Brutalismus 3000 Are Turning Techno On Its Head
Brutal 3000 - Continental Europe's hottest new electronic band, the Bavarian duo have been rocking Berlin with their wildest, ugliest and most beautiful rave music since the 90s, calling the modern techno scene boring and "unusual". Songs about horror movies and 9/11, meeting the dark lord of fashion Rick Owens, performing in front of thousands, big Tiki Talks and (of course) drinking blood. Victoria Vasiliki Daldas and Theo Zetner bring a long-needed, irreverent spirit to the tech scene.
Or if they are not very beautiful. Daldas and Zeitner met in 2018 at 2 a.m. in a bar in Nikkooln, southeast Berlin. Zeitner was at a party when she received a Tinder message from a new match asking if she wanted to meet up. They exchange pleasantries, but she agrees to go on a first date.
- Do you want to meet? I will ask,” says Daldash. “Then he walks in and I see this handsome man asking for vodka and lemonade. We spoke English first...”
"...I thought it was Russian..." says Zeitner.
"...Then I heard him say 'vodka-soda' and I immediately knew he was German," says Daldas.
"I was a little nervous," says Zeitner. But it still came out soft.
"It's a secret!" Laughing wildly
In one of two interviews with the Berlin music magazine Playfull , Daldas and Zeitner wore fluorescent yellow jumpsuits (presumably Balenciaga ) and expressed their displeasure with the current techno scene, particularly in Berlin. "They take things very seriously and say things like, 'It's a techno revolution,'" Zeitner said. "Me, no...not like that. Going to Berger isn't a revolution...the techno scene is pretty uneventful.
When they welcome me to their new house in Newcoln the day after they move in, they're absolutely adorable, showing off their musical chemistry, completing each other's sentences and laughing out loud while drinking. Their cosmopolitan handlers are carefully avoided. The place is still empty, with less than a few chairs and a coffee table, but it's on the top floor of a modern-looking building and offers plenty of sunlight and a view of the leafy streets of the Berlin suburb.
When you disapprove of techno With their revolutionary character they herald a radical change in electronic music. After a few years of lean and heavy techno, created mostly by white guys in edgy black t-shirts, Brutalism 3000's sound was bold and loud, straddling Euro-trance, 2000s electro-clash and all-American EDM. They dress in bright colors and Daldas sings for the queer and feminist communities of Berlin's club scene ("They're your children," says Zeitner).
They also represent a contradiction. They may look cool, but they're mostly mainstream, expressing their love for pop stars like The Weeknd and EDM DJs like David Guetta. Their music is irreverent and referential: look through their catalog and you'll find references to Kraftwerk, Iggy Pop, Soundcloud rappers, David Cronenberg films and vampire superheroes. They say they weren't influenced by the techno scene, but stuck to low drums in their teens.
Despite its raw power, the music is often beautiful, delicate in its narcotic rhythms and sharp in its depiction of the world. Let me consider a paradox here: are the 3000 savages as strict and uncompromising as they seem, dark symbols of the Berlin underground who shun mainstream society and worship Satan in their spare time? Or is he still human?
"It's almost like we're worshiping Satan," says Zeitner.
On that first day, Zeitner and Daldas discovered their love for horror movies and hard dance music by artists such as DAF (Deutsch Americanische Hoffnung), an electro-punk duo from Düsseldorf in the 70s and 80s. - Reading Gruvetronica about Hitler and Mussolini. Zeitner started making music in a garage band after seeing his friends doing minimal techno. He decided to study just to prove his stupidity. Daldash had never sung before, except maybe in a school play, and then he forgot the lines.
They started recording together less than a year after their marriage. Zeitner laid down the hellish beats and Daldas sang into a distorted microphone in a mixture of German, English and Slovak. Whether you speak one of these languages or not, deciphering their text is a daunting task. The transitions are different, giving a distorted and ambiguous view of the city they live in and the world they were born into. Enigmatic, subtly political and intriguing in almost any genre, Daldas Techno takes hip-hop with Death Grips' MC Ride: you might not get the whole story. It screams, but you can't stop listening.
In August 2020, Brutalism 3000 released their first single, "Horime" ("We're burning in Slovakia"), in a world hit by the pandemic. When the clubs reopened, they had a huge online following, with several singles and two EPs, as well as the attention of many Tik Tok kids. His first real show in Paris in 2021 attracted 2,000 spectators. The titles of his first works are No Sex With the Police, The Devil Was a Baby Boomer and Die Umwelt macht Bum. The band has appeared on more than one album cover with a bloody lip.
In February they recorded the soundtrack for Rick Owens' rave-sarcophagus moncler and in April they released the album Ultrakunst , which reached number 11 in the German pop charts. Between screeching horns, trance riffs, rock melodies and occasional jungle beats, Dalda sings the lines " Drink your blood and we'll sit on your head". His arrival "and complete chaos prevailed. Then Theo helped me in order. Zeitner writes poems for his partner, including the wonderful ending of Ultrakunst "VOLENCE VOLENCE". "This city loves everyone / everyone laughs," calls Daldas in German. There are 20 people in the corner / Violence, violence".
