In the artist's words:

Five guys, too many instruments and honest stories in Bavarian slang. Stories like pictures of childhood, women, beer and vegetable broth, of emancipation and setting off into the unknown. There are songs that give the whole fucking world the middle finger, others that embrace it with a shoulder-shrugging "Jamei!". And above it all, the sound of the gentle breeze of the quietly chirping, rustling, endless Upper Palatinate hinterland. In their attempt to capture the world in music, the "adversaries of all songwriters" prefer to elude categorical classification and maneuver between folk, rock and jazz, between hip-hop and classical music in an unbridled freedom that somehow sends 60s woodstock vibes wafting through the pituitary lobe.