Christof Spörk has already written many songs. And he can sing a song about what it is like to live in the most beautiful country of latent discontent, pardon, in the most discontented country of latent beauty. Others may sentimentalize home or love songs. Spörk has mostly crooned about noise barriers, industrial parks, or snow cannons. Always hoping that they might stop defacing the country because of his singing. Spörk's songs always love life, even when life is often loveless.
With “Maximo Lieder,” the PhD political scientist and proclaimed jazz singer Spörk returns to his roots. As early as 2001, he founded an Austro-Cuban project called “Maximo Lieder,” a musically satirical allusion to the rock star among strongmen, the – Karl Marx bless him! – long deceased “Máximo Líder” Fidel Castro. Back then, even ORF was convinced that the era of strong leaders and dictators was over. That’s why Karl Moik had to go. Paradise seemed near. But far from it. Shivering in astonishment, we are currently witnessing a renaissance of equally “strong” yet intellectually modest men, to whom you would actually be better off not trusting with a dog. By the way, most love their dog more than their country anyway. Not only dog owners feel like they're in the wrong century right now. The famous bird that every eligible voter is allowed to call their own is also dying many times over. Probably the food supply is not right. Too much of everything. Too little nourishing. Smartphones may be more convenient than newspapers. But birds, unlike Homo Sapiens, are reluctant to eat hot air or alternative facts. At least one kernel (truth) should always be present. With the birds now.
But please don’t worry: “Maximo Lieder” Spörk has no answers either. However, he might ask some right questions. Does world history belong to the species of ruminants? If so, are we, the history-writing humans, more like goats or sheep, as a leading world religion claims? Or: why do we care about kindergarten teachers being good people and throw the same at politicians? Why are assholes in male bodies admired as assertive? Yes, why do we allow ourselves to be led around day after day by outright idiots? Are we perhaps on a collective sales tour for AI? And why does a missing “i,” from the most beautiful of all arts, MUSIC, turn a spiritually neglected, bitterly poor multi-billionaire who thinks he has to save the world?