1. Scenes
I’m 18 and drive my first car, grey, small, used, 25 kilometres to vocational school and back each weekday (Year 12, economics stream). On my burned CDs and a USB stick with limited storage are tracks spanning Hyperpop, Electropop, Electropunk, Hip-Hop, and Techno. It’s 2008. The final exams for the vocational A-levels are approaching. My general mood swings between pressure and relief.
My view of the world feels secure. The future promises, on a personal level, fun, self-development, and the freedoms of adult life; on a societal level, peace, economic growth, and a powerful passport.
Six months later, I’ve just turned 19. Deichkind’s fourth studio album, Arbeit nervt, is released. The track Hört ihr die Signale briefly becomes an anthem for a newly formed group of first-year design students in Munich.
I’m 35 now, invited to dinner. At some point, we create a shared playlist and each explain our song choices. Out of nostalgia, I play Saalschutz, Jeans Team, Räuberhöhle, and Deichkind. On the S-Bahn home, I listen to Hört ihr die Signale for the first time in 15 years. I put it on repeat and fall hard.
Mentally, I’m back in the car, driving country roads, unsure how my life would turn out — whether I’d make it on student grants and part-time jobs, find fulfilling work, or become happy at all. Instead of pride, I feel betrayed.
"I was too young and too broke to understand the financial crisis."
Back then, I heard lines like “Cops, fat cats, banks, all need to refuel, ’cause no one is illegal, least of all when they’re high” with total agreement, without really understanding them.
The transition from village discos and Red Bull to big-city club culture, gin and tonics, ecstasy, political awareness, and activism happened smoothly. I was too young and too broke to understand the financial crisis. My life seemed brighter than before, and that felt like enough.
The peaceful hedonism, party-compatible political chants, excess-fuelled slogans, and critique wrapped in trash culture that once thrilled me now make me look at the present with disbelief.
How naive I was. There were no border checks, no direct nuclear threats. The fascists weren’t yet in power. I sang along without worry.
2. Hedonism
The lyric “No god, no state, just give me a drink” stuck with me. Boundlessness, surrender, openness, autonomy — where political and personal, ideology and excess, overlapped.
“Live and let live,” preferably high. “No god, no state, no patriarchy” is still one of my favourite feminist demands. Self-determination doesn’t exclude social responsibility, but state and religious control mechanisms often do.
When PA69 released Arbeitslos in 2024, it quickly became one of my favourites. It’s about the desire to drink instead of work — a rejection of meritocracy, hustle culture, and performance-driven identity:
“You’re proud of your job and the money you make, I can’t be arsed with work, love to my doctor.”
I smile wearily. The self-deception, the hopelessness, the cruelty of being your own boss while clinging to self-fulfilment like a lifeline. I still appreciate the refusal of work, even after 16 years.
Probably because most of my life has been shaped by financial stress and constant labour. “Retire at 30, time to clock out for good” sounds like a dream, but one that’s deeply unrealistic. Ending up on state support again? Far more likely. But then again: party hard, sleep in.
3. Politics
The European Union is closing its borders. Wars, climate disasters, human rights violations, antisemitism, racism. Far-right parties win elections. Traditional gender roles are reinforced. Self-determination is under attack.
Young people are becoming radicalised. The baseball bat years are back.
I’m on a panel about arts funding cuts. Ten people are speaking. I’m the only artist. The rest are politicians — plus a former festival director and a theatre manager.
An artist in the audience interrupts. He can’t believe how casually we’re discussing the issue. “This is about survival,” he says, again and again. He keeps stressing the word “existential” Artists can no longer afford to live. My mind drifts. I think of PA69’s track Spargelzeit. At first, it’s about Germany’s beloved white asparagus:
“I’m addicted to the white stuff, was in withdrawal for almost a year. Not everyone can afford it, that’s why it tastes so good. And when your piss stinks again, life makes sense. It’s asparagus season.”
When it came out, I happened to be at a dinner featuring asparagus. Everyone at the table was doing fine. It could have been another ironic party track like Tropical Island, which celebrates the Brandenburg waterpark (“Fuck Vabali”) — but then it shifts:
“One last meal with my wife, one last day with my child. I wipe away their tears with what the new job brings. The bus driver doesn’t take a ticket, he takes my passport. Why does my accommodation look like a prison? Eight square metres, ten men, two have corona. Three euros an hour, rent deducted from my pay. We are Eastern Europe’s slaves. Just wait and see what you get. I’ve practised long enough. Tonight I’m coming for you.”
"Politics in consumption, because consumption is political."
This is the simultaneity of lived realities. Politics in consumption, because consumption is political. Politics in trash, in parties, in excess. Trash here is not an insult, but a necessary alternative to high culture. This is what I try to express on prestigious theatre stages: that art and its value cannot be measured in sales figures. Always punch up, never down.
4. Future
This is the only way: if you want to change society, infiltrate the mainstream.
This is the only way: find beauty in horror — or perish.
This is the only way: celebrate life at the edge of the abyss.
This is the only way: recognise the abyss as what it is.
This is the only way: don’t fall.
This is the only way: if you fall, get up.
This is the only way: help.
5. Attitude
"The vision is: a paradise for all."
We need a more radical attitude. The new Chancellor says, “The age of paradise is over.” The reality is: it was only ever paradise for a few. The vision is: a paradise for all. The themes in these tracks may be familiar, but our view of the world has changed. It’s time for the light to return.