Four hands, two drums, one voice. This is Tom Waits with the mojo but without the booze. This is the ritual music of many archaic religions. But it's also quite sophisticated, with tempo changes, loud/quiet modulation, chinella crescendos and unexpected silences. Sometimes you feel reminded of incantations from forgotten times, sometimes the beats are surprisingly danceable. Fehr has developed as a vocalist and his lyrics, which he performs here mostly in English, can be conveyed internationally. The question of whether the focus is on the literature or the musical performance is moot. Fehr and Baumann have abandoned the dual system of either/or and rage with raw energy in both/and.

The text miniatures seem like abstract paintings of color, mood and skeletonized narration. They are stories that merge into their own sound until they suddenly disappear. They seem like the complex master trick of a skilled magician who presents himself to the audience with incredible ease.

The content has become even more existential. Fehr illuminates the spectrum of the all-too-human and the interpersonal with relish but precision: One roasts a cat that has strayed into his apartment. One shoots a full magazine from a machine gun through the window. There is looting, a bank robbery, murder, smoking and at some point a bottle of bourbon. Ultimately, however, it doesn't take that much in life, as is stated in But a Man Needs: A man needs a chair and a table and a plate and some boiled potatoes.