Viv and Arthur approach ten years in Berlin, ten episodes later.
We got mosquitoes. We got showering with a bucket. We got banned from the gym. We got back in Berlin. We got morning pages. We got unproductive guilt. We got an elephant that we eating one bite at a time. We got frogmen in a wakeboard park. We got an album release schedule. We got demos. We got a cumulative moment of success and perfection. We got birdsong. We gotta keep buggering on.
On Episode 9 of Postcards From Berlin, Arthur and Viv stumble through Arthur’s accidental Withnail and I holiday: a week of sideways rain, collapsing trees, and existential questions about whether Rudi’s nap time is for rest or forced genius. Viv discovers that one modest gig expands to colonise an entire week with rehearsals, merch-related tragedies, and three-hour train odysseys, while Arthur’s lovingly crafted bolognese recipe turns out to be mildly heretical for vegans, redeemed only by miso and Maggi. Between discussions of no-gimmicks art, gegen-glamour bass lines, and the dubious chic of living solely on buttered toast, they ask (not for the first time) whether this entire “creative practice” is just a highly elaborate joke that’s gone on far too long.
Your adopted East Berliners try recording from Arthur’s studio, testing the compression limits of your headphones with bad sound effects. Arthur & Viv explore the limits of a creative space, and how the physicality of a studio or artistic setting can compress or expand an idea. Arthur tries to say less, Viv has perfect good decent pitch, and together they have too much ego.
“I think it’s really the sound that tips people over the edge.”
Oh is that drugs? Sam, erstwhile host and impromptu automotive consultant, rejoins the podcast to give Art & Viv a dressing down regarding their lives and lifestyles. Art & Sam make a modest proposal, while Viv considers a more deviant solution.