New German wave from Thuringia, between comfortable security and dim melancholy.
The debut album by the Thuringian band Mamoré sounds like the warm, cozy state of slumber that sets in as a result of three well-deserved beers in a quaint suburban pub with a glittering disco ball: shimmering synths, dull reverb and the sometimes slightly mumbled lyrics will make 80s fans in particular feel at home and feel cared for. MAMORÉ doesn’t hide their sympathy for the Neue Deutsche Welle at any point, especially singer Eric Schulz’s falco-esque, staccato singing laced with rolling R’s makes you feel a deep 80s nostalgia that you didn’t even know you had .
The content is about all those emotional topics that seem important in this state of slumber, which after three more beers you can no longer say with certainty whether you have just discussed them with the illustrious gentleman at the next table, with the barmaid or just with your own reflection . Accordingly, MAMORÉ is also an album about biting loneliness: “What have I done that I no longer have anyone to talk to?” asks the lyrical self in desperation on “SOS”. You can stare into a beer glass, dance or play darts to the retro-modern sound of Mamoré. In short, it actually suits pretty much every situation in life.