The prologue to an idea
Sometimes a single line of text is enough, even if you don’t really know why it’s popping into your head right now. In my case, it was ‘I got 25 years’ from a song by the British band The Catch.
I remember exactly when and where I heard ‘25 Years’ for the first time: lying on the floor of my childhood bedroom, intently following the weekly charts on SWR radio, my finger poised on the record button of the cassette recorder, ready at any moment to press play and record when a long-awaited song came on. If I made a mistake, i.e. if I recorded a new song just to be on the safe side but it turned out not to be good enough, I would of course rewind immediately and erase every trace of disappointment.
‘25 Years’ made it onto the tape and also into my long-term pop memory. Don Snow’s shrill voice, the minimalist song structure – and those mystical 25 years that were being negotiated. It took me a while to figure out exactly what it was about, but that was part of the appeal… at its core, the song deals with the bitter realisation that there is no justice in life, that passion and hard work do not necessarily lead to recognition or appreciation.
„Don’t lock me in the darkness ’cause I just wanna go home (…) One last look at daylight, the sun won’t shine anymore (…) I found out I wasted so much time / Now I’m trying to wash away the tears (…) There’s nothing at the rainbow’s end / 25 years…“
‘25 Years’ was released at the height of synthpop and new wave – melancholic, disillusioned pop as a soundtrack to the reality of Thatcherism, unemployment and dwindling future prospects. Of course, as a teenager, I couldn’t really contextualise that – the perspective of a 25-year-old was a long way off for me. But the song’s melancholy stuck with me – for 41 years now.
And so the song reappeared on my lips: ‘25 Years!’ And suddenly there was the admittedly obvious idea that something had to be done – about the best albums of the first quarter-century.
So why not ask 25 authors about the albums that shaped this period for them? A crazy undertaking, of course: how could anyone decide? But that’s not the editorial team’s problem…
25 aus 2000-2025
Before we start with Linus Volkmann’s article on – as much can already be revealed from the chronology of the upcoming 25 texts – Schnipo Schranke and their album ‘Satt’, here’s a quick run-through of the years 2000 to 2025 – for anyone who hasn’t been professionally or obsessively involved with music. After all, we don’t want to leave anyone out in these cold times.
2000 to 2025 was, in a nutshell, a period marked by escapism, crises and retromania. Certainly not the years in which new genres such as techno, indie rock or drum “n” bass were invented – but the years in which pop had to reposition itself, and definitely not as bad as many people want to make it out to be when comparing it to the 70s, 80s and 90s.
The millennium rush (keywords: Y2K aesthetics, pop euphoria from Britney Spears to Daft Punk) was quickly followed by disillusionment: 9/11, the financial crisis, climate catastrophe, authoritarian politics. Music became more global on the one hand, but also more fragmented and generally more difficult to grasp as a whole.
The noughties were marked by indie, electro and minimal revivals (The Strokes, LCD Soundsystem, Justice, Bar-25). At the same time, MP3, Napster and later iTunes/YouTube changed the rules of the game: music was devalued economically and symbolically. Pop was suddenly endlessly available – and thus lost its mystical appeal.
In the 2010s, retromania (Simon Reynolds) came back with a vengeance: 80s synthwave, 90s techno, 00s indie. At least for those who still knew how to read the signs, because at the same time, algorithmically optimised playlist culture took over: ‘Chill’, “Workout”, ‘Focus’ instead of albums. Pop became a mood machine. At the same time, global diversity exploded: K-pop, Afrobeats, reggaeton. The axes of power shifted – albeit not radically enough. And just when we were hoping that the shift would finally take place, well, the pandemic came along and pressed all the stop buttons at once: clubs closed, festivals cancelled, music disappeared from public spaces, surviving in livestreams, Zoom raves, TikTok clips.
TikTok in particular: the MTV of today. Songs are broken down into fragments lasting seconds, memes determine careers. Hyperpop translated this digital fragmentation process most radically. Everyone listens to everything: chart pop, cloud rap, Afrobeats – the boundaries are blurring.
At the same time, there was a growing politicisation: queer club culture as a counter-concept to authoritarian forces, clear political positions against… well, against whom and what exactly, or rather for what? More and more often, the question arises: authentic or staged? And what remains when the masks are all down after the trench warfare, cancel culture and outcalling.
And so you sometimes find yourself asking: What am I actually doing here – after more than 35 years of music journalism? But you can’t get away from it. Listening to music, thinking about it and writing about it remains the most wonderful of all pursuits – a privilege. And bringing ideas and texts into context with artists and readers is a living utopia that you wouldn’t want to miss.
In this sense, ‘25 from 2000–2025’ is also a thank you from the 25 authors and the editorial team to an era that, in the face of adversity, has repeatedly given us tender (and sometimes less tender) moments of happiness, and to all the readers who accompany us on this journey.
From here on, we will gradually add the 25 albums, starting today with:
Linus Volkmann – Schnipo Schranke – „Satt“
