Morr Music is a constant. They have settled into a comfortable niche in the pop world, with a doormat and a designer doorbell. Therein lies their strength and at the same time their dilemma. Morr Music is like a newspaper subscription you took out almost 20 years ago, and you never get around to reading, but at the same time know you shouldn’t throw away unread. There are always some outstanding issues. Like this month: Spirit Fest. The name stands for a bunch of artists centred around Tenniscoats, The Notwist, Jam Money and Joasihno. Established musicians, without airs and graces, who are always willing to take a step back for the sake of art. That, too, is one of the secrets of Morr Music. When it says »supergroup« on the insert, you get a group of detail-obsessed introverts lounging on couches in Birkenstock sandals talking about French existentialism. Or about childhood memories, alternative life models, art history. In other words, simply about how time passes and where your place as a human being is in this world. From which songs of utmost privacy emerge. You say river river flow. And on »Spirit Fest« we find several of these songs that not only mean something, but actually are. There is the aforementioned »River River«, the hit on the album. Now I don’t listen to the radio, but if I turned it on, I would love to hear songs like this. »Shuti Man« would then be a classic from Tom Waits turned into Shōchū. Right at the start, a ‘deja vu’ that recalls the feeling of having mastered the French art of living. The secret highlight is »Nambel«, a childlike chase under clotheslines with sheets hung out to dry, at the end of which you find yourself on the coast of South America unawares. I hereby renew my Morr Music subscription.
Spirit Fest
