"Melancholia Beach"

Peter Zirbs: Dancing towards the end of the world

Professional pessmist with the hope of a good life: On "Melancholia Beach", Viennese sound artist Peter Zirbs combines the threat of the end of the world with joyful escapism.

(Bild: Tim Cavadini, Krone KREATIV)

On his debut album, Viennese electronic musician Peter Zirbs questioned whether we even exist as a species - "Melancholia Beach" is now, a full six years later, an escapist swan song to a world that we are constantly hollowing out and destroying. Zirbs explains in the "Krone" talk why we shouldn't give up hope and what Falco has to do with all this.

"Krone": Peter, your last studio album "What If We Don't Exist?" was six years ago, now "Melancholia Beach" is being released. What has happened to you in the meantime?
Peter Zirbs: Due to a new relationship, I spend most of my time in Belgrade. I immediately had an idea of what I wanted to do next and told my friends about it. It was going to be an apocalyptic album, because right-wing populism and global warming were on the rise. And that was before corona - the world was almost intact compared to today. (laughs) In retrospect, the end of the world has already passed the point where it's no longer funny to make an album like this. I then made a 180-degree turn and am now feeding my escapism with a soundtrack for the last days of humanity. But the soundtrack shouldn't be too depressive and hammer you over the head. It's like partying on the beach one last time before it's all over.

Unfortunately, reality answers your questions more often than is good for us.
I don't want to get political at all, because that has nothing to do with my music, but we really are living in a bad time. Personally, I'll be 53 this year and I'm trying to stem the rapid decline a little with songs.

But a certain form of excess is part of your music anyway.
As I get older, I have to suffer a lot more for excess than I used to. I'm the last person to resist excess, but it doesn't get any easier. Excess is nice when you have a basic trust in life and can let yourself fall into it. That is taken away a little as you get older.

Is your excess now only left in music?
Totally. It's actually the case that I don't need the trappings like I did in the 90s. When a good acid bassline and a kick drum kick in at 3 a.m., I jump out of bed and dance at the table. "Melancholia Beach" of course quotes the electronics of the 80s and 90s, but I'm not interested in copying them. I try to make the sound timeless for myself and have probably found a kind of parallel timeline to make it work for me. A song like "All My Friends" is about getting older and the topic of Generation X will play a bigger role on the upcoming album. Corona has made me realize more clearly that I'm not old yet, but I'm not young either.

I felt for the first time that I was part of a generation, with 80s music, raves and the introduction of the internet. Back then, you did an apprenticeship as a printer and stayed until you retired - that's unimaginable today, but that's how you were taught. When you have time, you think a lot about things like that. I grew up with my single mother in a very feminist household and that drastically differentiated Generation X from the Boomer generation. Everything became more open, people played with gender roles and ventured into unknown spheres.

"Melancholia Beach" plays heavily on your nostalgia. Escaping into nostalgia is important for many people because of reality. Very young people even take refuge in a false nostalgia that they were never able to experience themselves.
When I was young, my parents' old music was from the 50s. Those were the first rock'n'roll artists. Today, grunge or Britpop are ancient. Even the 2000s are ages ago, even if it feels different. If you think about it like that, it's pretty weird, but you can't get past it thanks to the memes on the internet that keep reminding you of it. For us, Doris Day was nostalgia, Generation Z has Nirvana as nostalgia - and more neon. (laughs)

You mix nostalgia with melancholy on "Melancholia Beach".
Because one is inevitably contained in the other. But I tried very hard to avoid creating a retro trip. In the end, it's a pop album with few instruments and a lot of singing. I consciously made sure to cut out and shorten a lot of things in order to have catchy, short songs. In future, I will separate the instrumental minimal tracks from the pop numbers, because both worlds appeal to different audiences. Incidentally, the song "A Forest" barely got through to radio stations because the instrumental intro was too long. That won't happen to me again.

A brave new world of music, where everything should be compressed into a very tight corset ...
But the new world is also exciting and cool. When I had my first bands in the 80s, you absolutely needed a record company to have a say and shape you musically. They always wanted everyone to sound a bit more like U2, horrible. On the other hand, nobody could afford a studio without the label. Today, anyone can make great music - I'm all for that. But you have to address your audience yourself and directly, Spotify and AI won't help you there. You have to make yourself more tangible, keep posting and serve people. That's relatively unusual for me, but it interests me. It takes a lot of energy. I used to sleep four hours a day, party and still work, but now it's a bit more sedate. But there are many great examples of older artists who are very good at using the Internet. I take my cue from them.

Your album internalizes a bit of both. It's modern and crisply produced, but you can also tell that your own electronic nostalgia was an important component.
If that's how it comes across, then I'm totally happy. I'm also afraid that I'm moving far too much in a tunnel. Only retro doesn't suit me, because timelessness is important to me. Even in ten years' time, I don't want to be ashamed of the songs. You can't be too trendy, not too yesterday, but you should still remain very authentic. A few songs are very personal and emotional. Sometimes I try to write a beautiful love song, which of course never works out.

Can there ever be a song by Peter Zirbs that is completely devoid of gloom?
Not really. (laughs) Sometimes I'd like to do it differently, but if I write a song for three days, it's guaranteed to be dark. But it's important that I try, because otherwise it would just be dark. The plan for the album was contrasts. On the one hand the beach and the vacation feeling, on the other melancholy and darkness. The album should actually have been called "Melancholia Beach Bar", but it sounds far too much like a lounge and that drives me crazy. Whenever I lie on the beach, I first get a migraine or fall ill because the stress of everyday life subsides - then comes the depression, because everything you've pushed away comes up. For me, melancholy is part of the beach.

