Gentle synths meet hard-hitting drums, paired with a boyish, melancholic voice.

The boys from back then have grown up—they still smoke in the rain, still revel in their world-weariness—but something has changed. A cold northern wind blows madness into the city they call home, and the soft synths are shaken up by drums that crash in just at the right moment, overthrowing the rhythm. Then there’s that voice—boyish and melancholic, yet now with a sense of maturity that tenderly romanticizes the melancholy and celebrates the pain with dry wit.

Martin Schenk’s lyrics paint vivid images in your mind and sunlight on your face. Why not? “Does it always have to be thunder and lightning?” the frontman chants, while Niklas Rehle’s exuberant basslines leap and twirl. Simon Kerler laughs behind the drums and doubles down with another punchy beat.

Das Kitsch plays its cards with its trademark playfulness—but never just at surface level. The band reveals the grand in the small, the whole in the broken. And before you know it, your feet are already dancing.