The album is called ‘Spit’, because I read ‘The Tin Drum’ by Günter Grass when I was 16 and I couldn’t believe that anyone could write anything like that. There is a scene where a girl called Maria lies on the beach. She puts popping candy into the palm of her hand and asks Oskar, the boy who refuses to grow over 3 feet tall, to spit in her palm. When he does, she gets an orgasm. I decided to study German Literature, and later moved to Berlin. Then I got my first casio keyboard.
I am searching for the site of my own desire in these songs. Trying to understand my vast naïve romanticism, my fear and melancholy, and my dreamlike dances with nostalgic fantasy. I am exploring and trying to overcome a subconscious desire to be hurt and hurt again by choosing impossible situations: ‘the question keeps coming, who’s gonna hold me?/who’s gonna share the morning light with me?/I’ve got a good idea who it could be/but I’m not sure if he really likes me.’
‘Spit’ is a brutally true record. Every feeling was felt, and then translated into a picture I could transmit.