Puppy Love - Weave At West Germany

Shortly after I had moved to Berlin, one of my musical mentors draged me to the Volksbühne for the first time in history, the band we saw was little beknown to me at the time. As you might have figured yourself or read in one of my biographies, it was not the last time I went to the Volksbühne, much less the last time I found myself bewitched by Animal Collective. By now they are canonized for good, one of the undisputable members of the pantheon, it even seems hard to believe that someone didn't know them once. No matter how disgustingly famous they became, no one ever seemed to consider any passion towards them shameful in any sense, an exceptional status only to be shared by demigods such as Nick Cave, a pair of sharp black leather shoes or German defense-dwarf Philipp Lahm. Now, I don't want to recommend you something you already know, even though I once told a major German literary critic that I just had discovered a promising young talent by the name of Goethe, a little anecdote that still amuses me. However, I wanted to put before you the night that finds you with no expectations, yet overwhelms you with what you've been missing, perhaps without even knowing. It usually never happens to me with concerts, probably because I barely attend them without high expectations.

On wednesday night I found myself at ever beloved West Germany, worn down and high-strung, in a difficult mood to say the least. Weave immediately struck me as beautiful, I in fact I liked their tiny little concert so much that I'm still too chicken-hearted to listen to their tunes again online. I will leave my childish crush with you, join or attack my Weave movement, but be aware that there are things in life much greater than your daydreams. Many thoughts there are that I developed during the concert, thoughts that have been haunting my little existence ever since then, but today I will spare you my violent and pathetic spear. Love is a weapon or a cross, will you handle it with care...