How many internationally influential pop acts has Germany thrown into the mix? Kraftwerk, of course, followed by Can and the other Krautrock pioneers - Neu! and Cluster, Tangerine Dream and Faust; after that, Einsturzende Neubauten, perhaps. And in the mid-1990s, Mouse on Mars joined this select group, quickly earning international recognition for their unique blend of concept, experiment and pop. Rare is the festival of electronic or independent music that hasn't welcomed them to the stage, and there are few producers of edgy, intelligent pop music who do not cite Mouse on Mars as a reference. They are feted as rock stars across Japan and North America, and for the past twenty years they have been packing clubs - and even classical concert halls in European metropolises.
Mouse on Mars are a musical phenomenon. After two decades of constant innovation and reinvention, they have lost none of their might and magic. And, just like jazz musicians, the duo seems to be getting ever more seasoned, savvy and uncompromising. The band’s anniversary release - a compilation celebrating 21 years of band history with a bit more than 21 collaborations - seems like a logical move. Open to outside influences from day one, Mouse on Mars’ music and approach anchors a surprinsingly malleable methodology to an unwavering vidon at the eye of the hurricane. The surface of pop music thrives on change, on constant renewal, and the Mouse on Mars phenomenon fuses this mutability with a myriad of voices caught in a proliferating web of dialogue. Dialogue with their audience, with their own musical roots – and dialogue within a complex web of interdisciplinary partnerships and relationships. In this framework, theory, sound research and deep, sensual experiences are no longer mutually exclusive. And at the heart of these oscillating force fields, Jan St. Werner and Andi Toma invariably remain themselves - curious, critical and even-keeled.