This article was automatically translated by AI.
Well, I am committed to the old punk rock school; we used to make music for the message, and I think that has somewhat faded in recent years in OI, punk, and hardcore. In hardcore, it’s only about: "I’ll beat my opponent to death"; in punk rock, it’s only about smashing things, and in OI! it’s only about "drinking, fucking, playing football". In the end, we asked ourselves where the message has gone. I have nothing against people who make funny little songs, no problem, but where has the spirit gone? And we just said we don’t want to make another new record again, because the last two were quite close together, and we said let’s do something special, because we also have our own label, let’s do what suits us, what might not sell, but what fits. And so we made an audio play. It’s called Prekariat, composed of the word proletarian, meaning the working class, and the word precarious; it’s about this lower-class discussion in Germany, where it’s about what to call the people who have fallen through the social safety net, the Hartz4 people. We then created an audio play where a guy reflects on his life, on the stages of his decline, and it’s divided into five areas, each with a monologue and the corresponding songs; the whole thing lasts 30 minutes, so you can really listen through it. The message is ultimately exaggerated, and people really need to engage with it because it just doesn’t work any other way. That’s what we wanted it to come across as.
Sounds great. Will it come out on CD and LP?
For now, just CD. We really like vinyl, but the problem is we do everything ourselves. And our financial framework is tiny; we’ll be lucky if 20-30 people come tonight. It’s possible that we might release vinyl later; we would really wish for that. But as I said, we also have to see what we can sell to get the money back.
In Ox, you gave an interview more than a year ago, where you mentioned that it’s quite hard for small bands to get gigs. Has anything changed?
Well, we do everything ourselves; we handle the booking ourselves. We said we still have a few people who do a bit of promotion for us, but we do the rest ourselves, simply because we’ve learned that the punk rock industry is an industry. The term punk rock industry is actually a joke in itself, and it’s an industry where we always fall through the cracks, where you’re always at the bottom. We got tired of that and now do everything ourselves. And it’s hard for us to play in certain venues because they just say, "Who are you?" We’re from the band such-and-such, bye! No one cares who you are. But as soon as you have a label, a big label, and a large booking agency, they would call and say: "Look, if you don’t let them play here, you won’t get this band, and before you know it, you’re in those venues." For example, it’s also difficult to get into a good festival. We’re only playing at Force Attack because I’ve known Imre for years and because he likes us. Otherwise, those are the kinds of things that are difficult. Small clubs where we really like to play, I prefer the hundred-capacity ones; this is almost too big for me, it’s perfectly fine, and when it’s packed, it’s really fun. That’s okay; we can manage that. But getting into a cool festival or something larger is very difficult. But that’s because we don’t have a background, which we also don’t want; we live with that, and that’s okay.
But you’ve now founded your own label?
Yes, we have our own label.
Previously with another one?
Yes, previously with Coretex Records from Berlin, which fell apart for financial reasons. It just doesn’t work because you’re always the one getting screwed. Now we really do what we want; we do everything ourselves, and it just fits. We’re quite happy with it, and it works quite well.
You just mentioned the lyrics; they’re all very political and engaged. Is that a kind of outlet?
How should I put it? I have a lot of anger inside; I could vomit all day. And I see many things differently than many others might. My problem is that, for example, this politically correct thing annoys me. I’m supposed to sing the way the left wants, always sing against the right, and have no own position. Those are the demands; otherwise, the punk rockers say: "Why are you doing this and that? It doesn’t belong to our scene!" But as a person, I have ideals, ideas, goals, and wishes for how life could be easier. If many things weren’t so messed up, if we could all come together more, not consume so much all day, and not let ourselves be influenced so much by the industry, by authorities, etc. Hardcore punk is an outlet. I don’t separate it; I mix everything together, you go out, go off for an hour, give it your all, it frees you, and we usually only play for an hour because I’m just done afterward. And then sometimes you have people who listen, like you. Or you have people who come up to you after the concert and tell you that what you said in that song is really good, and those are good moments for me and also good moments for us as a band. That means we are COR, and we are a message. We are rock’n’roll and a message. That’s very important, and one cannot be separated from the other.
