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Absurdist-punk band Leipzig makes music from chaos
Bandung, West Java, post-punk unit Leipzig talks about getting lost in its semantics, the absence of rationale in their chaotic stage acts and avoiding any accountability related to their debut studio album.
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Fire-breather: Mario Prasetya's fire-breathing antics were initially planned to debut on Leipzig's live performance at IFI Bandung when it opens for Jakarta rock-band Perunggu, but the band decided to err on the right side and did it at Critical Eleven, opening for Bandung surf rockers The Panturas on July 23. (Courtesy of Muhammad Fauzan Santana) (Courtesy of Muhammad Fauzan Santana)
B
andung post-punk unit Leipzig talks about getting lost in its semantics, the absence of rationale in its chaotic stage acts and avoiding any accountability related to its debut studio album.
"Lagu kahiji [this is the first song]," Mario Prasetya, Bandung, West Java, post-punk band Leipzig's vocalist, squeals over the sound of a thumping floor tom and snare drum at the beginning of the last track on their debut studio album, Garbage Disposal Communique.
Whether inserted deliberately as a senseless blurb or mistakenly left in the mix after a change of track-listing decision, the squeal, spoken in Sundanese, represents the band's consistently incongruous collective state-of-mind.
Clocking at just a little over 13 minutes, the 10-track album delivers a set of fairly straightforward, no-nonsense musicality.
The band's aesthetics, however, goes beyond its well-thought-out (sometimes deliberately goofy) visuals, inextricably linked to their vaudevillian live performance.
Sign of four
"We did everything in a month or so," claimed Iman Firman Amarullah, the band's drummer, speaking to The Jakarta Post, on Nov. 10, on the second floor of a shared office-store complex at Jl. Bengawan in Bandung.
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