At The Heart of a Musical Hysteria

In the vicinity of the Arena in Geneva, tents show of the fever which accompanies the event. Around this arena, camping, in the midst of tar and concrete, has emerged. This hall greets Tokio Hotel's most daring fans, those who have traveled hundreds of kilometers to see the German band. The wait is exhausting, but the reward is worth the sacrifice: seeing the continent's idols closely. This scenario has been repeating itself in Europe for nearly two years. Such concerts create an earthquake of such magnitude that no other band in the world today is capable of producing. They race through ticket sales, accompanied by anxiety in the parents of those children who are desperate to attend the event.

With Tokio Hotel, we are seeing the same enthusiasm which accompanied careers of bands like Duran Duran, or Spandau Ballet in the 80s. We find the same fever that gave rise to songs from boy and girl bands (Take That, 2Be3, Spice Girls...) a decade later. But today, there is something new. We see a rupture which dissociates Tokio Hotel from other known phenomenons. The band has managed to generate a flood, of a continental scale, in one language: German, which we had formerly considered inappropriate for rock and pop. This could have, even should have, set up a solid barrier to the exporting group. But inexplicably, this "disability" became an asset. The texts of two albums (Schrei and Zimmer 483) are known, translated and published on numerous sites and fan blogs. They are included in choirs in Helsinki, Madrid, Rome, Bratislava, and all the way to Tel Aviv.

But there is more: the look of the quartet. Tokio Hotel has made a brand image. Their recipe? Replicating several dress codes. In this patchwork, the androgynous figure and manga singer, Bill Kaulitz draws attention at first glance. His hair arched out (perhaps extensions?), his pale complexion, his tight and black clothes, his makeup, refer to some new wave and gothic icons. Rober Smith from the Cure, Brian Molko from Placebo in particular. Beside him, there is Tom aesthetic rasta (abundant dreads) and hip-hop (baggy jeans and XXL T-shirts, caps, bandannas and neck chains). Hardcore is represented by the bassist, Georg Listing. Only the drummer, Gustav Schafer eludes easy identification, wearing an obstinate "no-look."

This assembly is not risky. It is very likely that their record label, Universal, and agents of the band - some not exceeding 20 years of age - advise them. The rock, with well-arranged melodies and remarkably produced sound, aims to keep the target audience whose average age ranges between 10 an 16. This recipe pays. The conquest of the North American market will doubtlessly bring more new revenue.

Who is Tokio Hotel then? A product of some laboratory recordings? An entity born from artificial mixtures of musical examples? Partly, no doubt. But a significant portion of its course makes you think otherwise. Bill and Tom's passion with music dates from when they were little. Ever since the age of 7, the twins compose, write lyrics about their parent's divorce and life. They talk of the boredom of a youth who doesn't aspire in school. At Loitsche, village of Magdeburg where they grew up, these two songs of a seamstress and guitarist quickly dreamed of glory.

Bill brushed by it (fame) for the first time when he was 13: he was finalist for the German version of Star Academy or American Idol. A producer, Peter Hoffman was struck by the maturity and look of the teen on the stage. This meeting was decisive. It allowed the loser of the reality TV show to undertake the path of real glory, with his band, Devilish, composed of several school buddies. A changing of name later, Tokio Hotel now has a solid structure and professionalism to reach the firmament. This will be done from the very first album release, Schrei, in 2006. With Schrei, Tokio Hotel was a hit and "Durch den Monsun" traveled borders. A year later, the phenomenon took on enormous proportions with Zimmer 483: sales increased and mobile ring tones were made.

Such a course is rare. Only an operation of the singer's vocal chords was able to interrupt it. The enormity of their success, the magnitude of their tours and promotional obligations that accompany them, can cause concern. Overwhelmed by the tidal wave which he has provoked, Bill resigns: "We have no explanation, so we have stopped asking ourselves questions about it."

(source: letemps.ch)