Philipp Poisel — Projekt Seerosenteich

Sometimes, it takes surprisingly little to give you goosebumps. A voice, a piano, a few strings — and above all, someone who makes you feel they are telling a story just for you.

For me, Philipp Poisel is a little like a German RY X. Musically, they come from different directions, but both can do something that is not at all easy: do very little and make you feel a great deal.

My album of the week this time is therefore a live album: Projekt Seerosenteich by Philipp Poisel, released on 17 August 2012.

An unmistakable voice

Poisel’s story somehow fits his music. He received his first guitar at nine, sang in a choir — and was certainly told there that singing might not be his greatest strength. Later, he wanted to study music to become a teacher and failed the entrance examination. He then worked as a street musician, among other things, until Herbert Grönemeyer noticed him and signed him to his label, Grönland.

That this unmistakable, sometimes fragile and slightly mumbled voice would later become his trademark is one of the lovely ironies of his story.

Becoming smaller again

Projekt Seerosenteich emerged at an interesting point. Poisel was already successful, the venues were growing larger — and that created a problem: his quietest songs risked getting lost in those big spaces. He described Seerosenteich in particular as a little treasure that no longer worked properly at large concerts.

His answer was not to get even bigger, but to become smaller again.

His songs were rearranged for the Seerosenteich tour. An old piano, strings, harmonium, acoustic instruments, timpani and, on some pieces, Alin Coen as an additional voice. Initially, Poisel had wanted to work only with guitar and strings. Then he realised that several hours of exclusively quiet music might be a little too much of a good thing.

For me, that is precisely what makes this record special: it is stripped back, but never small.

Songs such as Eiserner Steg, Wo fängt dein Himmel an? and Bis nach Toulouse gain space live. Some versions become considerably longer than their studio counterparts. Poisel does not have to hurry towards the next chorus. He leaves pauses in place, changes the dynamics and sometimes lets his voice almost break. The audience is there — but surprisingly often, what you hear above all is quiet.

A lovely little story fits perfectly: Froh dabei zu sein was played completely unamplified on the tour. That is why it ultimately did not make it onto the live album. It is hard to imagine a more consistent way of carrying a concert’s idea through.

What this record brings out

That is also why I like his lyrics. Poisel does not tell wildly complicated stories. They are about love, longing, leaving, returning and simply wanting someone by your side. But he tells them so directly that a simple sentence can suddenly have more impact than an intricately constructed metaphor.

Perhaps that is the secret of this record: it does not constantly try to give you goosebumps. And that is exactly why it does.

Poisel later described Projekt Seerosenteich, in essence, as a kind of best-of. Not because the familiar songs were simply lined up again. The songs were already written — which meant he could concentrate entirely on what else lay within them.

You can hear that.

What remains with me

My goosebumps moment

And finally, my personal favourite: Ich will nur. Put on headphones, find a little quiet and feel free to turn it up a bit. If, at some point, you find yourself with tears in your eyes, you will know how I feel.