Flight Of The Bumblebee: A Listen To Buzz By The Krimis

A rebellion of sorts. Ironically, through an admirably creative outlet, The Krimis - Max Müller - adopts a fictional Berlin persona, choosing cutting humour, to stress the pressures that the younger generation face today: working all the hours they humanly can for ‘the man’, but bearly covering extortionate rent and existence itself. Poetic rants and Post-Punk rumblings speak of the nameless character's woes in a four track EP Buzz- the continuous drone of a busy bee that never stops- released on tape and vinyl through labels Polaks Records and rds rec on November 5th

Lead single Dull counts three repetitive days of work that sluggishly play out over guitar, bass and beats, possessing a knack of sounding like a jam session with intuitive mates in a relaxed environment as a ticking clock points to the boredom. "I hate these people, to be honest, but they give me money for answering emails, so I take my chances to not kill them," declares the weary chap, using coffee as his weapon, boiling frustration rising to the surface as he obeys a route for money, not for love.

"It never stops," overlaps, clatters and bangs, rises and falls until a whisper, "It never stops, until it stops." Story over and two possible endings like a Goosebumps book: our featured fella has broken the chain and found the courage to quit or has stopped because of a breakdown and burnout. Choice is yours, but one is sticking to the former.

A captivating capitalism novella of misery picks up the reigns in second release Foolish Pleasures, where Garage Rock verses with a musically aggressive attitude bob along alternating with a higher keyed Post-Punk chorus. And, to round it all off, an Indie breakdown meets the trio of styles to conclude.

Things still aren't rosy in the character's customs. Life's pressures mount illustrated by the metaphor of a coffee-coloured horse tearing around a racing course of monotony with all his might - glistening in sweat - but ultimately heading nowhere, even winning awards glory to higher powers. Listeners were left wondering if the final two tracks on Buzz take a turn of optimism or analyse the struggle.

In a Folky spin, we hear the singing voice of our Krim for the first time. Tuneful riffs in a strumming Kook's manner have you wondering if this is a brighter delivery, but low and behold, it ends in the trippy, Max Müller style we are accustomed to. Alarmingly, revolting against its jolly backdrop, the track expresses the opinion that we are watched 24/7 in some way or form, à la George Orwell's musings. 'I'm watching you, I'm watching you, no matter what you do, I'm watching you.'

Houseplants is an unforeseen sweet number to end and an illuminating outlook summoning the innocence of nurturing a growing life. A reminder to pause, recall and be mindful of all of the good things we all have with the gratitude that we arent a shrub stuck in a pot. A catchy motif of sound alongside a blend of spoken word and serenading jests at a low level of responsibility, compared to what is out there in the big wide-world. Krimis' superb concept piece is funny as can be while not shying from stark truth. Spot on.

Article By Beverley Knight