SCHUBLADE.  It's a big, ugly German word used by Mouse on Mars'
Andi Thorn to describe a big, ugly, worldwide phenomenon.  Schublade is
when The Man sticks you in a box and slaps a label on it. 

	As words go, it's a hell of a lot less demure than the dainty
"pigeonhole?" that I offer for translation purposes.  But the evil
Schublade has no effect on Mouse on Mars.  They're too busy running as
fast as they can away from it. 

	Andi and partner Jan St. Werner make compelling records that don't
fit anyone's schemes but their own. 

	After lurking for a while on the sidelines of the massive techno
scene engulfing Germany, including their hometowns of Dusseldorf (Jan) and
Cologne (Andi), they turned their backs on the Vaterland electromonster,
and hunkered down in their own bunker where they craft records more akin
to Seefeel than to Sven Vath. 

	"In Germany, people's tastes are rigid.  Because we're not making
straight techno, they're confused about what it is we actually do,"
explains Andi. 

	And what is that, exactly?  Well, Mouse on Mars use rubbishy lo-
fi equipment to distort clean, natural live sounds into a messy tangle.
They mix it with clear tones and send the whole shebang on its way with a
hypnotic, repetitive, but memorable keynote riff.  Listeners don't forget
this in a hurry. 

	The riff-nosis exists in their debut EP "Frosch" (got us talking),
their LP "Vulvaland" (fwoaar, but kept us listening), and here on TEX3's
track, "Maus Mobil" (zero to 60...eventually, like a bumper sticker on a
Mini). 

	Funny, that Mouse on Mars could have been just another couple of
fresh-faced lads driving a rickety synth down the Technobahn.  They have
all the credentials of people drawn to techno, trance, and ambient,
drifting up as they did from the subterranean world of production,
engineering, media music, and recording studios. 

	Meeting three years ago in one such den of knob-twiddling, Jan and
Andi (who gave up careers as a rock musician and as a rap producer
respectively) made music links for a German cable channel before saving up
enough dosh to run away together.  The working relationship is relaxed but
purposeful. 

	"We live 40 minutes apart by car.  When we meet to work, we drink a
cappucino and I show him what I've done, because the studio is in my
place.  Then I have another cappucino while he adds to it.  We don't spend
too much time, maybe a day, and don't discuss too much.  We just do it,
and I find that really exciting." 

	Andi laughs, in the same way as others who lead the life of Riley. 

	Although Mouse on Mars have all the usual credentials, three solid
facts separate them from the rest.  The first of these is Krautrock.  Andi
and Jan hold groups like Can, Neu, and the more electro tones of Kraftwerk
in the highest of esteem, and that affected their musical decisions. 

	"A lot of techno bands name these groups as influences, but maybe
they don't know Can or Neu as well as they might know Kraftwerk," Andi
says, almost too politely.  "Those bands influenced us to use "live"
instruments, like guitars, bass, and drums, either in a distorted way
whilst recording or straight from the instrument when we play live." 

	Secondly, the pair have already turned down a dubious pleasure:
"ambient stardom."  Andi claims Eye-Q wanted to sign Mouse on Mars, but
the pair smelled a rat. 

	"The label were stuck in a concept, and all the bands tended to
look the same.  We don't dislike ambient, but we wanted more freedom.
That's one reason we came to Britain and Too Pure." 

	A label known for introducing the world to bands like PJ Harvey
and Voodoo Queens, Too Pure moved into the trance sphere by signing
Seefeel, the mould-breaking ambient techno rockers now happily wibbling
away on Warp.  If Mouse on Mars claim affinity with anyone, it's Seefeel,
whose members brought Andi and Jan's sound to the attention of Too Pure. 

	"Originally we sent our tape to Seefeel, if only to let them know
that we were here too," says Andi.  "We were surprised and pleased when
Seefeel gave the tape to Too Pure.  Never, ever, did we think it would end
in the label taking us." 

	Surely this is false modesty?  Unlike a lot of trance artists, a
trance state is the last thing Andi enters when he talks about the music. 

	Not for him the ambiguities of mood and atmosphere.  Andi likens
the creative process to a feeling of action or activity, like building a
house. 

	"The only difference is that we are building from the inside out. 
We build surroundings where we can live, or where you'd like to. 

	"I know it sounds 'ambient' to say that, but if you don't build
your own surroundings, someone else will come along, build it for you, and
tell you that you must like it," Andi elaborates. 

	"Musically, that control is important.  After that, you can let it
go for others to consider and enjoy as well." 

	--Feature by Susan Corrigan, Trance Europe Express 3 booklet
	  (c) 1995, Trance Europe Express.