Berlin, Room 27

A new tenant lifts a loose floorboard in Room 27 of a Berlin boarding house and finds a biscuit tin: a brass key, a violin string, a scorched coat button, a chocolate wrapper tied with red thread, a hand-drawn map cut by one heavy line, a cassette addressed to Ankara, a club token, a chip of concrete dated 10 November 1989, a rent notice. Nine objects, nine people who slept in the same room across a century — and a note that says: leave something honest behind. The room is not haunted and the objects are not magic. The songs are imaginative reconstructions built on names, dates and municipal records. Uncertain fates stay uncertain. The production changes with the decades: Weimar cabaret, chamber noir, postwar jazz, cold wave, Anatolian art rock, post-punk, restrained electronica.

Human ideas and creative direction: Neuro Gramophone Music and visual production: AI-assisted