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(double album)

by Interhotel

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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    (the one with the phone booth)

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once upon a long long time to go, I fly with the wild wind, the light-skinned guy on the back of her bike. suddenly things decompose, in a breath she wears peculiar clothes, twisting and winding, a sigh, and the whites of her eyes shining. and she says: just look away, that’s nothing to do with you, everyone’s a strange desire. she’s out of reach and on my mind when I fly with the wild wind, hooking up with someone, looking for her. I’ve seen her picture in the news, reading she’s missing I heard a hissing, was it me? was it her? was it you? just look away, that’s nothing to do with you, everyone’s a strange desire. go your way, see you some day, together we will play with fire.
maxi maniac 05:47
night is coming closer checking up on me, everything in her hands, nothing I can see. sha-sha go-go razor, let the game begin, ballroom in the kitchen, thin lines growing thin. la nuit n'a pas de fin, je ne peux pas m’empêcher, un maniaque sur Mars, rien qu’il ne puisse voir, sha-sha go-go rasoir, les jeux continuent, disco en cuisine, lignes encore plus fines. Venus running through her little shack, followed by some hypomaniac. venus can no longer stop running. hypomaniac, it’s so stunning!
I should write a letter, but I won’t. I could go for a walk, but I don’t. I can here you knocking, I can here you scream, whatever comes to your mind, I’d prefer not to. I’m just sitting here waiting for nothing. I scribble this and that, I copy a cat just because I’d prefer not to.
je ne sais pas ce qu’il m’arrive, tout autour me rend negative. j’ai peur du bruit, peur de la plage, hôtel sans nuit, pas de voyage. je reste chez moi, je fais les quatre-cent pas. plafond, couloir, fatigue de l’été. la mer toute noire, fatigue de l’été. sortie de secours, les escaliers, destination perdue, trouvée. en attendant l’année prochaine, le monde tourne et reste quand même. je me perds ailleurs, les premières dernières heures. tout le temps, ça revient, fatigue de l’été. Ibiza je m’en fous, fatigue de l’été. je reste chez moi, je fait les quatre-cent pas. plafond, couloir, fatigue de l’été, la mer toute noire, fatigue de l’été. le moment d’inertie, fatigue de l’été.
chasing the dragon, chasing the dude. what am I after? I’m in a fearless mood. the night flies past me, I’m heading east. I can already feel caressing the beast. forbidden zone, forbidden city, forbidden clone. what do I say, you look so pretty!
spacer 4L 04:21
en route quelque part, un tour à trois, sans but, classique, placide, tout droit. progrès constant n’importe lequel, en ce moment dans la 4L, ça roule! le truc du flash, le chic d’occase, maison en ruine, trafic en phase. transformation, plonger dans le pool. papillon, starlette, tu lâches je coule, ça roule! time is a spacer dealing in twilight, mean chaser, drive me into the night!
hello from mexico, postmark veracruz. sand grains and banknotes in someone else’s shoes. how I’d love to be there, too, be there with you, instead I’m standing here like a mute cuckoo. for I’m a lonely soul (j’ai une âme solitaire). airmail to mexico, feathery and blue. you go out in the sun, and I feed the moon. airoplane to mexico, another empty seat. I walk clandestinly the nocturnal street, for I’m a lonely soul (j’ai une âme solitaire)
le kiosque à deux pas, doucement, doucement. les gens que je croise, zig-zag, zig-zag. j’attends que ce soit mon tour, patience, patience. c’est la ville en été, vacances, vacances. ce sont les mots qui s’installent sur le blanc d’une carte postale. des mots qui sont jetés en attendant la prochaine levée. ici c’est mieux qu’en face, pourtant, pourtant, parasols et terrasse semblant faux-semblant. sur le pont, la plage désir distant. ce sont les mots qui s’installent sur le blanc d’une carte postale, des mots qui se réfugient en moi, en pensant à toi. un espace qui s’inscrit pour être en suspens, tout ça pour exprimer, pour devenir le vent. j’ai rien à dire. je vous dois combien? rien de rien. ce sont les mots qui s’installent sur le blanc d’une carte postale, les mots derrière lesquelles je disparais, tu sais, je sais …
It's sad to fall asleep, it separates people. sleeping together, you're all alone. escape.
che sarà 04:13
I wonder how we ended up here, sur cette épave flottante, 2000 and one light year de la maison. may be it was purely a mistake de dieu ou de nietzsche. here comes the daybreak, déjà réveillé. che sarà is the name of our ship, and from afarwe can hear the sirenes. the wax in our ears melting adagio, waves of fear carry us away. please tell me what you see, la mer nulle et vide. mirage or déjà-vu, c’est ce que c’est. so let’s wait and see, les paris sont ouverts. che sarà is the name of our ship and from afar we can hear the sirenes. tears in our eyes running allegretto, the wind in our hair, and the world going under our skin giving us the creeps, chair de poule, blowing us away, ça en jète, making us lose our cool, perplexe, feeling like a fool, comme un idiot. che sarà is the name of our ship, and from afar we can hear the sirenes, our hearts beating fast, pumping al piu presto in the sea of life, let’s take a dive, che sarà …
anti-héros 04:38
