Tender Ender releases Black Swan

Just before the end – and the moment after. An entire film between just two clock bars: opulent, cynical, soothing. Music that seems to have fallen out of time and found no place anywhere: not in the present, not in the past and certainly not in the future.

The eponymous Black Swan: a freak of nature, an anomaly, a happy accident. Possibly – but it’s not exactly a bearer of good news. As dire as the prophecy may be, the way out is lavishly decorated. The sky may be dark, but it’s filled with violins and a glowing singer – a crooner, even – who doesn’t feel dim at all. This is doomsday pop: always pretty, and always pretty close to the edge. You begin to feel cozy, precisely because you know this fever dream won’t last. The closing song reveals: “If you won’t wake, you will sleep forever.” It sounds obvious, yet leaves you wondering: where do I wake – and do I sleep at all?

Tender Ender marks Thomas Schmidiger’s start as a solo musician. After years of detours and discovery, he is starting all over again – going back to what inspired him in the first place: his love for the piano, for Elton John and an affection for strong melodies. This would result in quite a jolly ride, if not for the three decades in between that might have slightly stained the picturesque world of the shy boy. While this blemish is on its way to being accepted, it is not exactly digested yet. Things are unhinged, nicely put.

And that’s what Tender Ender’s Doomsday Pop is about: putting fucked-up things very nicely, for everyone to swallow painlessly.