On his latest project, Berlin-based singer SCHRAMM gives listeners a candid post-punk guide on how to fail at love. The EP’s seven songs are unsettling yet comforting as he blends heavy vocals and often depressing lyrics with shimmering synth. SCHRAMM has become increasingly popular on the Neue Deutsche Welle scene, where West German rock meets British and American post-punk and new wave—although he admits that his music is “not very Deutsch,” as most tracks are written in English to align with these influences.
Opening How to fail at Love is the riotous “Fail at Love,” a dynamic explosion of energetic beats paired with futuristic yet gritty synth and muffled vocals. This provides an angsty introduction into SCHRAMM’s struggles with ineffectual relationships, fading seamlessly from loud to quiet to loud again as he grapples with the frustrations of caring yet still failing. “I’d love to stay another night but all things come to an end,” he addresses listeners halfway through, shedding layers of instrumentals in favor of more direct vulnerability before plunging back into an agitated, pounding bassline. These dynamic juxtapositions suggest that SCHRAMM is toying with the possibility of explicitly baring his soul to listeners, but ultimately settles on giving us just a glimpse into his true feelings—to get deeper, we have to keep listening.
Shifting into lighter sonic territory, “Thank You” weaves an 80s-esque synth with distorted vocals to create a more mellow sound. “I never had a chance to say thank you,” SCHRAMM repeats throughout the song, ruminating on the ending of a previous relationship. However, a sense of defiance is woven into the lyrics: “I got a bandaid and I keep it on / I got a headache so I sing my song.” Listeners are sure to relate to SCHRAMM’s appreciation for music as a metaphorical bandaid, offering comfort or escapism when your mind wanders down more painful paths.
Bright 80s synth flows straight into “summerrain,” with an irresistibly upbeat introduction reminiscent of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven.” SCRHAMM’s heavier vocals provide the perfect contrast, retaining the experimental post-punk influences that characterized much of his earlier work, including “Off without me” and “I died when you asked me to go out” from his first EP I made this for myself (I didn’t make it for you). After the first chorus, “summerrain” slips back into catchy synth instrumentals. Their new wave peppiness juxtaposes the more pensive lyrics. “It might be rotten inside / You’ve just forgotten with time / It might be rotten inside / She’s taking a bite,” SCHRAMM sings with vehement emotion, perhaps alluding to himself or their relationship being rotten as a former partner re-enters his life.
Indeed, “sunburned/goodbye” soon brings us back to the darker, moodier side of How to fail at Love as SCHRAMM shows off soft, plaintive vocals against steady drums. Carefully crafted lyrics convey a sense of stifling despair as he describes the jarring sensation of waking up sunburned and still high—perhaps a literal sunburn that makes your skin uncomfortably tight after staying in the sun for too long, or maybe a metaphorical take on staying in a relationship for too long: “I’ll say everything but not goodbye,” SCHRAMM insists to listeners, reluctant to let go. The final minute of the “sunburned/goodbye” is swallowed by layered, thumping instrumentals, gradually slowing down as SCHRAMM’s warped vocals fade back in once more, clinging on to the track like he did to his previous relationship.
Picking the pace up again, “graublau” (gray-blue) is the first German song in the collection, documenting intimate nights involving “a lot of talking and a lot of smoking.” “Ich such’ das Weite sobald es nah wird,” SCHRAMM admits with raw vocals, translating loosely to “I look for space / distance as soon as it gets close.” Singing in his mother tongue could allow him to be more upfront as he shies away from commitment, with personal lyrics tempered by soaring synth sounds and an infectious beat, adding a seductive groove to the track.
Pulsating rhythms flow into “Vertraut,” where SCHRAMM creates an intoxicating balance between euphoria and melancholia as vibrant synths juxtapose intense lyrics depicting attraction bordering on obsession. A key change in the second half of the song further escalates his newfound carefreeness or perhaps carelessness: “Will hier raus / Doch ich bleib solang Du bliebst / Ich bin verliebt und habe Zeit,” he sings feistily, translating to “Want to get out of here / But I’ll stay as long as you stay / I’m in love and I have time.” This is another German track, but English lyrics are unexpectedly sprinkled in towards the end, having a somewhat disorienting effect on listeners—this reflects SCHRAMM’s hazy experience enduring a sweaty, thumping house party to spend more time with a certain person.
These feelings of devotion continue into the final song, “Infected,” another fusion of English and German packed with honest lyricism: “I’m infected by your love / and I couldn’t care to find a cure,” SCHRAMM surrenders to the addictive, visceral kind of love alluded to on “Vertraut,” enhanced by catchy synth-driven beats and fervent vocals. Closing How to fail at Love, “Infected” ends abruptly, leaving us wondering whether SCHRAMM’s latest romance will be another short-lived period of infatuation or, at last, a lesson on how to succeed at love instead. Either way, SCHRAMM has successfully created an EP that documents messy firsthand experiences stitched together with thoughtfulness, care, and plenty of sonic range.
