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The Formative Years - Die Toten Hosen

When it comes to the true nature of what could be defined as a “formative” influence when it comes to punk rock during the onset of my adolescence, there are only two gateway Teutonic bands that can also be found on pretty much any pre-millennials’ list who was socialized with punk rock in Germany during the early 1990s. One of those two is Die Toten Hosen.

It was in my pre-teenage years that I made the acquaintance of a Yugoslavian gentleman almost twice my age, who moved to my neighborhood. He looked intimidating in every way, had tattoos, had his own gang, a car and despite his rough antics in public arenas, proved to be a chill and gentle giant during his downtime, which saw him tuning his car and me hanging out. It was through him that I was first introduced to punk rock and more extreme music. One of the bands he played for me in his garage were Die Toten Hosen and their “Opel Gang” album in honour of his vehicle.

Formed in the context of Düsseldorf’s alternative hangout Ratinger Hof and spawned in 1982 out of the ashes of local fun punk band ZK, my first introduction to the band was through their now classic  “Unter falscher Flagge” album, the Schunkelpunk of which resonated instantaneously, which is not further wondrous because of the straight forward approach both in terms of Schlager-like palatable compositions and nonsensical lyrical matter revolving around drinking and the relatable shenanigans of juvenile delinquents.
The 120 minutes long tape my friend recorded for me contained their first four albums, including their first live album “Bis zum bitteren Ende”, the unbridled furious nature of which spawned the desire to see them in the third dimension.

1988 saw them release what should catapult Die Toten Hosen into mainstream terrain, i.e., their “Ein kleines bisschen Horrorshow” album, the tracks of which were all referencing Anthony Burgess’ “A clockwork orange”, which I bought immediately in book form after learning about it, to then venture on to get Stanley Kubrick’s movie version.

1989 offered the opportunity to see DTH perform in my hometown, which proved to be a pivotal experience as their antics on- and offstage resulted in them specifically and punk bands in general being band from playing at that venue for two decades. It was fantastic and exactly as wild and debaucherous as I had hoped for.

Having entered mainstream territory, the band continued to release albums with their ethos still firmly based on punk rock, yet I had moved on to more extreme forms of music and a scene that considered them as sellouts as they started to appear more and more on TV shows and became part of the established cultural canon.

It was not until many years later after I had moved to another continent that I felt the urge to reconnect with German music and revisited their catalogue. I found quite some gems with their albums released after 1990, some of which have become favourites with DTH fusing their original style with power chords and infusing it with influences from fringe areas of the punk, rock, and metal spectrum.

The focus of the band's music has gradually shifted from funny and nonsensical to the more serious and politically ambitious. The songs from the band's first LP were mostly about having fun, but by the end of the 1980s they were focusing more on social issues. 
As one grows older, it proves to be more difficult to find lasting constants that one has a relation to and that can be revisited with reliability. DTH remains one of them.

Thus Let Us Drink Beer – Prancing Pony and Hawkers Brewing

If you have followed this series attentively, no matter where you roam on this earthround, you would be aware by now that the Adelaide Hills in Australia are a hotbed for fantastic libations. Prancing Pony is a brewery from that region, that I have been meaning to cover for the longest time as I have only heard the best things from beer aficionados about their hoppy emissions.

Starting out with home brews and an initial experimental period during which the name  “Prancing Pony” became a thing, the brewery formally incarnated in 2012 and has since evolved to become one of the heavyweights on the firmament of Australian craft breweries with its focus firmly sent on the avoidance of gimmicks, filtration or usage of preservatives and instead focussing traditional recipes and exclusively using water, yeast, hops and malt.

While this could mean that the brews are lacklustre, it is where Prancing Pony shows its capabilities by incorporating non-traditional hops, malts not usually used and innovative approaches when it comes to how they channel their alchemy in terms of refining their brewing and fermentation techniques with their custom-built brewhouse. 

Given that the common denominator of Prancing Pony’s range is the creation of lingering, immensely big flavours and the brewery being in control of all aspects of the process down to the bottling and kegging being done in-house, it does not come as a surprise that its brews are award decorated within as well as outside the confines of terra australis.

My first exposure to Prancing Pony was via their India Red Ale which is a thoroughbred in the most literal sense with its full-bodied malty backbone on which a melange of herbal and tropical hops dance to the beat of an amplified level of bitterness, i.e. 60 IBU. Clocking in at 7.9% ABV, it packs a veritable punch.

Now, when you think that after such an opening things must tame down a bit with their other releases, you are mistaken. 
While Prancing Pony has a core range that caters that should be palatable to casual beer drinkers as well as the uninitiated, their limited special releases push the envelope in every regard and direction possible.

