Stefan Kurzmann

There used to be a band (Elektrik Farm), for which I wrote songs and then they were amplified by drums, bass and electric guitar and shot by the lack, so that in the end little monsters emerged, whose appearance and superpowers I could never imagine in advance.

The band is history, but the little monsters still want to go out into the world. What does a song need? Who still needs songs? The world is full.

My head too. A guitar and a strange voice are perhaps the most reliable accomplices to give these wayward creatures some legs and weird hairstyles.