Recap: 24 Hours in Prague. Electronic Beats Festival

One may imagine something like trips like this like class trips. Tipsy from all the impressions of good moments and even better music, you stroll in the herd through the streets of intricate cities, remains here and there to capture the smallest details. At the end, it has already seen everything, it experienced quite a bit – what remains are the wild memories and a little meowing in the head. If you not come after these small travel despite the acute lack of sleep to rest, it is perhaps most not abate never-ending endorphin extension – if even the aftershock is still so large, the bang must have been enormous: Grimes, wood kid and The whitest boy Alive in a single night, anywhere in Prague. In the face of the electronic beats Festival line ups you would choose also equal to the option of immediate heart lawn induced impotence. We have opted for plan B however: hang in there and just not disturb not let too much euphoria.

Los was on Saturday morning with Pierre with pleasure, lajessie, Nina is Travelettes, Katja lesmads, Frank neatnew, Marcel by Amy and pink and the good Kai alias Stylespion luggage.

Two times two hours, we found one time, the environment in Prague to explore little small. That is not enough of course long, to conjure up here all tips from the sleeve, but so much should be said: the „ Golden City “ with all its Gothic and Baroque buildings, is characterized by contrasts, like maybe only falling on us a second look. While the House tips lined up in candy tones and tell stories of the past, everything that is happening on par in today’s culture of the Slavic country propelled us: glittering showcase, this overloaded aesthetics, the different culture of the prestige. Some corners seem almost Mediterranean transfigured. At least that’s a beautiful Prague sunny Prague.

At some point that after a dinner at the Imperial, suddenly all clouds burst open and prevent our on-time arrival at the Festival location with their flowing drop. Adieu, Grimes, welcome to frustration. Long the mood depression lasted not, however because the Frenchman Yoann Lemoine alias wood kid produced shortly after his own great balls of fire. Good gosh, with lots of bass and more passion. And even though I already after the heavily-hyped track „ iron “ enough had large staging of the Jack-of-all-trades, I was suddenly part of this constructed world of art that hypnotized your legs and surreal transfigured sense. I’m frozen to the bones / I am a soldier on my own / I do not know the way.

Then The Whitest Boy Alive, the explosion, the musical heart palpitations. I don’t know what happens to us when the bass is like a buzzing creature from another sphere, when prancing chords, electronic sounds and Erlend Oyes voice to a mist, merge to form a vortex which whirls messed up any feelings between Sunday breakfast, star gazing and Explodierenwollen. But it feels perfectly, every time. Maybe the music by Marcin, Sebastian, Daniel and Erlend’s laissez faire like the bridge of between conscious regulation, intelligent composition and a little breeze. She is beautiful in this forthright manner. As a face, the corners and edges has, that is, rather than merely 0815. Like people who radiate from the inside out, rather than dazzle with their plates flawlessness.

An energy to feel that perhaps sometimes missing us Germans was amidst the crowd. Let go, let determine the body itself, as he bend to the beat wants to have fun without the use of the head. Shout for joy, because the moment is so good, that you don’t want to let him go. The guys show up on stage that they are part of the sparking ecstatic mass, which celebrates the life and the love and the music.

Mike Skinner admitted his DJ-set to be the best, scooped from a potpourri of various styles and was able to catapult also the Schläfrigsten of us on the dance floor. Last but not least the constant presence and the tentative dance of his loyal Manager, Zigarettenhalters and back winds made it also very sympathetic. Because someone may well be alone probably. And still: Mike Skinner alone is just not the streets, and we need to get used to us probably.

My Dears, it’s been an honor.