Freaks

To escape the dreary mediocrity of their small town, five bizarre outsiders form a band. It is clear to them: fame is certain. Now the rest of the world must take care of it. A pop grotesque about sensitive lunatics and rejected dreamers.

On the phone now, exclusively for the Schauspielhaus Bochum, Luster Johnson, the lead singer of the –

Luster Johnson: Our name is Freaks! The Freaks!

Dramaturgy Department: - that's right, The Freaks. Welcome!

L. J.: My name is Luster Johnson, and I'm great!

D.: ... Yes! I'm glad you have the time for us. Tell us: Who are The Freaks?

L. J.: The Freaks are power pop new wave heavy metal punk rock! An 80-year-old, nymphomaniac guitarist. An eight-year-old bassist with violent fantasies who is difficult to educate. An 18-year-old satanist pastor's daughter stripper on the drums. An amazingly feminine Iraqi ex-military man on keys. And Luster. Well, me. We're going to embark on a rock odyssey of biblical proportions.

D.: Sounds ambitious. Songs like Classroom Assroom and Squirrely Girl are catchy. Who writes your lyrics?

L. J.: Luster. Well, me. I believe that my shrill uniqueness is a virtue that allows me to slip through the gap.

D.: Ah, what gap?

L. J.: Behind which crouches fame. Which the humanoids cannot achieve. After all, the humanoids are attached to each other with invisible wires attached to their brains. I cut my wire.

D.: You cut your wire?

L. J.: Unlike you. You're some face in the crowd. You're the cop in the China shop. You're completely programmed. You are an open book that can be read in one go.

D.: Because we are talking about reading: You –

L. J.: – can go fuck yourself. Aloha cocoa I'm going to get the skirt rolling now, to shake off this nightmare called everyday life.