PAUL SIES The thing is: Paul Sies gets bored terribly quickly. In a world full of ominous news, that's actually a good thing for once. Because if Paul Sies didn't, we wouldn't be getting his gloriously eclectic new album "Fucking and Crying" early next year, which he's just finishing as we speak. Here's the thing: Paul Sies is a born showman, but also a storyteller. Someone who stands on fruit crates and stages, who sings, screams, throws flowers and needs a handkerchief. Whose voice says: I really mean this, and I really want this. Drug memories here, love songs there, political warnings right after – and then suddenly something completely different. But come on, hurry up, I'm already over here. What's also striking: Paul writes songs that deliver big, round melodies, but tumble down the stairs in angular boxes, spreading a wonderfully strange sound, making noise and opening as they fall. And of course: you could draw endless comparisons. Hip-hop that fits into the twenties of two centuries. A classic singer-songwriter song that suddenly becomes a 70s rock beast and finally a shimmering technobeat. Because: why not? Nick Cave wears Tom Waits' suit on the dancefloor around the corner. Sublime and simultaneously dirty. Dresden Dolls, Trent Reznor, Nina Hagen, Scissor Sisters. Still sounds like 2026. Not entirely unimportant. Diary, letter, accusation, confession, plea, theater piece, outrage, film scene, real scene. And all with a voice you want to listen to, no matter what it says and sings. Thank God it's not at all irrelevant what it says and sings. So
About the concert
Performer
Paul Sies
