In the HEARTBREAKERS series, we look at the dance floor tearjerkers that make your night special, whether that's at the height of your high or the plateau. Electronic music has the power to break hearts and this is an appreciation of those songs. This time it's the turn of rising Dane producer, Kasper Bjørke - whose Nicholas Jarr-endorsed brand of gossamer-light forlorn-a-tronica is for all you meloncholy misfits out there.
Rufus Wainwright - "Tiergarten (SuperMayer Lost In The Tiergarten Remix)":
"Won't you walk me through the Tiergarten? Won't you walk me through it all, darling? Doesn't matter if it is raining"
And so it begins, one of my favorite club anthems of the 2000s.
2007 was a crazy year for me personally. I was partying a lot. It was the same year that I released my own first solo album - and I was having a blast. After a bad breakup, I was going out as much as possible. I was also Djing as many gigs as I could get and the Copenhagen scene at the time was in this sort of happy vacuum after the new rave sound had blown over. House music made its return to dance floors. It was all about organic sounds again. It was really a revelation, both for the club kids and also the DJs. All the noise was gone and it was all about warm sounds again. It was so relieving to listen to music that had vocals and maybe even a hidden message besides getting wasted.
It's Supermayer's remix that stands out to me from that period, because it was a perfect combination of a beautiful, original composition - one which could never belong in a club in its original form - being transformed and adapted to the dance floor by two of my favorite producers of all time to became a real club anthem. That's the true art of the remix, which actually rarely happens. Michael Mayer and Superpitcher both have a distinct sound in their own right as producers – and together as dynamic duo Supermayer, managed to melt that song down into this lovely confection of organic techno; a style that I have been particularly attracted to and have been supporting in my DJ sets throughout my own career.
I don't know how many times I played this track since its release in 2007 and I haven't really played it out in the last few years, but a lot of memories are evoked when I think of it. Memories about a certain, not innocent, but maybe simple era in both the Copenhagen nightlife at the time and in my life. I made a lot of friends during that time, and there was a lot of, well, girls. For me, that whole period around the time this record came out, it was all about going out. The track was like the centre around which my whole social life revolved. During the week I was recovering and preparing for the next weekend. Just listening to new music, preparing sets, making remixes, re-edits and so on.
I think the first time I heard Supermayer's remix it was someone else playing it before or after me, and I was like "What is THIS???!" The beginning of the track with the original bells and the haunting vocals of Rufus Wainwright totally changed the mood on the dancefloor. It made people listen and it made time stand still. The thunder and rain in the breakdown can feel somewhat out of place when listening to it at home - but on a big system those are quite powerful effects to use.
I immediately trainspotted the track and got my hands on it the next day. And I had it with me in my sets for a long time after that. I vividly remember playing it on New Years Eve, in Berlin. There was this whole gang of Copenhagen party people who went to Berlin to rave through New Year's Eve night and right through to the next day. I remember being invited to dinner at Peaches apartment with this group of Danish lesbians, before going to the club – and dropping this track at around 9am in the morning felt again like a revelation; like pure romance. It felt like all the pieces of my life had come together. I felt like I was in exactly the right spot at the right time.
I had a lot of similar experiences that year and the years proceeding it. It took a while until I realised that it was propably also the alcohol that made me feel that way, but that's not the point. The point is that this song turned out to be the soundtrack to my life that year and also a moment in time for a Copenhagen club scene that would soon end and never quite find itself again.