There are bands that age like a fine whisky: they become more complex, gain depth, but lose none of their sharpness. And then there are bands like SLIME – which were once not a whisky, but a Molotov cocktail. “3!+7hoch1” is not a bad album. It is an honest album – and that is exactly the problem. Because anyone who, like me, grew up with “Schweineherbst” knows: SLIME were never a drink for connoisseurs, but an arson attack on the facade. Today, over four decades later, it still burns – but differently. The band, which internally calls itself “Slime 3”, has not betrayed itself, but evolved. And that is as fascinating as it is sobering.
Tex Brasket no longer just roars on “3!+7hoch1” – he grapples. With the world, with himself, with the expectation that a band like Slime should still radiate the same untamed rage as decades ago. But times have changed, and so have SLIME. The dynamics of the album – this back and forth between raw energy and melodic reflection – is no coincidence, but a program. The walls of guitars from the past have given way to a composed, almost rock-like sound that gives Tex's voice more space. This is bold and necessary, because the lyrics deserve to be heard. When he sings in “Euch will ich sehen” about how quickly our seemingly secure world can collapse into war, crisis, or chaos, he does so with an unleashed intensity that proves: The anger is still there – but it has become bewildered. No more blind “Everything is broken!”, but the question: “What remains when everything collapses?” – and that is more relevant today, in times of multiple crises, than ever.
But this is also where the dilemma lies. SLIME were never a band that settled for half-baked answers. “Evolution” dissects the dead ends of human progress with an irony that shows: The band has lost none of its critical sharpness. And “Monster” proves that SLIME can also address vulnerability and doubt without slipping into self-pity. That is new. That is good.
However, the album is weakest when it tries to create a sentimental sing-along romance. “Armes Deutschland” – a thickly applied opening song that feels like hip-hop poses simply laid over punk rock guitars. Or “Bock auf Leben”, a calculated nostalgia for rebellion that sounds so deliberate that one wonders: For whom, actually? For the festival crowd that raises their fists in the air during the chorus? For the nostalgia buyers who want to remember the old days? Both groups are served, but none are truly reached. Hooray, we are here, we are such wild punks – and another beer for life? No one needs that. And another guitar solo afterwards! Mood rock?
Rocko Schamoni wrote about SLIME: “They could break through walls of steel with their music.” “3!+7hoch1” breaks through nothing. It is a fat, professional album – but it lacks the urgency of the past. The anger is there, the lyrics are strong, the production is solid. But where is the song that not only pleases but also shakes you awake?
“3!+7hoch1” is not a milestone, but a necessary step. SLIME have evolved – and that is better than stagnation. Perhaps that is the price of maturity: you become wiser, but lose your innocence. It is a good album – but one that runs smoothly without exploding. And sometimes, just sometimes, you wish they would smash everything to bits once more. Just because. Because they can.
