Fatigue and megalomania – this is how you could read the band name, among which Elif Dikec, Isabelle Pabst, Felix Nisblé and Yotam Schlezinger got together:
Tired Eyes Kingdom
But, of course, the kingdom that stretches behind the tired eyes is one of humbleness, not of almightiness.
The four have found and befriended each other in Bochum. But this is not to be given wide coverage here, just as much as their four-state origins. The band and their sound are post territorial – in the best sense – and in this respect a guiding example for artistic exchange processes and sound design, in times when others build walls.
Their music can only develop when the protagonists get lost in their sound for days and nights, until it is freed from attributions and causal ambitions and finds its way into a mood of freedom. What sounds so easy here is, however, the king‘s class of production. Tired Eyes Kingdom are children of our time
– but not good children. They are not concerned of taking up the contemporary music one-on-one or joining the ranks of the zeitgeist of the contemporaries. With stubborn willfulness they deconstruct impressions from what is shimmering around them. That‘s the reason why you have to think of a band like Portishead, or Moderat, Lali Puna, Micachu and the Shapes and Deerhunter, especially on the live shows where they perform behind a serious wall of instruments.
Now, a permanently peeling snake is anything but a beautiful playmate, yet exactly therein lays the uniqueness of Tired Eyes Kingdom, they look for change, but they admire the song and would never sacrifice it for the heat of the moment. The Cologne based DJ and producer Hans Nieswandt (among others Whirlpool Production), an avid fan and mentor of Tired Eyes Kingdom, has put this in a nutshell: