The analog man

»Do you want to go to Oidorno? “I still have a card,” Flo asked me weeks ago. Flo actually always has cards to give away. He always buys several, and someone from his circle of friends will go with them. Sometimes he gets stuck on one, but he doesn't care. Flo is a very generous person. I agreed straight away.

We are standing in front of the Kreuzberg festival hall. Flo has beer with her and hands me a bottle. Then Friedemann, one of Flo's work colleagues, comes up to us and holds out an entry ticket. »I have one over. Can you sell them quickly?” he says and has already disappeared into the ballroom. “Huh?” says Flo. “Pretty cheeky!” I say. “Why do we have to worry about this?” Nevertheless, we go back together and ask around if anyone else needs a card. After fifteen minutes we give up. We're going back. Flo hands over the ticket at the ticket office: “For someone who still needs one. Free!”

»Aren't they at Audiolith? They’re Mossad agents!” 

As I stand in line to get beer, Friedemann tells me about an acquaintance who he told he was going to the Oidorno concert. The friend would have replied: “Aren’t they from Audiolith? They’re Mossad agents!” I immediately have the feeling that I’m at the right concert. I drink two and a half beers during the evening and get pretty drunk. During the concert I try to draw in this state. Next to the stage in the semi-darkness, I can't see what I'm putting on paper. I also dance along cautiously. The announcement comes from the stage: “Take care of each other! Don’t be so violent!” The space in front of the stage is cleared for Flintas for their hit “Aufs Maul”.

There are all good people in the Kreuzberg ballroom. Most of them are twenty years younger, I guess on average I was born in 1986. I was born in 1966. When I look around I also notice that I have the longest hair of all the men, even though I'm not even long-haired. Okay, no wonder at an Oidorno concert where, even if ironically broken, the skinhead cult is still indulged. The band name is a portmanteau of “Oi!” and the name of the philosopher Theodor W. Adorno.

I knew the band Oidorno, but to be honest, I didn't really know their music. Her first two EPs were released in 2018 and 2019. They recently pressed their manageable oeuvre onto a best-of LP. A record with all the songs, which are also consistently very good. Oidorno concerts are sing-along evenings. The audience knows every line. Now the people are almost ten years older than when the first record came out. Back then they were still young and unattached. The men seem like family men who are happy to be able to go out for once. Smoking and drinking are rushed and a bit too heavy. The smoking area is bursting at the seams.

After the concert, a white-haired DJ plays Little Richard's greatest hits at full volume. People are dancing. I feel great, slightly bruised. Rarely have I felt so young at a concert surrounded by younger people. Thanks Oidorno! Thanks Flo! On the way out, I ask the cashier what happened to the ticket. Actually, someone got it. One other person even gave away a ticket. I receive it as a souvenir.