Add color, reframe, follow the prism, head to the beach. Not sure we’d ever be talking about Grotto Terrazza, the Munich based art/music/life project of Thomas Schamann, in these terms, but here we are, adjusting to his ever evolving collage of life in the form of his new album ‘Kalte Köstlichkeiten’, an ecstatic uptempo, punchy mitteleuropa celebration of punks in the city.
If his 2019 debut ‘Stumpfer Gegenstand’ (also co-released by Cut Surface and Maple Death) introduced us to Grotto Terrazza’s beautiful intimate translucent dark beat poetry set over art-punk ritmik, foggy nightclubs and musk-induced industrial malaise, Kalte Köstlichkeiten sets the record straight by adding a whole new dimension. Cold Delicacies (the literal translation) delivers so much more, 12 melting popsicles that furiously jump from dancefloor post-punk, brazen EBM, funk sleaze and smoked out cold-wave. What really ties Thomas’ musical world together is the scattered use of field recordings, musique concrete and quite literally… life, all sprinkled across his oeuvre, his personal secret weapon, turning an already detailed album into a scrap journal with laser focus. Songs like Inspektor Ginko, Die Zitronenmelodie and Tokamak continue in his tradition of Neubautenesque art-wave, an imaginary OST for any Kaurismaki setting, rhythmical murder ballads, Neue Deutsche Welle; Grotto Terrazza’s nightlife is soundtracked by the incredible trio of Senza Piombo 95, Der Zaubergeselle and Krank In Der City, three leathered-up EBM crankers that delve into proto-rave territory and cut their teeth on motorik bass and syncopated fluo. I can’t not help picturing video games played at dawn, sidewalks spitting out the heatwave and streetlights buzzing away when listening to Long Ayran Ice-Tea, Tropische Krankheiten and Kurze Arme, another triptych that unites romantic joyfulness, chipmunk hyper-pop, pulsating strobes and drum machine punk swirling across the universe.
Kalte Köstlichkeiten, a refreshing cold delicacy on a hot summer’s night. Death disco, new beat and conscious dada all collapsed, like an orange umbrella sitting on a solitary beach. Swim with Grotto Terrazza.
