Balm

Intensity does not arise from volume alone, but just as much from the charged tensions that open up between bars and notes. These are precisely the spaces created by Berlin trio Balm: places where opposites are not merely tolerated, but consciously invited into being.

Long, stretched-out textures are ruptured by clipped rhythms; delicate whispered vocals seem on the verge of dissolving into the ever-present melancholy. Then suddenly everything collapses in on itself, leaving only a grooving bass line behind – until dreamlike melodies return.

Live, Balm are especially compelling through their constant movement. The members continuously switch instruments, following the demands of each individual song. Their understated post-punk feels resistant and inviting at the same time, intimate and distant. From these tensions emerges an almost ghostly atmosphere – as if you had to decide whether to dissolve completely or drift weightlessly through darkened streets. This music allows for both.