Recap is to ever anticipate that, somehow the wrong word, almost a lie. Because a real Festival review includes images that are blurry hour to hour and at the end in Ecstasy show up happy rakelnde crowds usually all sorts of Meenakshi and en masse. We have us gerakelt and sweating, lost watches and fight any force from the body, but we don’t have photos of them. Perhaps we have forgotten to press the shutter button, maybe we were simply no desire to destroy moments by flashbulbs.
That’s why we write this time also a fairly Spartan article. Anything we write this article just because we don’t know where with our euphoria. And because we Berlin Festival music want to share with you.
We arrived too late, both. We arrived only on Saturday, I works drive because my home visit and correspondingly sluggish, let us lazy on the Tempelhofer field the white screen skin are sizzling ate greasy pizza by Mario, drinking beer from plastic cups and smoked chain with Monsieur Jens, who wants to stay, until now unrecognized and my dear friends Ben and its optical twin RAM Thunderstruck. Sounds boring, but it wasn’t. Because no MDMA of the world can hold a candle Beirut, because Boyse Noize brought the amount the kneeling down, because the beginner catapult us into pre pubertal layers of feeling. Because all the tones and the bass had made us drunk and we wanted to scream in sheer endorphins. We have also made.
Midnight, approximately. All were there, maybe that whole Jägermeister Wirtshaus troop, and somewhere in the Middle we. In the arena, just in time for public enemy, a few minutes far away from the dubstep thunderstorm. I thought it could not get better, but then came Skrillex. Brain away, breath, clothes away.
Breaking into the ground and at the other end of the world come out, we’ve already had that and we have it everytime’s new. Just feel and energy combine to be ready, if the wave of you breaks. Fall together, to actually go and stand up when it’s over. Drenched we stood in the crowd, soaked in private and foreign sweat, hair stuck in the neck. And it didn’t matter.
Mr. Oizos beats the last what is burned in my brain are. Further, I will not think, because thoughts are out of place, if thousand nodes from emotions cause your veins almost to rupture. That’s what makes music with me. That’s why you up to your neck in crap can stick and still pink see nonstop.
Thanks to the two phenomenal with pleasure boys Matze and Pierre, without which we don’t because had and love people who have poured tons of hormones of happiness in the world, with us thanks to Marcel for the hands while the Thunder grabbed us in bulk. We are sad despite a bit, because we have land Oh, you missed Pantha Prince, mount Kimble and many, many more. Good: A next time will come.