Cover Story Moderat “We are touring professionals,” adds Gernot. “We toured as Modeselektor and Apparat before and during Moderat, and we know all forms of touring: as a band, as DJs with USB sticks, on buses, trains, planes, jets and boats. We haven’t had a helicopter yet,” he laughs. “When we get home the mode switches instantly because our kids take over, and they aren’t interested in what happened at Fabric, for example. Switching modes quickly is actually quite nice.” Szary agrees: “When I get home the first thing I do is I make myself some coffee. Then I go outside, drink it, and smoke a cigarette. Then I say, ‘Kids, come over, sit down on my lap, because Papi would like to explain to you what he has experienced.’ And after that, it is back to normal: clearing out the dishwasher…” In addition to giving them plenty to tell their children about when they return home, Tourlaub allows them to escape the routines of work, the record label, studio and family time, to travel with friends. And like friends, they listen carefully when any of the crew members have personal matters to talk about. “We are dependent on the crew,” Gernot explains. “They have to give 110% so we can deliver 120%. Trust and being nice to each other is essential.” “There’s no one in our crew who is just a worker,” Sascha adds. “They are all people we have known for ages. Most of them are part of the crew for exactly that reason. We grew together. We rarely have changes within the crew, and that’s important.” From the production manager to the technicians, the crew work with the kind of intimacy that comes from years of knowing each other. And Moderat is the fulcrum, the three characters creating the kind of balance needed to get through such punishing tour schedules. Sascha is the contemplative maverick who maintains the overview of production plans and costs. Szary pursues new interests and broadens his knowledge over coffee and cigarettes. His interest in foreign climes has made him the socalled travel minister, checking routes and researching hotels for the band. Then there’s Gernot, the cheeky, bright-eyed joker, who listens carefully and is able to parse out solutions to whichever obstacles present themselves. His demeanour and outgoing nature make him the perfect candidate for handling press and communication. Maintaining a jovial spirit isn’t always easy. Back on the bus, the clock reads half-past-midnight, and Sascha looks uneasy. “I’m really worried that I won’t get enough sleep,” he announces, sitting at the small table on the lower deck of the double-decker bus, a white nightliner with tinted windows. Christoph, the lighting technician, points silently towards a bottle of whiskey, but Sascha leaves the bottle untouched and goes to bed in the tiny bunk that’s only just long enough for his tall frame. He closes the curtain behind him with a bright ‘shink!’, the heavy piece of fabric creating something close to privacy. Sascha doesn’t like touring on buses. “I don’t sleep very well on them,” he mutters, from within his ersatz sanctuary. The next morning, we cross the Belgian border. Szary and Sascha are still sleeping, but Gernot is already on the task at hand, discussing the gig, now mere “WE STILL GET VERY EUPHORIC ABOUT OUR JOB ON STAGE. IT STILL GIVES US A HUGE KICK.” 22 <strong>Issue</strong> <strong>Four</strong>
Moderat Cover Story Summer 2017 23