Am Ende der Sonne
Let's get one thing straight: Farin Urlaub's. second album is no longer a laughing matter. It takes a whole four verses, and an unmistakable “fire at will” suggests that it's better to keep your head down for the rest of the album... and it's better that way, because from now on, anything that isn't crouching behind the overturned dining table will be mowed down with the guitar. Even the ska influences sound like ska-ta-ta-ta-ta. And too bad for anyone who thinks they can get through the familiar sound by hanging on to what's raining down on them.
Here comes someone who stands on his own two feet – but this time he's not alone. For the first time, Farin Urlaub has gathered together parts of his “Orchester voll Dynamit” (Orchestra Full of Dynamite), which will accompany him live from now on: Although he plays all the instruments himself again – except for the brass – the ladies from Racing Team lend him their voices this time. No wonder, then, that Am Ende Der Sonne went straight to number 1.
Urlaub has thrown a nasty album into a nasty world. A world over which an indifferent ball of light shines, mercilessly illuminating earthly misery (“Sonne”). A world in which you can't even manage to romanticize the sea (“Unter Wasser”) because your own household is beating you up (“Dusche”) while someone hammers rhythmically on the heater with a wrench.
Am Ende der Sonne
Let's get one thing straight: Farin Urlaub's. second album is no longer a laughing matter. It takes a whole four verses, and an unmistakable “fire at will” suggests that it's better to keep your head down for the rest of the album... and it's better that way, because from now on, anything that isn't crouching behind the overturned dining table will be mowed down with the guitar. Even the ska influences sound like ska-ta-ta-ta-ta. And too bad for anyone who thinks they can get through the familiar sound by hanging on to what's raining down on them.
Here comes someone who stands on his own two feet – but this time he's not alone. For the first time, Farin Urlaub has gathered together parts of his “Orchester voll Dynamit” (Orchestra Full of Dynamite), which will accompany him live from now on: Although he plays all the instruments himself again – except for the brass – the ladies from Racing Team lend him their voices this time. No wonder, then, that Am Ende Der Sonne went straight to number 1.
Urlaub has thrown a nasty album into a nasty world. A world over which an indifferent ball of light shines, mercilessly illuminating earthly misery (“Sonne”). A world in which you can't even manage to romanticize the sea (“Unter Wasser”) because your own household is beating you up (“Dusche”) while someone hammers rhythmically on the heater with a wrench.
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Let's get one thing straight: Farin Urlaub's. second album is no longer a laughing matter. It takes a whole four verses, and an unmistakable “fire at will” suggests that it's better to keep your head down for the rest of the album... and it's better that way, because from now on, anything that isn't crouching behind the overturned dining table will be mowed down with the guitar. Even the ska influences sound like ska-ta-ta-ta-ta. And too bad for anyone who thinks they can get through the familiar sound by hanging on to what's raining down on them.
Here comes someone who stands on his own two feet – but this time he's not alone. For the first time, Farin Urlaub has gathered together parts of his “Orchester voll Dynamit” (Orchestra Full of Dynamite), which will accompany him live from now on: Although he plays all the instruments himself again – except for the brass – the ladies from Racing Team lend him their voices this time. No wonder, then, that Am Ende Der Sonne went straight to number 1.
Urlaub has thrown a nasty album into a nasty world. A world over which an indifferent ball of light shines, mercilessly illuminating earthly misery (“Sonne”). A world in which you can't even manage to romanticize the sea (“Unter Wasser”) because your own household is beating you up (“Dusche”) while someone hammers rhythmically on the heater with a wrench.
