Die Nerven continue to carry post-punk and noise into the twenty-first century – not least because, in recent years, they have allowed more accessible moments into their songs. A state of suspension between pop and abrasion. Others have done the same. The question is: why does it prove so compelling in the case of Die Nerven?
Julian Knoth keeps track of the number of concerts, as Max Rieger announces at the E-Werk with undisguised pride. The tally now stands at 400 shows. At that point, another question arises: how to evade routine?
In terms of instrumentation and song structure, Die Nerven leave little room for change. Where bands such as Sonic Youth once brought an arsenal of guitars to the stage, Die Nerven operate with restraint. Knoth and Rieger switch between perhaps a handful of instruments. »Neue Wellen« rises from the tremor of bass and drums, while the guitar staggers forward. The band lets itself drift within these textures – at times surging ahead, at others descending towards the effects pedals.
The songs often unfold in extended passages driven solely by this force – the compression of melody and momentum. Kevin Kuhn strikes a hard pulse between guitar and bass, while Rieger and Knoth push at the edges of explosion. It makes little difference which of their six studio albums the evening’s selections are drawn from.
Extension of the Battleground
What once came across more snotty now dissolves into this sound without forfeiting its essence. In this accessibility, Die Nerven sweep everything along. With wiry yet effortless movements, Max Rieger coaxes vehemence from his guitar.
»Ich habe Angst vor Begebenheiten, Ängste vor Situationen, obwohl ich weiß, dass diese Ängste sich überhaupt nicht lohnen« sounded more defiant over a decade ago on the album Fun than in its live incarnation. Back then, fear seemed the final act of refusal. Today, the current album asks: »Warum habe ich Angst, aber du nicht?« Fear as stark bewilderment. What else remains?
Die Nerven succeed in binding the raw to the beautiful. Within the constant play of loud and quiet, groove and far more melody lie concealed than first glance – or first listen – might suggest. In »Große Taten«, the band makes this connection to pop explicit. Knoth’s bass sets the song vibrating, Kuhn drives the rhythm into it, and Rieger lays a wide, sustaining melody across the top. Even – or especially – here, the energy discharges with force. It is a sound that occupies the entire body, filling the space. A sound that acts physically – not as mere volume, but as the condensation of rhythm and melody. Its impact resides precisely in its apparent accessibility.
»Und ich dachte irgendwie, in Europa stirbt man nie.« In that thought, Die Nerven are not alone. Nor in the anger. They do not conceal it within a hermetic sound, nor abstract these emotions – they allow them to stand in the room as energy.