Case in point, the appropriately named Freakshow Experimental IPA. 

What started out as a special concoction for the GABS beer festival, finally found its way into their portfolio. 

Now, when we mention “experimental” in this context, we are not merely talking about the addition and highlighting of interesting flavours, but experimentation in the sense that it stretches the concept of what an IPA is usually defined as and deliberately traverses boundaries into other styles, e.g. upon first approach I thought it was a barley wine with the toffee and spicy hop aromas that tickled my nostrils. 

A first sip had the top of my mouth think it was catapulted into the depths of a Belgian trappist monastery and halfway through the can, it was reminiscent of a rauchiges Teutonic Dunkelbier. Definitely an ale for the more advanced aficionado and a very rewarding one at that, even though it is definitely not sessionable with its monstrous double digit ABV.

I would have a hard time imagining that anyone with a weak spot for beer not being impressed with Prancing Pony and its brews and I cannot wait for their future emissions.

Hawkers is one those breweries that despite having been met with enthusiasm from the craft beer community pretty much ever since they commenced channelling their alchemy in brewing, it had somehow passed me by for the longest time. 

With the name being an allusion to the humble beginnings in the realm of beer slinging with the founders roaming the streets of Sydney promoting 961 Beer from Beirut, Hawkers has grown to not only  an accolade decorated heavyweight on the firmament of Australian craft brewers but also, ever expanding, to be one of the largest independent ones with its emissions also conquering markets in the old world, i.e. the UK.    

2019 saw Hawkers engage in a rebranding exercise and in the same year they released their IPA with a new look, which I was sold on from the first sip as it proved to be an extremely sessionable tour de force when it comes to hops, yet was not as heavy and overwhelming in the malt department, where a lot of other breweries turn things up to eleven for novelty’s sake.

Based on a melange of a powerful quintet of North American hops, i.e. Nelson Sauvin, Citra, Simco, Mosaic and Centennial, the dank aromas emanating upon opening the can are something to behold, with piney hops and tropical highlights dominating the scene, artfully curbed by a resinous bite.

As a companion to a dram of Ardbeg Corrywreckan there is hardly something better I could wish for.

Hawkers’ Hazy IPA is one of the more recent additions to their range and while it is not necessarily my favourite IPA style, it would not be Hawkers if they did not infuse it with their idiosyncratic twist, which makes it a delight.

Hop-wise, the Hazy IPA sees a marriage of Antipodean ones, i.e. Galaxy hops from terra australis and Motueka from New Zealand, and Citra and Mosaic from the new world.

Well-calibrated, nuances of the hops shine through the dense tropical juice, which in equal measure is comprised of orange, lime, kiwi and mango with just the faintest hint of bitterness making an appearance.

West Coast IPAs are my favourites and in this department, Hawkers strikes twice: Their Alter Ego sees New Zealand hops entering the mix, adding an additional dimension that ticks all the boxes in terms of tropical fruitiness, yet also adds a welcome layer of bitterness. The borderline perfect drink to go with spicy Thai food.

Hawkers’ ( https://hawkers.beer ) core West Coast IPA expression does not take any prisoners as it takes all of the aforementioned qualities to the next level. Clocking in at 7.2% ABV, emphasis is on the tried and tested combination of New Zealand and North American hops, resulting in an avalanche of citrus fruits which is counterpointed by a delicious wall of piney, resinous  and hop heavy notes. The result is a lean and dangerously more-ish beast of a WCIPA, culminating in a dry and bitter crescendo.

I cannot wait to get to try Hawkers’ DIPA as well as their Imperial Stout Whiskey…
 

Classical Antiquity in Heavy Metal Music 

Bloomsbury Academic

Examining the connection between modern phenomena and antique times, Bloomsbury Academic’s book series offers in-depth insights on the origin of what we while our time away with during these Coptic times. 

In this case, a whole instalment is dedicated to marrying the study of heavy metal music with the classics, a focus which for aficionados of the genre, i.e. true metalheads, should be more obvious than for the scholars that would form the target audience for the elaborations.

Now, I have read a fair share of academic treatises on “extreme” music and while there is sometimes an interesting thought to be found, more often than not justifications are weaved in as if excuses are mandatory given the seriousness that is dedicated to a seemingly mundane and unacademic subject matter. 

Refreshingly, this is not the case here and instead time is invested in creating common ground through the introductory chapter to then venture on to succinctly elaborate on the authors’ understanding of both the classics of antiquity and the protagonists of heavy metal.

