us is one of the most extraordinary and mysterious figures in the modern art and pop culture world. His name, which in its timbre implies both allusions to cheese and to a messiah, reflects the peculiar mixture of sacredness, irony and subversion that make his works unique. In his youth he joined the Popular Front of Judea, a notorious underground movement that fought for freedom, noble mold and against institutional oppression. The experiences he had there deeply influenced his later wor...

Cheese Us is one of the most extraordinary and mysterious figures in the modern art and pop culture world. His name, which in its timbre implies both allusions to cheese and to a messiah, reflects the peculiar mixture of sacredness, irony and subversion that make his works unique. In his youth he joined the Popular Front of Judea, a notorious underground movement that fought for freedom, noble mold and against institutional oppression. The experiences he had there deeply influenced his later works. His time with the Popular Front is often interpreted as a phase of search for identity and meaning, which he later channeled into his art. Over time, a veritable movement developed around Cheese Us, often referred to as the "cheese cult". This fanatical veneration began after Cheese Us presented his first iconic installation: "The Milky Illumination", a work consisting of a melting cheese sculpture glowing in the light of a single candle. The cult believes that cheese - in its transformation from milk into a rich, complex product - symbolizes life and the creative process itself. Cheese Us became their prophet, their spiritual leader and their artistic idol. Cheese Us is not only an artist, but also a mystery. His fans and followers celebrate him as a creator and visionary, while critics accuse him of wrapping himself in absurd myths to attract attention. But one thing is undisputed: Cheese Us has created a new dimension of interaction between artist and audience with his art and the cult surrounding him. His message remains - like a well-ripened cheese - multi-layered: transformation, devotion and the celebration of life in all its facets. Forever. Amen.

Dr. DR, born in 1977 as Dietrich Reinhard in a small town near Stuttgart, discovered his love of language early on and received his doctorate in 2001 on rhythmic semantics in urban poetry. During his studies he got to know American hip hop, started rapping himself and was discovered by a US producer at a battle in Berlin. In Los Angeles, despite initial skepticism, he integrated himself into the West Coast scene by combining Goethe quotes and German literature with G-Funk beats. With tracks like...

Dr. DR, born in 1977 as Dietrich Reinhard in a small town near Stuttgart, discovered his love of language early on and received his doctorate in 2001 on rhythmic semantics in urban poetry. During his studies he got to know American hip hop, started rapping himself and was discovered by a US producer at a battle in Berlin. In Los Angeles, despite initial skepticism, he integrated himself into the West Coast scene by combining Goethe quotes and German literature with G-Funk beats. With tracks like "Schiller in the Hood" he worked his way to the top and collaborated with stars like Kendrick Lamar and Snoop Dogg. After his successful album "The Heidelberg Chronicles" and some controversy, he retired from the limelight in 2023 and is now a professor of urban poetry at UCLA.

Promptomat – The Hypnotic One-Man Show from Bremen

Behind the artist name Promptomat stands Hans-Jürgen Keller, a 50-year-old light artist from the Hanseatic city of Bremen, Germany. Initially, Hans-Jürgen had no connection to music. As a passionate creator of light installations, his love was devoted to architecture and visual art.

However, the rapid development of sound AIs opened up a new creative world for him. With a simple two-line prompt, Hans-Jürgen now...

Promptomat – The Hypnotic One-Man Show from Bremen

Behind the artist name Promptomat stands Hans-Jürgen Keller, a 50-year-old light artist from the Hanseatic city of Bremen, Germany. Initially, Hans-Jürgen had no connection to music. As a passionate creator of light installations, his love was devoted to architecture and visual art.

However, the rapid development of sound AIs opened up a new creative world for him. With a simple two-line prompt, Hans-Jürgen now creates hypnotic soundscapes that he brings to life with his impressive light installations. His basement studio is the heart of this process: neon lights in all imaginable colors, two or three glittering disco balls, and a unique atmosphere transform the room into an artificial night of lights.