What interests me is that you are also with Troopers...
That’s over. As I just said, I have ideals. A man, a word. I go to play rock’n’roll; I drive 500 km, give it my all, and then go home. I try not to offend people, not to harm them; I try to treat others the way I want to be treated. I didn’t find that with Troopers. It fell apart on a human level. At first, it went very well with Atze, and then it became increasingly difficult. We were both with the same record label, and when we showed the label the finger (note: with COR), it got really tough. Atze said, you can’t do that, and we said, of course, we can do that. They’re screwing me, so I’m doing this, the axe in the forest right through, you sang. I like him as a person to some extent. He’s a very smart guy and a good guy, but he has the wrong friends, the wrong people. We just separated because our life paths diverged.
I listened to "Mein Kopf dem Henker gehört" for the first time on Friday and found it so meaningless that I thought, when I hear COR, how do you do that?
I had nothing to do with Troopers. Atze came to us, we rehearsed, and he brought everything; that was it. Atze said it would be nice this way, I sat down and played. I loved Troopers; I really like the first record. The first one is a killer album for me. I got it as a teenager when I was 16 and thought: "Dude, what a killer record. Böhse Onkelz are nothing compared to this." The last stuff wasn’t really my thing either. But I’m not ashamed; it was a good time. I made many contacts through it, and part of the band was mine, and when it got to the point where too much wasn’t ours anymore, meaning Matze and mine, we called it quits. It was also a fair cut; we informed him half a year in advance that he could look for new people, and then it was over.
What interests me is how you manage with two bands?
Passion. In passion, there’s not without suffering. I’ve been on Hartz4 since the beginning, social welfare, everything. I’ve gone through a lot health-wise in recent years, which is why I can’t play drums anymore. Last year, I had major back surgery; I couldn’t walk for a quarter of a year, but everything is back to normal now. It was a huge balancing act. I was also done and just couldn’t anymore; I had no motivation left. Now it’s such that I have a job again, Matze does too, and the other two live off the band. We’ve managed that the guitarist and the drummer live off the band through the label. And the two of us have our jobs, which always allow us to go out and play. It used to be a huge balancing act. Because I also did it 100% and it just consumes you. And if it doesn’t fit 100% with you, you push something like that away; it just didn’t work anymore.
Are you planning to release other bands on your label Rügencore?
We would like to, but we haven’t found anything that we really like yet.
How is it in general, do you play more in the East?
We played a lot in the old federal states this year, and we sometimes feel like it’s going better in the West than in the East. Really good gigs, for example, Ingolstadt went off like crazy. Overall, we can’t complain at all. Some days like today, where there are fewer people, are totally fine. We usually draw 50-100 people, and anyone who thinks we draw more is delusional. It also always depends on the region. Many think we draw more; we don’t know why.
Maybe because of your music. I always think when people are so obviously engaged and think about it, there must be more coming...
Many people also find that annoying, too much message. We don’t care about that, and you always find people who come back and like it. That’s what it’s really about. You won’t become a millionaire with that. Mike from Punishable Act once said it perfectly: If you want to make big money with this music, you’re definitely in the wrong scene. And it shouldn’t be that way.
How is the scene on Rügen?
Yes, Rügen is a thing of its own. Everyone always asks. We founded an association for bands so that we also have a rehearsal room. There are about 10 bands in it. It’s all mixed up from metalcore, punk rock to hardcore. There are about 50-100 people in total, and everyone likes each other and hangs out together. The problem is that so many have left, and everything has scattered. Because we’re now there and many bands are emerging, also good bands, a certain scene has formed. We do a festival on Rügen once a year and also play once a year. Last year at the festival, we had 650 people, just small bands, all mixed up, had a great party.
Do you manage to cover the costs?
