It’s night, an abandoned quarry in the middle of nowhere, roughly 200 kilometers from Berlin. Out of the darkness looms a circus tent and grounded pirate ship both overflowing with dancing bodies lost to the music that cuts through the air.
On stage, three Bernese strike up the final song of their live-set. Their hands ache and foreheads are smeared with sweat as they pound away on guitar, keyboard, drum-machine and sampler. The music fades and the crowd goes wild.