Falk Richter

Three friends meet during a cold night for an out-of-control reunion, a birthday party in their shared apartment, ten years after the end of their youthful freedom. What has remained of their old plans and utopias? And their great declaration of love? One wants to marry, another has decided not to work anymore and not to participate in this whole "welfare shit". It is better to spin records in remote clubs where everyone who does not want to participate can still resist the sellout of ideals. But why? We are getting older and the weather is becoming colder: quick, collect wood for the next few years, or we will freeze to death.
The night seems to be endless and the thermometer drops, the heater is broken, and the door is no longer open. And time stops for a moment, a complete stand still, and there is only the music, one song playing again and again. It’s "New Grass" by Mark Hollis, who shut himself in a clinic years after his career as a pop star, in order to get rid of all commercialization and to work on his new perfect sound. The three are celebrating a strangely life-hungry swan song to efficiency, commerce, marriage, child bearing, Condoleeza Rice, Justin Timberlake, and everything else that makes life no longer worth living.