Oskar Ich is like grobe Mettwurst. Greasy but not fine. Heavy but still kind of fluffy. A colorful mélange of pastel rose mixed with loud white to become a kaleidoscopic spread. Raw and gruff manufactured, however still delicate. Impermanence and death meet the spicy sense of proportion, to pool their forces for the sake of the fortunate gourmet. Pure and simple: pork poetry at its best.
Based in m.E.T.t. city West Berlin, Oskar usually ranges the Grunewald woodlands, searching for beech-nut, rosehip, boar and other tasty ideas to create his unique sound pinnacles (USPs). He calls his music sleepstep, which refers to the dusty-vaporized, sleepwalkish sound and silly melodic repetitiveness of his songs. Sing along with a true friend of good nosh and fine arts. Tell your neighbors, friends and family about the truth that lies within the pork poetry movement, and the rich tunes of sleepstep music.