Die Nerven

So a black album, self-titled. No wolf adorns the cover, no: a black Shepherd Dog in front of a black background.

Die Nerven is also a mood picture. And in the consistent vocabulary reduction of their lyrics, which remain vague enough to set impulses in the chaotic complexity of the present, the music has also become a mouthpiece for discomfort with which one can identify in each of their pieces: DIE NERVEN, which are ten in form and content accomplished contemplations of the present with foam at the mouth, which are finally written as simplified narratives with sharpie on a white T-shirt, so that the colour presses through and perpetuates itself on the chest pumping upset between anger and fear.