buy yourself a drink, stop thinking you’re the only one. open up to indecision no yes, no no, open up your kimono. find yourself finding, hide yourself hiding, there’s someone to lose. c’est de la triche, du fétiche, pure pastiche, recommence à zéro. la mélancolie, l’isolation, la résignation, je kiffe les anti-héros. why are you moaning? the dude’s world’s collapsing, just you wait and see. now that I find myself finding, hiding from someone anti-me like you, and it’s oh so true. l’erreur fatale, l’échec total, l’antisocial, je kiffe les anti-héros …
follow you 04:22
we were lost right from the start. my old street-map falls apart. so what are we heading for? I can’t see you anymore. follow you, why don’t you follow me, too? I follow you. why don’t you follow me, too? you mess around with me, and now I’m in the dark. you are miles away looking for somewhere to park, eating ice cream from a cone, leaving me in the danger zone follow you … clermont-ferrond, lyon, marseille, I can see you fade away. blind man’s bluff or peek-a-boo, all I do is follow you. follow you …
lost weekend 03:02
friday night with drinks a gogo in kaurismaki’s bohemian crystal. silly faces, such a sad collage, fading traces, no gods, no entourage, a lost weekend, week-end perdu. saturn night with john cassavetes, wives and stardust, exit, blackout. fading faces that no one traces … sunday letdown, a day at the races, doing doings, undoing the laces. frantic faces, cardiac massage, fading traces, gods wear camouflage … either the weekend’s lost or I am …
ici c’est mieux qu’en face …
escape 03:55
breathless we are, from afar godard, as we model ourselves on the same film persona, toi et moi dans la nuit noire, sounds so bizarre, but that’s how I feel when I steal our getaway car. get in, let go, tokyo police radio playing our song on and on. escape. ever so elusive, we never rest, there’s no east and no south, there’s only north by northwest, toi et moi sur la route noire, jaguar, space bar, falling star, escape. we leave these awful shrinking feelings behind and pass it over to the time out of mind, toi et moi, des lunettes noires, les films noirs, la série noire. It's sad to fall asleep, it separates people, sleeping together, you're all alone. escape. still believe in love in our time, it's too late to be scared , l want all or nothing, I can't do without you, I want to know what's behind your face, to become immortal and then die, the harder they fall …
somebody out there, my beliefs are swaying, waiting for god to go and see me praying. open the window when the wind blows, staring into space on my tip-toes. living in the city, not a soul in sight, living in the city, swan-black, dove-white, living in the city. wheels spinning, watching the world go by. silver-faced grinning under a darkening sky. open your eyes when the night falls, staring into space where love calls. living in the city … open the window, open your eyes, staring into space while time flies. living in the city …
one (deux) 04:35
good god, this is heaven. it feels so strange, at home for a change. am I supposed to be here? no, this is not where I belong. I had twelve good friends, that’s where my story ends. one isn’t enough, j’en veux deux, pas de deux. what shall I do now, the curtains that I draw, godfather law. what am I supposed to see? holding on to all my mother’s celluloid. angels for free, but not a single tree. one isn’t enough, j’en veux deux, pas de deux … et moi, suis-je censé être ici? que pense tu, où est ma place? qu’y a-t-il derrière le rideau? le ciel? des parents éloignés en super-8? ne te fais pas d’illusions, "on" est un con. "un", c’est quelque chose, j’en veux deux, j’en veux deux. one isn’t enough, j’en veux deux, pas de deux …
what can I say, I should say nothing, cause nothing is bigger than anything I say. what can I do, what can I bring along, may be a song, simple and sad. these are the days, this is the human race, afraid of losing face, when there’s nothing left to lose. these are the days, these are the lonely nights, planets and satellites, and somebody sings the blues to you. what did I say, I don’t want to disturb you, but something is bigger than the poor life that we live. just don’t forget, don’t forget to dance, dancing in the dark, with the shadow of some other self. these are the days … these are mysterious ways. no frown, no melting gaze. only masqueraders
non-lieu one day in may, light muses blown away, dark figures and secrets instead, similarity and solitude spread. an empty place late in the evening, can you hear the blackbird sing? it sounds like an opening verse, but here comes the very reverse, it’s hers: la dernière danse commence … I happened to end up in a club you may know, it’s called under the volcano, the way people revel and beguile is going to come back in style, bittersweet like truth and the essence of adoration and adolescence plus the gift to forgive and forget, kisses, drinks, things, smoke and sweat, and wet. la dernière danse commence … this is the last dance dawning like there’s no tomorrow. is this the last dance dawning? you never know …
encore 01:15


produced by Interhotel (graf tati & cécile dupaquier)
songs, recording & mix: graf tati
mastering: emanuel geller
excitation signals: fellow human beings
graphic design & photo (front): thibaut de ruyter
photos: ptolémée (back), kai von kröcher (inside)
p+c 2021 tic trafic


released September 10, 2021


all rights reserved



Interhotel Berlin, Germany

Interhotel is a Berlin based duo founded in 2020 by the author and musician Graf Tati and the visual artist Cécile Dupaquier. A home-studio project, they reflect the mood of our times while remembering the late 1980s without nostalgia.

Kai von Kröcher
Thibaut de Ruyter
... more

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