THE HAPPY END
Music is an agonistic muscle. Let it pass through the band’s surgery and see what dr. frankenstein is up to.
The Happy End is an open but collective concept that considers music as a floating demonstration of tonal experience in progress. Does that sounds esoteric? It sounds sick. Help is here. Help is the band. The Band’s a fracture.
The medical process is characterized not so much by the alchemical mixture of sound and song but by the permanent surgical ward of both these sides. Amputations to be performed sometimes.
All medics are perfectly aware that rehearsing and recording can be the perfect amusement - if only the output is never to be predicted. May there be a monster.
What is more, everybody in the room is fine with the fact, that there’s no must to create a specific output at all. May there be noise and despair. Consequently live shows are the band, and the recently recorded album can only be seen as a snapshot of its clinical work in progress.
Certainly there are some fixed points, yet more or less in a geographical way:
All members grew up and down in the same southern german small town. Seperately all of them have been moving to berlin over the past ten years and met again to combine musical experience that had the same beginnings but has extended in vastly different directions later: ranging from techno to rock.
The conflicting influences are more or less overwhelming the bavarian gene pool the collective still has in common. But music’s a healer. So the curative aspect can’t be overestimated when The Happy End come together to play the simple popsong, hate it and be fascinated by its theoretical implications at the same time.
Simply speaking, that‘s the way how these people gain the pasty gasoline for the ratteling and stinking motorcycle they‘re riding in groups of six.
Board equipment consists of real and electric drums, 37 electronic sound devices and effects pedals, electro-magnetic tools like harp, guitars and bass - plus the notorious omnichord, a mixture of wooden and spacecrafty gear, which in some places the fire brigades keep an eye on.
