A debut in the clubs of Berlin, then the very lucky (for both parties) meeting with Modeselektor, passing through the soundtracks of films such as The fabulous young man And Capri Revolution. Sascha Ring, aka Apparat, has always expressed the desire (and even more evident: great ability) to renew himself.
The partnership with the queen of Berlin techno Ellen Allien, who had just moved to the German capital at the beginning of 2000, had opened a career (with the duo album Orchestra of Bubbles) which would then move along very different paths. From the experimental techno of the early works to the electronic art pop of the later ones, up to the incredible worldwide success of the trio formed with Gernot Bronsert and Sebastian Szary, Moderat.
In view of his return to Italy for the DJ set at the Letz Fest in Terni (from 29 to 31 August, with the line-up also featuring, among others, Il Quadro di Troisi, Whitemary and Bluem), we asked him what has happened in these years, between the pause (and then the restart) of the Moderat project and his new career in film soundtracking, between important changes and new perspectives both in music and (after becoming a father) in his private life.
What stage of life are you in? Do you feel more Sascha or more Apparat right now?
For now I feel 100% Sascha. I took a break after the end of the Moderat tour last winter. I would have stopped for the whole year, but after a while I felt the need to get back into the world. During Covid I learned that it's nice to allow yourself long breaks, but taking a long time away from real life creates too much of a contrast. I decided to do some DJ sets to go out and have some fun and yes, apart from that I am really Sascha. Apparat is currently on a break.
What kind of break?
Well, it sounds crazy just listening to me say it, but for 25 years I have never stopped, except for a few vacations. I have never stopped doing music-related things for a long time before. It seems like the best time to devote myself to other things in life, and that is what I am doing.
What has changed over all these years?
I would say the relationship with my creative blocks. It’s not obvious during the tours, but once I’m back in the studio I feel like I can’t do anything anymore. It’s happened to me several times, and yet it still seems like a “serious” thing. But you know, it’s also a romantic aspect: it gives you the desire to make music again. Maybe it’s a necessary feeling.
The end of one story is always the beginning of a new one.
Yes, exactly. But tell that to Sascha when he has his fits (laughs).
In between there was the five-year break of the Moderat project. How did you feel? And how was it to start again as a trio?
Today I can say that it was difficult and that it should have happened a little earlier. Many circumstances, including the pandemic, had an impact. I had become a father, while Gernot and Sebastian had other things to do. We were not 100% focused on making a new album and I think it was noticeable. That's why we can't stop now: I think we haven't reached our full potential yet. We need to get together as a band and rediscover the fun of being together in the studio, as three friends, closing the doors and not thinking about anything else. Only then could we write our best album yet. We will start working on it slowly towards the end of this year.
So can we expect new material soon?
Yes, although we don't necessarily want to make an album. When you sit down as a band and say, “OK, let's make new music,” it's a huge project that makes the approach less playful. It's really serious and long work, so this time we've made a list of things we don't want to do. One of them is meeting deadlines and external pressures on what needs to be done. We'll just go into the studio and have fun, like when we were younger.
In fact the sound of More D4ta (Moderat's latest album, released in 2022, ed.) seemed very dark, although well anchored to your style. Did you have a new kind of approach after the reunion?
No, not that new. Of course, you are always affected by circumstances and what is going on around you, and I especially had mixed feelings about the pandemic, since we started working on that album during that time. Being at home with a young child while the world around you goes crazy was claustrophobic. That feeling found its way into the music on the record, even if it wasn't intentional.
And yet in the end you have always remained very authentic, despite the fact that in contemporary club music, in electronic music or if you like, in electronic pop, the quality has dropped. How do you see it?
I think that after 30 years there is no real underground, as it was before: electronic music has become totally mainstream. When I say underground I don't mean the music, but the environment it penetrates, the reflection of its reality. Sure, that kind of club still exists, maybe in the suburbs, in some cities, but do they play completely different music compared to other places? I couldn't say. I don't think there is a real subculture anymore.
What do you think this evolution depended on?
Simply because there is a whole musical culture that continues to be interesting for many people, but that perhaps now tends to repeat itself by looking too much to the past. When it was born it was a phenomenon completely focused on innovation, precisely because, as happened with every musical genre – for example with rock music or with the Beatles phenomenon – it was something totally new. But in electronics the innovation was not only in the instruments: it consisted of a whole world of sounds that had never been heard before.
