“A MACHINE WITH A HUMAN TOUCH.”
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A delayed gratification, but a gratification nonetheless. A t-shirt with Ilian Tape printed on it was cut incorrectly. After having diffused the situation and the angry face of a man, it all worked out for the best. It was the first time that FIBRE found themselves looking out for the time on a night out. It was 23:45 and still no show, 12:12, 12:35 and so on. It was at around 12:50 that the Zenker Brothers finally made their appearance. Then that was it; we were instantly captivated and taken away by their mechanical sounds and enchanting smiles. The Munich brothers would playfully bounce back and fourth selecting their tracks and each would groove as the other sibling would be toying with the decks. Dario would look up with his eyes only to see the crowd reacting and look back down with an enigmatic smile forming on his face. Meanwhile, Marco’s body would tell stories of his nonchalant yet pleasantly impressed feelings. The reaction from the crowd left them slightly surprised as we later find out, that they were devoid of concrete expectations when coming to Dubai.
As the lights came on, the drum and drone of their sounds still resonated in and out of souls craving for more. People were lingering around the Munich brothers seeking more of that human touch, the touch that already teased them and us through the magical vibes that the bros radiated throughout the night. We find ourselves in the midst of a conversation exchanged here and there, rejecting insistent invitations from strangers, avoiding the spilling of vodka and immersing in more light-hearted banter. After a fifteen minute debate and a 3am check in, we find ourselves crossing the grand, black and dry streets of the city heading to an after party. It is messy and reminds us of our youth sweating between each plastic cup of tequila. So we find a corner on the balcony dimly lit by the streetlights radiating from thirty or so floors below and conversation ensues - life, love, lust and laughs. After the check in and the after party, the sun is rising and we are heading home.
We spend the next day driving around cruising between stories of the past in cities we love, books we read, cultures we embraced and experiences we dejected. It is New York City where one feels at home and free from judgement. It is Murakami’s raining sardines from the sky that can make one find peace with the turn of each page. It is the Balkan cuisine that is richer than the Bavarian’s. It is the experience of being booed whilst playing on the decks that is the painful yet essential experience in the journey of a DJ. It is a handful of various elements that inspire the Zenker Brothers in creating their sounds – travels, laughing on the couch with friends and any other certain favourable moments. We connect on a mutual obsession with Hip-Hop and Rap; Wu-Tang Clan, Gangstarr, Jeru The Damaja, Madlib and DJ Premier are some the names that were behind the brothers’ musical discovery and the beginning of their journey. On the commute and at almost any chance possible, they would plug in their earphones and jam to the beats and lyrics on their iPods.
Their code is ‘the human touch.’ A principle they stick by in all their endeavours, musical and otherwise. When playing a set, close to nothing is planned but rather, they improvise to follow the reactions and energy of the crowd. They describe how this touch in their sounds can be heard in the raw and fresh format that is neither perfect nor flawless but can at times incorporate ‘mistakes’ and a slip of the finger. Our crusading in and out of Dubai feeding the curiosity of both Marco and Dario continues. Kites are flying across a clear blue sky and feet are dipping in and out of the cold sea. A paradox seeps within each wave and in between the toes of black and white figures, legs exposed and hair sealed. Standing on the edge of the shore in the dim light of the sun, the brothers have lost their stance – they are completely captured and are staring into the horizon attempting to fathom this strange yet intriguing puzzling place with its security in juxtaposition to its absurdity. Yet it is the moments enwrapped with the human touch that knock off the insanity and alien feel of the city, and that keep us on the ground.
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Writer/Editor: @madradar
Photographer/Editor in chief: @nehmew
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