The Donkey

Warhaus returns with 5 th studio album The Donkey.

Rhythmic handclaps. Rustling percussion. Ominous falsetto vocals, beneath which an ethereal synth seems to search for a way through. From the very first note, The Donkey, is taut with tension.

Maarten Devoldere was at home with his girlfriend and the dog, happy, calm, and super zen. Nothing but peace and quiet in his life. But apparently, an overdose of peace of mind can be dangerous too; that’s how much energy came pouring out when he started making music. The filter was gone, the anesthetic had worn off, and suddenly he wanted something else. Something rawer, something more real, perhaps? For years, he had churned out one dandyish pop song after another, each more superior than the last, with almost insulting ease. There’s nothing wrong with craftsmanship, but now it felt like a tailored suit whose sleeves had suddenly become too short, the trousers just a little too tight around the hips. What if he threw those golden melodies out the window and went looking for the primal urges lurking inside his chest? One relentless drive, one stream of energy straight from the heart. The demons of old channeled into frantic music with broken beats, and a voice that no longer wants to please but to cry out.

Because The Donkey taps into something deeper. ‘Ah, there you are,’ a friend said after the first listen. As if Devoldere is only now truly showing himself, while taking the opportunity to spit in the face of all that prefab pop tailored for TikTok. The Donkey is merely a thrilling first step towards a version of Warhaus that neither we nor he yet dare to imagine.