Like his other music, he describes Berlin as a free and loving place surrounded by an atmosphere of paranoia. In 2022's "Love Love", Daldas expresses sweet romance in the dark atmosphere of a Berlin nightclub: "Competitive bowser, leave me in the club / I wanna kiss my fake laser baby ". But at SAFE SPACE, he's aiming for a club that says it's safe for its guests when it's not frequented.
"Basically everyone we know has done drugs or something," Zeitner explains.
"They healed me twice," Daldash said. "Nothing bad happened, but... it's a place where you say well and then you look at the (DJ) line-up and...".
"... There's a lot of suspected rape," says Zeitner, "or it could be a gay party where mostly straight people dress up as gay men and rapist women." We saw that and just put the song on. This is where we see that many people have problems. "There's a lot of mental illness here because it's a very stressful and demanding city, but we love it."
"When I came to Berlin, I felt at home for the first time," says Daldas. Raised in rural Bavaria in southern Germany with a Greek father and a Slovak-German mother, he "never fit in" in a conservative environment. He always had a good relationship with his parents, but he left home at the age of 18, and after a while they told him "we have never seen him so happy".
Zeitner grew up in the small Bavarian town of Coburg and described his upbringing as "upper middle class". When she was diagnosed with ADHD at age 12, she says she was "struggling with all kinds of issues." "I think I was very troubled as a child. But I had a very happy and secure childhood. Very privileged."
Zeitner and Daldas often speak against the shy and reserved nature of early electronic musicians.
"We both knew we were going to be famous growing up," says Daldash.
"Yeah, it's the only thing I want," Zeitner added. "It's very exciting. You can place it on the idol. They are not crowded on the street yet, but when they go to a new place they are recognized by a neighbor and this causes confusion. They're talking to me after over a month off after a 30-day European tour. Even though he flies all week, Zeitner still has a fear of flying. Every time he gets on the plane, he wears the same shirt and plays the same song before takeoff: "Heat Waves" by Glass Animals, to the tune of the wheels coming off the plane. - Track
Since he turned 27, Zetner has thought about the scene in Birdman where Michael Keaton's character sits behind George Clooney on a plane flying through a storm and can't shake the fact that if the plane crashes, it will crash. Clooney's face should be in the papers the next day, not hers. "It's a shame that he died at the age of 27," says Zeitner. Because who am I? I am in this club, I will die at the age of 28 and then I will be in a new club".
Daldas doesn't specify his age, but whatever it is, fans of Brutalism 3000 are Generation Z. Their last tour was open to anyone over 16, and they estimate the average age for their shows to be 18 or 19. . "Damn young man," said Zeitner. "People hate what young people love, but I love it. The young generation is always the best generation."
Zeitner says millennials remember their pre-internet childhoods like Race and Tony Hawk as pro skaters . But it's easy to see why young people love it. His favorite lyrical subjects are the area depicted in David Attenborough and Daldas' 2022 song "3ISBÄR", the cult " Eisbär" of the 1999-1981 Swiss new wave band Grauzone. cry))
"To say it's activism is too loud," Daldas said. But, of course, our generation and the younger generation are also fighting for it, and of course it affects us too. Zeitner notes that flying around the world for different concerts every week isn't sustainable, but they hope their vibe somehow resonates with their audience.
However, you will see their age in the ultra art song "CRY BÉBÉ". Daldas between the end of the world and Woodstock 99 (in German): "Two buildings, two planes / It will never be the same." "I remember the moment I sat in front of the television," he recalled on September 11. "I think what is happening now is small. We record this and that, then read the news and what is happening. This is a contradiction. Then read on and think about what you can do to make a difference.
"It's definitely scary," Zeitner added. "But he is very independent. It's not very fun, but it's not unusual to be on the dance floor. It's always something we like to have more than an element of dance.'
All of that - the rejection of the inferiority of the ubiquitous electronic music, the appeals to the clubbers in trouble, the "more" than the dance show - is the techno revolution, isn't it? "I wouldn't go far," says Zeitner. But it's really outdated. I find it strange that we are at such a unique place in our movement. We did it club style in every club but with a different approach. Ironically, we are the first to think of it.
You'll notice that according to Spotify, their second largest fan base is currently in the US. "I think it can be more revolutionary there," said Daldas. "It will be something new for them to bring this vocal, loud and heavy riff culture." As the two academics point out, although techno originated in Detroit, most Americans are unaware of the thriving culture of 1990s Berlin and London. They don't have any US shows planned yet, but they're giggling at the prospect of performing as Jackass with confetti balls, pyrotechnics and Daldas rockets at the ADM festival in Las Vegas.
In 1977, David Bowie asked Iggy Pop to write a song about "Walking Like Ghosts in the Night". Together they recorded "Nightclub" in a studio in Berlin. Grace Jones and the Human League performed the song. On Brutalism's 3000s version, Daldas confidently repeats, "We're discotheques, we're discotheques / we're what's happening," over a funky growl and bass drum.
And at least now they are in Europe. It remains to be seen whether the world can withstand the brutality of the many sensational attacks of 3,000. Will they be scared of their demonic image or will they be captivated by the humanity behind the music? And they don't drink blood. he
"No," said Daldas. “Well, maybe the baby's blood. You know, being young.
