Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Richard Matthews of Communion Music at 2KHz, Crouch End, London
We hear about temperatures soaring out of control here, with these songs by Me And My Drummer, but they seem to be kept in-check. They are more than mere threats, but the people experiencing the fluctuations in heat are quick to quell them. They've come to understand that there's nothing to stop them from coming and grabbing them, putting them on their backs, steaming up their collars and down their backs and fogging up their windows.
These aren't trifles, but there's nothing that can be done to thwart them completely. These fevers are only meant to be managed, but they remain inevitable. It's ideal to try and keep them short-lived, but it's not always possible to quarantine them quickly enough. The internal body temp ticks up a few degrees and the effect is immediate. A person starts feeling beside themselves - not at all right or like themselves.
Charlotte Brandi and Matze Prollochs, who make up this duo from Berlin, Germany, make music that takes us into these precarious positions where the fever needs to break and madness needs to dampen before anything can resort back to normal, when it feels sweet again. Even still, it never feels like anyone is too worried in these tales of choppy love, of lives in despair and of strange optimism. They sound as if they're going to calmly see where it's all going to lead them.
Brandi sings, "I want to believe in magic/In the moment of my life/An encounter so special/That it makes me someone's wife/And after all that I've been through/It seems hard to believe/That another one's soul could set my frantic heart at ease/But there was this one night/That I met you/When the dawn did not come/And your words filled the room." It's a sentiment that hopes for relief. More than that, it hopes for unlikely relief. It's listening for that mystic whisper and believing that these hot bodies will find a way to cooler skin.
Me And My Drummer Official Site