Once a month, Promptomat dedicates himself to his ritual: in the middle of this sea of lights, he dances alone, deeply immersed in a trance-like state where music, light, and movement merge into one. It’s not a conventional performance but an intimate, almost meditative journey that belongs only to him.

x Tica, real name Farhad Hangabi, is a visionary artist from Tehran, Iran. Born and raised in the vibrant capital, Farhad discovered his passion for music and philosophy at an early age. Unfortunately, from a young age he repeatedly encountered strict restrictions and came into contact with the censorship laws of his government, which viewed his music as a provocation and a danger to the general public. In order to realize his creative visions, he often had to go into hiding and ended up at ille...

x Tica, real name Farhad Hangabi, is a visionary artist from Tehran, Iran. Born and raised in the vibrant capital, Farhad discovered his passion for music and philosophy at an early age. Unfortunately, from a young age he repeatedly encountered strict restrictions and came into contact with the censorship laws of his government, which viewed his music as a provocation and a danger to the general public. In order to realize his creative visions, he often had to go into hiding and ended up at illegal raves in the desert, where he found access to the electronic music scene alongside his classical music education. Farhad's influences from this period include the experimental sounds of Aphex Twin and Boards of Canada, the atmospheric soundscapes of Brian Eno, and the philosophical lyrics of Leonard Cohen, particularly his themes on the "ambivalence of human existence" and the "search for spiritual fulfillment." Traditional oriental music and the hypnotic rhythms of Sufi chanting also play an important role. These experiences shaped his distinctive style and his ongoing connection to electronic music. Currently inspired by the Revolutionary League of the Romantically Confused (Kakumeiteki Hi-mote Domei), x Tica combines elements of EDM, electronic pop and classical works to create a unique soundscape. His music is a journey through the depths of the human psyche and the vastness of the universe, shaped by themes such as entropy and technological change, truth, simulation and spirituality. With albums such as "Cyclic Shatter (خرد کردن Khard Kardan)" and "Alpha, Beta, هیچی (Nothingness)", x Taca has built a loyal fan base that appreciates his ability to translate philosophical/spiritual concepts into accessible and emotional music. Linguistically, he draws on both traditional Persian singing and contemporary English from a cyberpunk milieu. His rare live performances in front of larger audiences are known for their haunting visuals and the spiritual approval of his fans, transporting the audience to another dimension.

Noel Grinch, born on 24 December 1987 in Duluth, Minnesota, is one of the best-known Christmas critics in the world. He was shaped by a tragedy: on Christmas Eve 1997, he lost his parents in a house fire. While other children were opening presents, he stood in the cold and watched his home go up in flames. Since then, Noel has seen Christmas as a symbol of hypocrisy and consumerism.

In 2017, he gained international fame with his ‘Stop the Santa Madness’ campaign, which was direc...

Noel Grinch, born on 24 December 1987 in Duluth, Minnesota, is one of the best-known Christmas critics in the world. He was shaped by a tragedy: on Christmas Eve 1997, he lost his parents in a house fire. While other children were opening presents, he stood in the cold and watched his home go up in flames. Since then, Noel has seen Christmas as a symbol of hypocrisy and consumerism.

In 2017, he gained international fame with his ‘Stop the Santa Madness’ campaign, which was directed against the cult of Christmas. With protest marches in front of shopping centres and heated actions, he escalated the issue to such an extent that it was even debated before the US Senate.

In 2021, Noel released his album ‘Black-X-mas’, a biting mix of dark ballads and electronic beats. With songs such as ‘Jingle Hell’ and ‘Deck the Lies’, he surprisingly stormed the charts in Latvia and Romania, where many identified with his criticism.

In addition to his music, he wrote the bestseller ‘The Red and Green Nightmare’ and produced the award-winning documentary ‘Under the Tree Lies the Truth’. Noel Grinch polarises, but he forces the world to critically question Christmas. His aim? To liberate the festive season from consumerism and pretence.