Swagger, sleaze and a wink... The boys know that the little girls understand. The shows of these four protagonists are always packed. Where the girls are, the boys will follow. Alcohol will flow, emotions run high - even when people are trying to be cool. A cigarette butt catches someones jacket. A drink is spilled over someones new dress. Whirling to the center of the stage, it's Bernd who cranks out another YEAH! and he continues to pose like theres no tomorrow.
Swaying voluptuously beside him is Franzi playing her Rickenbacker bass with a wild but controllable delight. It is easy to see that there is something special about her, something that makes every fella curious. The beat is also propelled through the smoke-filled club by Faebls snapping drums, furious but solid. Stevo is perfectly completing the scene, blasting out another lead riff with both, power and emotion.
I feel myself grow dizzy, perspiration is already dripping from my forehead. Outside the traffic flows, through yellow and red light, inside I hear these rollicking, frollicking tales about hard-drinking men, jaded whores, love, hate and the hell holes of this world. My brain gets soaked by another drink, the band plays on and on.
The urge to fight, to fuck, to dance, no matter what circumstance... Thats music! Thats life! Thats rocknroll! I thought to myself, and boy, if I've ever been right, if I've ever gotten a glimpse of inspiration, it must have been this very night, when I saw the Surfaholics.