Zurich, 90s: The television is on the window sill, ready to fall. Jan Müller reveals why Tocotronic didn’t resort to rock star destruction after all.
“Nothing in this world is worse / Than an empty hotel room at night / When loneliness awakens”. These are the first lines from the song “Rette mich” by Nena. I thought these verses were great for a long time. And as is the case with great lines: you anticipate them for yourself and perhaps even believe that these lines reflect your own feelings.
Now I recently looked into myself and realized that I see things completely differently than Nena. And in this case it has nothing to do with the fact that Gabriele Susanne Kerner, singer of the band Nena, has no longer been acceptable to me for political reasons since 2021 at the latest. The song “Save Me” was not written by Gabriele Susanne Kerner, but by Carlo Karges, the guitarist of the band Nena, who died much too early. He is beyond any doubt.
But I still believe that these lines are not valid for me. I can imagine many things in this world, when loneliness awakens in the night, that are worse than an empty hotel room. For example, a prison cell, a damp moor full of mosquitoes or even a hotel room that is not empty but filled with decorative kitsch. Unfortunately, people have often been confronted with this type of hotel room – especially in so-called “boutique hotels” – since the turn of the millennium. You shouldn’t be surprised about this; The French word “boutique” literally means “general store”.
Leaving such quibbles aside, we realize that the Nena lines are just a variation of two lines from the AC/DC song “It’s A Long Way To The Top (If You Wanna Rock’n’Roll)”: “Hotel, motel / Make you wanna cry”. But still: I haven’t had this feeling yet. I love hotels and hotel rooms far too much. Nowhere do I sleep as well as in a well-tempered hotel bed. In every hotel bathroom you always see the same note: “Do you know how many tons of hotel towels are washed every day around the world? How much water, detergent and energy are used?” I don’t know how many towels are washed worldwide. But I know that hotels are more concerned with their costs than with protecting the environment. But I also know how hard hotels have to calculate their prices. So these hypocritical display cards don’t make me angry.
Speaking of anger: I never understood how hotel rooms were always an outlet for rock bands’ frustration and aggression. Vandalizing and destroying hotel rooms is nothing more than bad kitsch. What satisfaction should come from this? The perpetrator is usually easy to identify and then has to compensate for the damage himself. In addition, some not particularly well-paid employees will probably have to put everything back in order. These days I try to leave the room at least as tidy as when I entered it. I clean the bathroom and, if necessary, update the channel assignment on the television. I’ve even screwed a loose clothes rail back on. I borrowed the screwdriver for this from our sound engineer. He was still awake.
In the past, however, I was less meticulous. We tended to redecorate hotel rooms with my band Tocotronic. Abstract paintings were turned upside down, plants were carried down the halls and room numbers on the doors were swapped. And I have to admit: we were even close to throwing a television out the window once. This happened in Zurich in the 90s. The doorman had denied a good friend of ours access to our rooms. The TV was already on the window ledge, ready to hit the asphalt with a loud bang from the fourth floor.
However, the consensus principle applies in our band. One band member was against this action that night, two band members were for it. After an hour and a half of discussion, we concluded that such an action was fundamentally wrong, even though we had been treated anything but hospitably in this house. We left the device on the window ledge.
The most that can happen to me in a hotel these days is that I get very annoyed. For example, via poorly placed sockets, a low-voltage hairdryer or a lack of a second pillow (nobody can sleep with just one pillow). When I’m lying awake because of the lack of a pillow, I turn on my phone and quietly stream the origin of all the hotel songs: “Heartbreak Hotel” by Elvis Presley: “Well, now if your baby leaves you and you need a place to dwell / Just take a walk down Lonely Street to Heartbreak Hotel / You’ll be so lonely baby, you’ll be so lonely / You’ll be so lonely, you could die”. Maybe Carlo Karges had a point after all!
This column first appeared in Musikexpress issue 2/2026.
