Let's begin at zero. Imagine all the creatures that extinction drove into the sediment millions of years ago, only to finally rise again transformed into slimy fossil oil, to aid capitalism in its attempts to burn the earth. Because it’s not vegetable oil you should think of when OIL, the band, comes into play. No, think of a spark and ignition. Because OIL is a band of flammable material. Carefully put together by four gentlemen, who've been earning their corn in the fields of records and recording, acting, writing, gastronomy and comics : Reverend Dabeler, Timur "Mosh" Çirak, Gereon Klug, Maurice Summen.
But we wanted to start from zero: The music? Delicious. Like a club sandwich of funk, filled with guitar noise, Blues Disco and Lofi-Electronics. Bite into it and lush organ sounds squish out the sides. The good-looking post-punk bass lines keep it all together. Wizards of Garage? Mr Klug, the rascal from the big city, sent me a picture of two run-down huts in the middle of nowhere in Schleswig-Holstein to get me in the right mood. Possibly. This is no garage music, not even carport music. This music is a run-down shack with disco lights. It’s draughty and it’s a known fact that dancing in draughty shacks is an effective way of keeping warm. You might even end up feeling hot. This is OIL, and not a PIL song!
OIL addresses topics that are just as relevant for the residents of the Rendsburg-Eckernförde district. In order of appearance: Fracking, Incarnation, Porn. Overblown self-confidence meets the couch potato, in possession of a Tchibo account and a subliminal bubble of hate. Means of communication make it impossible to communicate ("Du ich meld mich später"). Yoko Ono gets a cream cake in the face, and sues everything and everyone for everything and everyone. A kind of free flux saxophone plays along, as if OIL was giving a nod to "Loud", the Can’t-Play-Free-Jazz-Nevertheless-Still-Play-Free-Jazz masterpiece of the DIY kings ‘Half Japanese’. But just without the Free Jazz. Because OIL don't want to dislocate you, they want to see you dance. Even to tracks like "Wichsbold" or "D.I.Y." (Do it yourself).
One good thing about OIL is that the music is sustainable. One other good thing about OIL is that the lyrics are sustainable, too. Just like Helge Schneider, who could have been the godfather for the title track "Naturtrüb". Or maybe it was Captain Beefheart who was the role model. A bilious stream of accusations, spoken over an instrumental track, "Music can’t just be there to jam" jams the music to this diss on the stupid earth, which Beefheart called the "golf ball of God": "Hey, Earth! That's a real underachievement you're giving us here!" "Let's just finally fly away!" And then the band really takes off like Donny Hathaway's "The Ghetto". And really, seriously, no joke now, that is top notch.
If you want to learn more about the flow of time, oily production processes and how all this is connected to Frank Zander and Dean Blunt, you should read the novel of the same name that will be published simultaneously with the album.
REVEREND CHRISTIAN DABELER: Musician, writer, sailor and actor. From Rollo Aller to Deichbullen. From Klotz & Dabeler to Universal Gonzales. From Rocko Schamoni to OIL. All just a few miles apart.
TIMUR MOSH ÇIRAK: The secret weapon of OIL. Bass player, writer, mocha boss and comic book artist. Of Istanbul origin.
GEREON KLUG: He says he's some kind of writer. From Hanseplatte newsletters to "Leider geil", children's books and the only cookbook that can be cooked. OIL is Klug's first band. He writes lyrics, sings and plays the saxophone because he used to be able to.
MAURICE SUMMEN: Musician, label owner and author. Responsible for music and lyrics at OIL. And even though he is not the label boss at OIL, he often acts like one.