With support. We had a five-euro entrance fee, and you can’t realize that otherwise.
How do you as a band perceive the audience? Are you annoyed when people just stand around, or do you play your set anyway?
"To Johannes: The drummer has it good; he can hide." The problem is, it depends on the day’s condition. In the end, I don’t care. What I can’t understand is that people come, pay 5 or 7 euros, know who’s playing beforehand, and just stand around and are bored. I can at least demand that they do this (clap hands), and if they don’t do that, I assume they don’t like it, and then they can go home. Soundcheck is annoying for us, for example. It’s important to do it to ensure the sound is good. But you have no feeling there; it’s lame, it drags on. When it starts, the switch flips, and you blast through the set. Then you say everything is good, drink a non-alcoholic beer, sit in the bus, and be happy.
Maybe one more tour anecdote?
That’s a question that comes up often. What do you experience? What’s going on? Actually, it’s boring as hell. You get in the car, pack the stuff, and then you drive off. You drive 500-600 km; today it was only 300, which is a joke, then you arrive, set up, and do soundcheck. Then you sit there and wait. Sometimes someone comes and does an interview; that’s a nice way to pass the time. Then eventually, it starts, and you play. Then you’re done, wait again to see if you can shower somewhere, and then you get back in and drive home. I don’t know how other bands do it; the guys drink and go crazy, but I’m tired and go to sleep. And funny things? What fascinates me personally is that I thought I was already a bit crazy, but there are always people who top that by 10-20 times. What accidents we’ve had in front of the stage. Jumped in and broke a collarbone, broke a nose, fell in bloodied somewhere. And they stand there and say: YEAH! I once knocked someone over with a cast arm. I ran down, jumped off the stage, and hit him right in the face with the cast arm, but not on purpose. He came up to me afterward and said: "Dude, that was so awesome!" And I said: "Okay, if you had a good evening, that’s fine!" You see a lot of broken people, and it’s actually good that there are so many crazy people in the world, even in Germany, that you don’t see but have a nice twist. They don’t disturb you and are funny, and that’s the good thing about making music.
You’ve now released 6 or 7 things. What’s next, where do you want to go?
Yeah, I don’t know either. We’re not artists. I can’t sing particularly well; the only one who can do a bit is the guitarist; he’s quite decent, Johannes can play drums quite well, the bassist is more like me. They’re not really works of art and shouldn’t be either. I write quite a bit; I don’t know why; I always sit down and just write, probably a gift. Then I fill 20-30-40-50 pages. And you have to do something with it. We also like to rehearse; we like to meet. I spend more time with the band than with my girlfriend. And then we sit there and say let’s make a nice song. And then we make one, and if it’s cool, we finish it, and then there are 10 or 12, and since we have our own record company, we say let’s go to the studio.
Optimal
We’re currently rehearsing a bit less because I’m working again. But otherwise, it’s at least two or three times a week. Because we all live together in one city. We like that too. And if we don’t feel like it, we say: turn off the crap, let’s chat a bit. We’re quite stress-free about it. Actually, it’s unremarkable.
It’s also a principle of mine, and the guys have taken it on super well; it was like that with Tonnensturz too, you should be 4 friends, like in football. No airs, everyone treats each other decently; we yell at each other twice a year, and that’s it. Everything else goes smoothly.
How was the gig at Force Attack?
It was really awesome. Force Attack was amazing. It was 4 PM. And we were a bit nervous. And then there was 10 or 15 minutes of continuous encore shouting, which was almost embarrassing. We were quite blown away. Sometimes it works out.
Yes, we have no more questions. Thank you very much.
(There followed an extensive chat during which I regretted turning off the dictaphone time and again and a very great concert. Anyone who hasn’t seen the guys should take every opportunity!)
When they were recently in Hamburg, I took the opportunity with Micha to do a little interview with the singer Friedemann, who was occasionally joined by the drummer Johannes. The conversation was extremely entertaining, and Friedemann is someone who knows what he's talking about and doesn't hold back.
