AA. VV.
Die Todliche Dosis

Here I am, in the middle of a shitty day, a long series of small events all gone wrong.

A stop at the bar for a takeaway sandwich in the orange zone. I get into the car, take the first bite, the sky opens up, the sun comes out, wow...

Wow and Double Wow, or rather Benesum!!! I'm sorry to say it, but the zen story of the tiger and the strawberry automatically comes to mind. So I almost happily head towards the next nuisance, a training course where I’m supposed to enlighten about twenty young men and women.

The course is remote and since I didn’t quite trust my connection, they have prepared a lovely little room in the premises of a colorful 70s-style place. Moreover, since I told them that I’m a bit dense with these things, there's even a young lady at my complete disposal.

Formal introductions, then, since I am one of those who collect things from the street, I start with the sandwich/strawberry: pick it pick it, eat it eat it.

I quote Bruno Munari, the constitution, the milk and strawberries scene from The Seventh Seal, Dead Poets Society, Saint Francis (all sordid tricks)...

I continue with that trendy bullshit today of the suitcase, okay, pack that damn suitcase, and besides a toothbrush and underwear, throw in whatever you like, the journey is yours.

Finally, the beneficent shock by Mr. Nobody, because it’s terrible being somebody, right Emily?

“I am Nobody! Who are you?

Are you Nobody too?

Then there’s a pair of us!

Don’t tell! They’d advertise—you know!”

Ah, I know, I’m not quite up to it, I’m somebody too, and incidentally, at this moment, I'm preening myself. But who knows, in time...

Now, young people, indulge yourselves with this punk. Sex Pistols, Clash? Oh no, you see, you always want someone!!!

These (they) are called Plastix, they did four concerts and then they broke up. We are in Vienna (but it doesn’t matter) in 1981 (and this doesn’t matter either)...

What matters is the shock....

But now the dereview...

...

Friends, brothers, comrades!!!

The paths are infinite, the possibilities endless.

For instance, can a compilation of misguided Viennese punk and post-punk bands (dated 1981) be a masterpiece? Well, yes.

As for me, I've been to Vienna once: cutlets, sacher torter, Egon Shiele.

Nothing less, nothing more...

However, since that ancient trip of mine doesn't really relate, here’s the list of the fine folks involved: Plastix, Sprays, Commercials, A-Gen 53, Athletiko Kunst Gerasdorf, Molto Brutto.

Molto Brutto? Oh yes, one of the bands is called that.

Anyway, in this “Die Todliche Dosis,” or “The Lethal Dose,” you find: “oblique waves,” screaming screams, breathless panting, sharp rhymes, tanz irony

But also successful experiments of beautiful chaos with the first lab oddities and the first scraps of cold wave. However, things work very well even when it’s just punk.

The result, in the end, is a kind of unlikely little guide penned by rather feverish scribes.

With a broken line that, crossing almost all the knowledge of the era, takes you from a point A of sheer roughness to a point B of scrambled avant-garde.

Well, those were the days...

What really stands out, though, is the stunning energy, the very fresh freshness. Stuff that resurrects the dead.

Finally, kudos to the Austro-German language, so perfectly suited for these sounds.

Trallallà...