Driver, the Berlin twin phenomenon from different mothers…
WE ARE THE WORLD
The gentlemen that are Driver & Driver willingly celebrate the survival of Rock in Berlin. Any form of the ever evolving history of Rock’n’Roll – from working class to art school camp, from Top 10 to Hartz 4 is transformed into a wild Mash Up: Garagerock, Krautrock, Rock-A-Billy. No Wave, Punkrock, Oi! Funpunk, Industrial, Hip-Hop, Techno, Thunderdome, Noise, and of course, Electro (that all and nothing word of the now-generation.)
Two naturally powerful men-machines in a perpetual Kulturkampf. Just as in Spy Vs. Spy, Tom & Jerry or Itchy And Scratchy, the efforts of the ever-an- noying counterpart, the ongoing struggle to exhaust the opponent gets transformed into a highly entertaining, somewhat brutal and at the same time enlightening comic-Darwinism.
„Ich hab Dir Kuchen mitgebracht“ (I brought you cake) versus „Nein, Ich hab DIR Kuchen mitgebracht!“ (No, I brought YOU cake). Who has more pull? Who is holding the steering wheel? Who is leading the way and who is looking at the streets? But more importantly, who let’s the music play?
Their Kraut-competition-Rock is as distressing, overloaded, and intelligent as Suicide or DAF (to name two other references out of the category of “Riot- bound duos in Rock business”). In other words: Within the beat architecture (Driver) and sound DNA (&Driver) many long prove survival strategies are in- herited. Their re-appropriation will be highly useful in the years to come. The sound of tomorrow played for today by Driver & Driver!
And while the commercialized music-laboratories of this world try to adopt production skillz and styles of these underground hipsters, Driver & Driver have simply moved on. Just as the Road Runner never surrenders to Wile E. Coyote, Driver & Driver always know the shortcuts. Or the de-tour.
Or where- ver their goal is found. Life is full of curves and junctions and Driver & Driver are crisscrossing the roundabout, driving everybody nuts.
ONLY IN IT FOR THE LINAGE
This is a promotional press text. My aim is to sell an unruly, Janus-faced beast that has become a product. Driver & Driver are probably driving around L.A. at this moment. Or France. Or Slovenia. Wherever someone supplies accom- modation and fuel they are going to settle. Never further than until dawn.
THE HISTORY OF NOISE
William S. Burroughs once had a great idea: People shall gather in small groups, loudspeakers attached to their bellies, streaking noise, the sound of riot, moving through the night streets. The utopia was clear: any regime would immediately be threatened by these small, chaotic “terror units”. As far utopia goes, who wants to threaten a state anyway and what for?
Still, no small number of bands likes to think of themselves – at least in the beginning – as such a “terror unit”. The powers of affirmation and society are (mostly) strong enough to assimilate any potential threat, and even trans- form any air of opposition into consumable tasty bites.
In this sense, the history of Blues, of Rock’n’Roll, of Hardrock, Punk, Industrial, Hardcore, HipHop, and Techno has been a narration of these transformed noises and sounds of opposition and rioting. So comrades, come rally! The sound of protest turns into the sound of marketing – the sound of success. A hostile acquisition, if you will.
IF IT DOES NOT ROCK… SCREW IT!
It is remarkable, how – in terms of the societal acceptance of noise – the attribute “Rock” (latest since the web 2.0 claim “If it doesn’t rock… screw it”) turned into the creed of the post-Cobain-generation: The “art print” edition of Edvard Munch’s “Skrik (The Scream)” from your parent’s local savings bank branch calendar is mounted to the living room wall while the radio on the bed-side table airs Muse’s newest hit single. When night falls, the whole fa- mily is watching the latest news from war somewhere, and there always is war somewhere.
The dull edged-civic, eternally adolescent inversion of the argument there- fore goes: The world is surely screwed somehow, but at least it rocks.
Given that only two generations before, youngsters got kicked out of their parents’ places for listening to loud Rock music, one might even deduct the evolution of noise and the resulting dullness by the mere societal accep- tance of Rock.
When German foreign secretary Von Guttenberg launches photos of him wheeling AC/DC records, when soccer fans ever since have been rumbling
“We will rock you” (uff-uff-tsachkk) or “Seven nation army” (la lalalalala la) in the stadiums, no threat originates from music at all.
In fact, an uncanny threat emanates from everything and everyone any time under any given circumstance. A highly flammable hostility that fills any in- ter-personal and societal niches and cracks: The shells of the Private. The of- fice space of society.
Having this said, Rock music, if you will, is like a strong immune system: The forces of self-preservation strike down any threat! “Anyone who doesn’t pay the rent!” the witty M.D: says when diagnosing flu. It’s called survival. (<<<doesn‘t make any sense at all! Haha)
Being a Driver means being on the guard. Always on the run. Always in top gear.
Yours, sincerely Maurice „Crashtextdummy“ Summen
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Mercedes @ driver-driver.de
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