Suzan Köcher’s Suprafon release their third studio album — a work exploring the tragedy of the present, personal fears, self-discovery, and social rifts. But are we just going to give in to despair now?
“In These Dying Times” is the title of the third album by the German-Turkish singer and her band Suzan Köcher’s Suprafon, released on October 11, 2024, by Unique Records. “I started writing songs when I was 14 because I was afraid to talk about things and feared rejection. Music was my way of expressing what I felt“ recalls the 29-year-old.
It’s been five years since their last album — a period during which the band played live shows (including WDR Rockpalast), wrote new songs and reformed. Köcher used this time to work on herself as well: “When my music became more public, I made my lyrics a little more cryptic because I was afraid of what people might think of me. Through therapy, I learned to let go of my fears to some extent and started writing more personal songs. It’s like a kind of superpower that you get when you manage to let go of fears.”
Her single “Seventeen” touches on unrequited love, insecurity, and the abuse of power during teenage years—experiences that resonate with many young women. “At the end of the day, I’m not alone with these experiences, and above all, I want to encourage other women that you can grow through such experiences.” The legendary Klaus Fiehe praised the song’s attention to detail on his 1LIVE radio show, describing “Seventeen” as one of the band’s best tracks.
The new album, recorded at Maarweg Studios, captures the current unrest and events in world history. “In These Dying Times” reflects on the tragedy of the present, feelings of powerlessness, and the ever-growing divisions in society. Despite looking into the future and the past, the album remains deeply personal. “I don’t think I’ve ever put as much energy, sweat, and tears into music as I have into this album. At the same time, however, I’ve never been so satisfied with my music because I was actually able to realize my visions,” Köcher shares about the creative process. “I felt a lot of pressure, but on the other hand, for the first time, I had the knowledge and the opportunity to fully express myself artistically.”
Köcher and her band once again demonstrate their extraordinary ability to craft catchy melodies that exude both melancholy and warmth. Dream pop and psychedelia blend with driving disco moments, creating a colorful yet shaded kaleidoscope in the album’s overall sound. “In These Dying Times” is also a call — or more precisely, an invitation — to grow in these challenging times, to lead a conscious, self-determined life, and not to succumb to negativity, depression, or world-weariness. The songs intentionally embrace contrasts.
The album’s lyrics address urgent contemporary issues, creating a unique musical language. The quartet, led by singer and multi-instrumentalist Suzan Köcher, has evolved both artistically and thematically. Social changes, mental health, feminism, and self-discovery all influence the new tracks, which encapsulate the experiences of Köcher and her circle in recent years. It’s about self-empowerment and self-forgiveness, but also about escapism, facing fears, and overcoming them.
On this album, Suzan Köcher’s Suprafon becomes political for the first time, taking a clear stand against war and the structures built on lies and hatred. The title track, “In These Dying Times” addresses the division of society and the dangerous forces driving us apart until we face each other as enemies. “Do you think you can tell the truth from the lies?” The song highlights the wars and climate crisis that have split us into divided camps, though it should be more about solidarity and unity. Musically, the track is characterized by Köcher’s catchy synthesizers, which range from poppy to wild while maintaining their melodic essence.
“Maybe I’m A Lemon” is a metaphorical exploration of identity — a journey of self-discovery translated into fruit: “kinda bitter, kinda sweet – little bits of me get stuck between your teeth. Köcher drives the band with a crunchy twang guitar in the chorus, while her rough bass synth takes the lead in the disco-esque instrumental section.
“Sleepless Strangers” is a shadowy fantasy at the intersection of dream pop and ’60s influences, avoiding retromania. Inspired by Godard’s “Alphaville” and the elegance of Françoise Hardy, the piece serves as the soundtrack to a film that played out in Köcher’s head. The accompanying video, shot by Köcher herself using her childhood video camera, immortalizes her visions in kaleidoscopic images, inviting viewers to immerse themselves in a cinematic experience.
The driving “Living In A Bad Place” addresses depression, where shadows constantly follow you, ready to catch up at any moment. “And around the corner there’s a chance you might get somewhere – but you better run fast.” Despite its dark lyrics, penned by Irish poet Michael Cummins, the music contrasts with a powerful, danceable disco beat that dissolves into psychedelic instrumental passages, allowing listeners to lose themselves and process what has just been conveyed. Towards the end, all the despair culminates in a melodic finale. This dialectic of heavy themes and musical lightness, without descending into banality, is a strength of Köcher and her band, which is showcased in this song.
“The Trip” opens the B-Side of the record, led by Köcher’s distorted rhythm guitar, with Julian Müller’s melodic lead and slide guitars, Janis Rosanka’s winding bass, and Dale Lohse’s stoic drums layered over three mantra-like chords. Suzan’s ethereal vocals float above it all, accompanied by nocturnal Mellotron brass, making this perhaps the darkest and most psychedelic piece on the record. “The devil came to see, he looked a lot like me – our boat was sinking down.”
In “Camera” and “Falling For Autumn” Köcher reflects on the melancholy of transience and the question of what we can hold on to in life or what we must let go of. The synthesizer melodies of the Roland Juno 106 and Korg MS10 merge with Müller’s shimmering guitar work, who, as the album’s producer, shapes the sound in tandem with Köcher. “We hold on to memories, passing moments a reality,” Köcher sings in “Camera,” and “I’m falling for autumn as leaves lose their green,” while the music weaves together Indie and Dream Pop.
Finally, the nearly 10-minute “Desert Air Motel” recounts a journey through small, half abandoned towns in the Texas desert, following the band’s performances at the SXSW Festival in Austin. This track ties in with themes from their previous album. The band’s love for improvisation, celebrated in their numerous live shows, is fully expressed here. Michael Patrick St. Claire, who contributed trumpet on one track from the previous album, returns to play a precise Mariachi-like melody and an improvised, self-dueling jazz solo that gives the song an unexpected, unplanned tone. The band plays a minimalistic Kraut-Beat, with the trumpets eventually giving way to echoing synths, accompanied by spherical Mellotron strings, chimes, gongs, and a pulsating Moog bass. The track culminates in a Krautrock finale, capturing the hypnotic energy of the band’s live performances.
“In These Dying Times” blends the melodiousness of their first album “Moon Bordeaux” with the experimental courage of their second album „Suprafon”, while incorporating new influences and themes. It marks a new chapter for Köcher, showcasing her as a matured artist unafraid to reveal her personal, vulnerable side and share it with her listeners. “Perhaps people will find themselves in my experiences in one form or another“, Köcher hopes. The “future grand dame of psychedelic chanson” (NBHAP) is back, stronger, more present, and more personal than ever before.