Is making music a way for you to deal with yourself? People are increasingly forgetting how to do that because they never stop and can't stand boredom.
Making music is absolutely therapeutic for me. I'm usually alone in the studio and can really let myself go. I often start crying because the lyrics bring up things that awaken my emotions. However, the song then processes these things because they have been expressed and said. You have to take the time to do good things for yourself. When I get stuck into projects in the studio for a few hours, I'm completely rejuvenated - it doesn't even have to be a whole song.

Do you have any songs on the album for which you had to go the extra mile emotionally?
In "You Said" I say things that I've never articulated like that before. It's about love and depression and you have to listen carefully to understand what it means. The melody is very beautiful and cheerful, but the lyrics are heavy and very personal. "What Could Go Wrong" also gets incredibly close to me, even though it's been out for almost four months. It sounds like a tough relationship song, but it's more about having problems with society. When you're often at a loss for words in life and you think everyone else is stupid. It's a relationship song, but it's not about people, it's about social misunderstandings.

When I read and research too much information, I feel physically sick. The state of the world does something to me and nowadays I'm bombarded with it. There's a reason why such discussions used to take place at the regulars' table until the landlord told you to shut up and it was quiet. The internet is the amplification of the regulars' table and if you do it the way I do, I'm a fool, then it gets physical.

Is "Melancholia Beach" also a bit of an umbrella term for the utopia you've created for yourself?
Absolutely. I didn't want to say it so directly, but it's a refuge on a parallel timeline that you can escape to. It's not all "Happy Pepi" there, but it's not all sad either. When I'm not feeling well, I listen to some of the songs on the album to get a better vibe. It's not a meditation album, but you're not alone on "Melancholia Beach". You're not over-texted, but there's someone there if you want. A beautiful, fictional retreat.

And you made your own dreams come true during the creation process - such as the collaboration with Rob Bolland on the song "Melancholy Mary". We remember the good man from Falco, who was one of your heroes ...
That's absolute madness. I was just in Belgrade and my label colleague had something to do a week before the premiere of the Falco musical and was sitting around with Rob Bolland in Vienna. He wrote to me and I told him to just ask him if he wanted to do a feature and Rob really said yes. What most people don't remember is that he already had a singing career. I wanted him to sing a song for me and not write or produce the track. He was extremely sweet and it was a show to record with him. A very intense but easy-going job. He has a very special biography. He was born in South Africa, actually Bure, then came to Germany via Holland and was in seven countries by the time he was ten. At 14, he and his brother were discovered as a boy band and he had a star career in Holland and the GDR until he was too old for it at 18. He's a freak who still enjoys music as much as he did 40 years ago.

So you met physically and didn't just send sounds and vocals back and forth virtually?
No, it all happened in real life. He had to go to Vienna a few times because he was a consultant for the Falco musical, so I took advantage of that and got him on board. I remember very clearly the first time I had Falco's "Vienna Calling" in my hand and now the guy was really here. He's also an absolute rock star, comes to the hotel lobby in his bathrobe and slippers. Totally lovely, but really cool. There were also no problems with the release. In the past there were sometimes big problems with even more prominent names, but with Bolland there was no stress at all. His son Justin Dylan, aka JD, sings the backing vocals on "Melancholy Mary" and I'm thinking about doing a song with him on the next album. He's extremely good.

What's behind the attribution that the album reflects a kind of "happy end of the world"?
Well, it's not happy and super, that's for sure. I don't want to be the bearer of bad news. I hope we get it all sorted out, but I'm also enough of a realist to realize that it looks good that we're going to drive the whole thing into the wall. In the 70s, issues like social democracy, feminism and idealism were on the rise. I've spent most of my life on that side of the pendulum and now we've been on the other for some time. I sometimes find that difficult to deal with. We've turned the tide socially many times and believe in the opportunity, but it doesn't really look good.

As a creative, you automatically stay younger in spirit ...
The relevance of music in the overall context has to be questioned anyway, but you can't actively participate in this world if you're not constantly in touch with what's happening and changing in the world. Or you're so crazy and in your own cocoon that you block out everything that's happening outside. But that's not me. I'm empathetic and want to feel what's happening in the world.

Has the musical scene in Belgrade had an influence on you? Has it opened up new horizons for you?
I have produced most of my music either in Belgrade or on the road. It's extremely convenient because I have the mic, laptop and good headphones in my backpack and can work anywhere. For me, this is an absolute benefit. My partner is responsible for booking the Belgrade Jazz Festival, among other things, and she's been doing it for 15 years. As a result, I've seen around 50 concerts in the last three years. I wasn't that deeply rooted in jazz before, I only knew the standards. From Brad Mehldau to minimal jazz - it's a crazy trip, but it's also very inspiring.

I can well imagine cooperating and working with various musicians in my electronic segment over the next few years. Perhaps under a different project name. Of course, the city itself also influences me. It's like a parallel Vienna and my many stays in Belgrade have made me realize again how much Vienna is Belgrade - in a positive sense. We here are culturally strongly influenced by the former Yugoslavia, but only a few people there know that.

Do you often talk about it with locals there?
They sometimes ask me if you notice anything about Belgrade in Vienna. What do you mean by notice? We are like an outpost. (laughs) We all grew up here with cevapcici and other things. Belgrade is also very exciting politically. They have a different history, of course, but you can tell that right-wing populism can go very far. If we do the wrong thing for a few years, we will quickly end up in that direction. Belgrade itself is very open-minded, because the right-wing populists and ultra-conservatives naturally get their votes from the country. It's the same all over the world. Musically, the city is incredibly interesting and inspiring.