[engl] Even before they would become a disruptive force on the Dutch rock scene, with their albums Wil Met U Neuken and Moddergat, the still young members of It Dockumer Lokaeltsje were admirers of Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. In 1981 these Düsseldorf-based electro-punks created a stir with their acclaimed record Alles Ist Gut. In their best known track “Der Mussolini”, a massive alternative dance hit, Gabi Delgado-López en Robert Görl dared to provocatively link totalitarianism with Christianity. In 1987 lt Dockumer Lokaeltsje recorded a cover version of “Der Räuber Und Der Prinz”, the most tantalising gay ballad ever written. Now, three decades later, the band have put all 10 vintage DAF-tracks through the wringer. Lovingly and, of course, in the Frisian language. IDoL have created a rural microcosm – populated by reluctant ghost cows, wanton mummies and rattling skeletons – whereas DAF inhabits a darkly romantic, metropolitan universe. Bridging that gap – both thematically and musically – was the main challenge. Many hours were spent holding on to beats and grooves, in order to blend IDoL’s typically short and capricious song structures with DAF’s radical minimalism. Songs such as “Sato-Sato” (whose title remains a mystery, even in Frisian), “De Röver En De Prins” and “As Wie’t De Lêste Kear” don’t stray too far from DAF’s distinct bass lines and beats. Whereas “Der Mussolini” originally by DAF ran over de dancing crowd like a tank division, It Dockumer Lokaeltsje’s steam train drivers have opted for a more rolling shuffle feel. “Myn Hert Dat Slacht” starts with an intro the band members found lying around in their rehearsal room, before settling into the compelling cadence they heard in “Mein Herz Macht Burn”. Delgado’s rhythmical singing on “lch Und Die Wirklichkeit” inspired IDoL to interpret their version as a tango. Which stays in time for a full two minutes, before complety collapsing in classic Lokaeltsje style.

[engl] Between 1985 and 1990, It Dockumer Lokaeltsje left a trail of happy confusion everywhere they went, with their whimsical, jittery songs about spooks, cows, mummies and trains. After the albums Wil Met U Neuken and Moddergat and the CD compilation It Dockumer Totaeltsje, the band took a well-earned holiday. During the absence of the trio from Leeuwarden, the microcosm that they had spawned quietly continued to grow. New characters, some dead and some alive, took up residence in the Frisian ghost village where “de Deale” (the Evil One) is feared and where the village pub stands in the middle of the graveyard, for the sake of convenience. The imperative to report on these new developments within this little world manifested itself within the band members in the way that thunder announces itself: at first with an apologetic subterranean rumble, to be followed by the brash inevitability of thunder, lightning, gathering winds and lashings of rain. This is why the album that is to be released in October is called Tonger: The Frisian word for both thunder and lightning. The music magazine Vinyl once called It Dockumer Lokaeltsje the Chroniclers of Weird Frisian Life. On Tonger, the band chronicle away lustily, while within eighteen new songs new little musical avenues are explored, branching left and right. David Thomas of Pere Ubu used to document his home region around Cleveland, Ohio by taking on the role of various characters in his songs. In the same way, we can lend our ear to the outpourings of a gamut of different characters in the songs of It Dockumer Lokaeltsje. The old school punk song “De Leafde” presents us with a primal reaction to an unrequited rural romance. “Armaggeddon Hoptille” tips its hat to New York No Wave in the form of a breathless narrative about an irreversibly upturned sheep. And while “Kettinggang” invokes a Jamaican chaingang song in the Nick Cave tradition, “De Komeet Fan Strikwerda” concerns itself with a group of suspicious villagers who gossip about and pour scorn on the scientific discoveries of a wilful fellow villager.