Caught in a moment of pure glamour, we were awaiting the only working lift to reception, and as the doors slid open, who should we spy amidst the packed-in-like-sardines passengers? None other than our old friends Stereo Total (over from Berlin for one night only)...
[I wondered aloud if they always stayed at the Holiday Innn, but apparently they rather regret writing that song: "Next time we will write about a more upmarket hotel!"]
We checked out and found a café bar to pass the time until their flight, and they very kindly furnished me with a vinyl copy of their new LP Cactus versus Brezel. And then they were off, refreshed by breakfast, Guinness and rosé wine.
There was no sign of the fisticuffs promised by that title, but just supposing...
"LAYDEEZ AND GENTLE MEN, in the coin Français, on vocals, kazoo and banging the drums: FRRRRANÇOISE CACTUSSS!!!"
"It doesn't pay to try, all the smart girls no why..."
Trust Françoise, she's a smart cookie and she knows.
She knows it makes good sense to take a rough pop diamond by smacked-up heartbreaker Johnny Thunders and to turn it into a dirty, shuddering, synthetic hymn to love, loss and empty arms.
*this is the sound of a filthy, dirty arpeggiator*so there*
"And in the Deutsche ecke, on guitars, synths, trautonium und neu!-ses:
"We can hear you coming through loud and clear on the answerphone."
"No, you're breaking up. You're breaking up into a stuttering, electro cut-up xerox of an old Serge Gainsbourg Freggae number..."
"Is that you Françoise? Brezel? Just what is this bad news filtering in on the solar winds? Tell us, what news from way up there in the celestial heavens?"
"No, you're breaking up again..."