And will there still be room for innovation?
In a very, very limited way. At a certain point, as I was saying, everything has already been done and it starts to repeat itself. And after a while it becomes, I don't know, consolidated, in the sense that it's inevitably something already heard. There will be occasionally new or interesting things, but only because of very marginal details. There will be nothing completely experimental and shocking anymore. And I'm not so romantic about that anymore: I used to be very sad about the loss of the original spirit of the scene, about the fact that everything had become more and more a big business. But you know, we're not talking about something new and exciting anymore, there's no new kind of music. What happens to any kind of subculture has also happened to electronic music and that's okay, that's fine. At least it's giving a lot of people a good time.
In the latest interview here on Rolling you were actually talking about how LP5your last album as Apparat, had given you a chance to reflect on your love-hate relationship with techno. So in these years I don't think much has changed, from what you say.
Yes, I've been saying for almost 20 years that techno has become boring and I realize that I'm repeating myself, just like you (laughs). The only thing that's changed is that I stopped feeling like someone stole techno from me. First of all, it was never the my techno. And then a lot of people who are new to dance music, even now, still see it as something new. But in truth it's not about reinventing the wheel anymore and it bothers me a bit if someone claims that. When I do DJ sets, for example, I also play very well-known songs because I like them, then I can move on to very, very strange pieces. I used to think: I'll never play this song because it's too banal. Now it's not something I have to worry about anymore.
From this point of view, is there something new that you are trying to bring into your world? Both in Moderat and as a soloist, as Apparat.
I'm listening to music that I really like and that I'm sure will also influence the ideas of Moderat, especially to make our sound a little less dusty and maybe a little cleaner and more technological. I like that it can evolve like this. For Apparat, I will probably use more and more live recorded instruments. It's not just about the sound, it's about the relationship with the people. When I'm sitting alone, in front of a computer, I really miss it.
Did your experience writing soundtracks have a significant impact in this sense?
It depends on the type of project, there have been some challenging ones that have given me new ideas. But in general it's mostly about the interaction with the people you work with, about seeing things through their eyes. Over time I've lost a bit of interest in soundtracks because I've realized that most of the time it's really just a service. You're just a supplier, and today, for example for big companies like Amazon, you're also paid very little. So, in the end it's like a pseudo-capitalist art.
What alternatives did you have at that point?
Making my own music. And sometimes, if I meet the right person, the right director, or the right project, I’m happy to collaborate. But I have to see something interesting for me, not just money. It has to be something artistic and inspiring.
And did it happen to you?
Yes, for example for Capri Revolution Mario Martone's idea was to go all together to Cilento and I think it was fantastic. We were there for a month working on the music, sometimes together with the actors. We taught them to play simple instruments and then we did some sessions and recorded them. It was an interesting process working with non-musicians. It was more a question of empathy and establishing an authentic connection with the music. The result was really, really interesting. I'm not really a musician either, I don't have a great theoretical knowledge of music. Interesting and original things can happen when you work with people who don't look at things from a purely musical perspective.
Going back to the relationship between Sascha and Apparat, when do you think they will meet again?
Well, you know, even though I said at the beginning that I am clearly Sascha now, I think Sascha and Apparat have never been this close. In the beginning, in fact, I was almost completely Apparat, because at a certain point I was just looking for confirmation from people, playing concerts, seeing people screaming at my shows, things like that. It gave me a lot of security, which I clearly lacked at the time. It's narcissistic gratification, a form of self-confirmation that I needed. Because of this I became a little less Sascha. Now the two sides have made peace and I don't look for that confirmation anymore, I get it elsewhere. Or maybe I've had enough of it. It's a very positive thing, it also gives me a lot of artistic freedom, as well as new stimuli in life.
And then it's a mature relationship now, right?
Yes, I think so. But it took a long time. Being an unhappy teenager was in a way very important to me because it gave me the drive to prove to everyone that I could do something. I don’t think I’ve ever said this in an interview, only to a psychologist. Maybe it can be useful for someone to read it. A lot of people probably succeed as artists because they have exactly this drive: they want to prove something to the world. And most of them, including me, don’t know it. It’s not like I ever sat down and thought: “I’m going to be the best and greatest musician in the world.” I never even imagined that I could get on a stage. And somehow that was the driving force behind everything anyway, whether I knew it or not.
