If you have (on that note: if you are known to have broken one or some, but never had it broken yourself? Then, ask yourself; are you really an adult person?) then you know it hurts. Badly. If you are an actual adult? It hurts even more.
What is this all about? Nothing special really.
Apart from the fact that I am actually heartbroken and… that there must be someone who is accountable, there must exist someone responsible for it all, deep, within?
It still does not make sense too you? OK. That is because it is completely unrelated. It is in no way, not even remotely connected to this mass of musically related texts. Honestly, in no way, what so ever. I promise.
However that does change the fact. This is Rotterdam’s sound, raw power. R Funcken delivers, once again.
The tracks from the forthcoming album are devesting and they are litteraly destroying everything in their path. But, you may ask. How can you say that again? How can you make that claim again? You may ask that very same question and you are very well entitled to pose the question. Come on, again? The same thing/claim/etc. so many years? And that may be a valid question. It does npt change the facts…
Firstly: just listen to it.
Secondly: one and a half decade of perfection. It was brilliant 2000 (from 1995 and…) do you really think it is going to be less so now? Think about it.
Thirdly: everyone needs to think about R Funcken.
”- How do you know this place even exist?
– I was born there.
– Why did you leave?
– I didn’t. I was.. taken as a child. Stolen.
…Redemption.”
It is a quote from a recent not that good film (definetlty nothing spectacular, but I do like it. It is fictional, but it is very close to my reality. Hence, I like it.)
It is so typical Roel Funcken. The start and the rest is excellent and you relax for a bit, then… something like ”Nefit Kraton” happens? The 2017 version of R Funcken is… unreal. It is just, so unreal. It is similar, kind of like getting your heart broken.
I dedicate this text to: CPH 2000.
Over-and-out.
PS. The picture? Chosen randomly by a third-person, i.e not my workings.