Things get particularly interesting when geo-historical aspects are zeroed in on as well as gender norms and concepts of identity, which is when one feels like revisiting some albums to discover new aspects by tackling the music and lyrical emissions from a new angle, e.g. the oeuvre of Nile and a range of Scandinavian bands.

Needless to say, both antiquity and heavy metal are wide fields and only aspects can be examined thoroughly. While this could mean that selections are overly subjective, it is testament to the academics at the helm of the operation that the examples they pick allow for their deductions to be universally applicable to other contexts.

It goes without saying that the examinations do pay less attention to what the respective bands are trying to convey at face value level, as going beneath is where things get interesting. 

A well-researched, academic yet engaging and thoughtful volume, which comes with a recommended playlist for students lucky enough to have a professor to teach this subject as part of Roman and Greek History university level courses.

The Formative Years - The Cure

There are many bands and / or musical styles that people consider their “guilty pleasure”, a notion I do not subscribe to as you either like something or you do not. Why feel guilty about it?

The Cure is one of the bands that has been a steady companion ever since a friend made me a tape comprised of the “Pornography” and “Disintegration” albums, which I played until the tape broke as The Cure conveyed something I had never heard in other bands before.  

It was definitely not punk, not quite new wave and “gothic” was not really a thing back then and yet to emerge, at least I was not aware of it as a movement.

The Cure’s sonic emissions were dark, gloomy, elegiac and tormented in the most beautiful and poetic way possible, yet had a lightness and driving pop sensibility to it. 

The fact that I had a massive crush on the lady who compiled the tape only added to the allure, as did the fact that she was three years older and out of my league. Perfect situation to have The Cure serenade your teenage Weltschmerz.

Delving deeper into the back catalogue of Robert Smith and his worthy constituents, I learned that the band had been around since 1978 and that Robert Smith had been involved in Siouxsie and the Banshees, which in my stoic and purist punk days added another layer of credibility – especially when “Friday I’m in love” finally catapulted the band into commercially successful mainstream territory.

I first got to see them incarnate in a live environment in the mid-90ies and it proved to be an otherworldly experience based not only on how the band presented itself with their appearance, i.e. big towering hair and smeared lipstick, but also the audience, its willingness to contribute and the overall atmosphere the evening conjured. 

Over the next three decades I should see the band with various lineups on four continents and even more countries, with not a single one of the shows resulting in a forgettable experience and most spanning over three hours in length, with highlights including their performance as part of Sydney’s Vivid Festival, where they performed their first three albums in their entireties within the confines of the Opera House as well as their fortieth anniversary concert in London in 2018.

Once I dug myself through The Cure’s back catalogue, with each new release constituting an event I was looking forward to, not unlike the two albums the release of which seem to be looming on the horizon.

A timeless band that most people might see inextricably linked to gothic rock, yet in my eyes remains beautifully unique, cinematic and uncategorisable.

The Formative Years – Turbonegro

I have yet to come across a respectable authority with credentials in the realm of rock that would be able to bring something remotely negative forward regarding the musical legacy of Turbonegro.

While the band is still going today, my infatuation with them started in the early 1990s and I still hold their 1989 to 1998 period in high esteem, as it was the evolution of a unique band who created its own lane by channeling the cream of the crop of what punk, hard rock and glam had to offer, and infused it with deliberate oddball themes and a tongue-in cheek approach, the effects of which were only amplified by their often undetected subtlety and considerate humour.

It must have been in 1993 that I first came across Turbonegro through a friend in the US who sent their Hot Cars and Spent Contraceptives album as part of a trade. I instantly liked how they effortlessly channelled punk rock sensitivities with old school metal, backed by a thick layer of sarcasm.

I appreciated their second album Never is Forever for going being a deliberate departure from the low-fi and garage rock direction alternative music was dominated by in the mid-90s.

Refining their aesthetics, looks and trademarks of what Turbonegro should become known for in decades to come, I first saw them the first time live in 1995. I was blown away by how they redefined intensity and confrontative nature of live performances and the audience, no matter how much they liked the sound, were visibly confused as to how to interpret their schtick and choreography. It felt dangerous, irritating and fascinating.

The release of Ass Cobra followed in 1996, an album that along with Apocalypse Dudes added a spicy melange of proto-punk, L.A. glam and 70ies rock’n roll feel to the mix. Ass Cobra remains my favourite Turbenegro album to this day as it relentlessly showcases their humour, intelligence, playfulness with a patina of roughness and ferocity before they perfectioned their formula both in terms of sound and theatrical impact. 

An adrenaline-fueled tour de force and an unequivocal masterpiece.