"I imagine that one of the first things I heard in the world was the explosion of a Russian ammunitions factory on the outskirts of my hometown. It blew up the night I was born a new GDR-citizen. I´m not sure I heard a noise when the Wall came down, but it still echoes in my body. The echo contains many frequencies. Some of them sound like Gabber playing in my childhood room over the speakers my grandfather once stole from a Leipzig radio station. Some of them sound like me and my friends running through the streets. They sound like my mother laughing and consoling women in the women´s shelter where she worked in 1992. They sound like birds: my father swears after the Reunification the great crested grebes on the town lakes lost all fear of humans. Some of them sound like these recordings."

STROOM, 2025