We almost missed this band completely. Several good friends urgently advised to see them live but we just kept forgeting. And then one sunday night while cleaning the inbox: Oh yes, when was that again? Last week. Normally we would have forgotten again, but there was this link to an almost empty page, only one video clip, a song both staggering and touching. What a song. Later another opportunity arises, in Hamburg, the hometown of Hundreds, in a small and jam-packed bar. The band plays on a tiny riser with hardly anything but a piano and a voice. What a voice. The audience is paralysed, thrilled by what is going on up there, the strange energy between the two siblings, their secret interaction, their mysterious appearance, thrilled by the tension, the exalted serenity, the inconceivability. Hundreds disappear as abrupt as they had shown up. What has just happened?
And now an album like this as a possible answer. The sketch of a position, of a fleet shape that can lean towards cold Raster Noton - like aesthetics as well as towards intimate songwriting, that holds the darkness of Low somewhere deep down inside which you will remember as gleaming and euphoric. Offish electronic sounds, fragile remains of breathing and far away hunches that sound like underwater music establish a gentle connection to the immediacy of the embracing and sensual voice. A strict, disciplined and artful texture is drawn only to be immediately filled by love, tears, kisses and laughter, ardour, inebriation, sobering, disenchantment, desperation, occupied by life itself. The music of Hundreds grows with every encounter, with every collision and contradiction. It beathes in all the free spaces that suddenly appear. It is as unseizable as the persons behind it. Still it offers to hug everyone.
So let's thank ou friends for insistently helping us again to find our piece of happiness.
And now an album like this as a possible answer. The sketch of a position, of a fleet shape that can lean towards cold Raster Noton - like aesthetics as well as towards intimate songwriting, that holds the darkness of Low somewhere deep down inside which you will remember as gleaming and euphoric. Offish electronic sounds, fragile remains of breathing and far away hunches that sound like underwater music establish a gentle connection to the immediacy of the embracing and sensual voice. A strict, disciplined and artful texture is drawn only to be immediately filled by love, tears, kisses and laughter, ardour, inebriation, sobering, disenchantment, desperation, occupied by life itself. The music of Hundreds grows with every encounter, with every collision and contradiction. It beathes in all the free spaces that suddenly appear. It is as unseizable as the persons behind it. Still it offers to hug everyone.
So let's thank ou friends for insistently helping us again to find our piece of happiness.
Hundreds: Hundreds
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