Ratatat are not a rock band. They use guitars and they do rock but they couldn't be more different from who is regularly drawing crowds in indie-biased Munich. The crowd at 59:1 sported the usual tight legs and slim scarves and were most probably looking forward to what Wikipedia titles "pathetisch-verträumter elektronischer Glamrock". However, Ratatat's electronic element never reaches the hyper-complexity and is never used as purposeful to build emotional dreamscapes as in the works of electronic scientists like The Notwist. ("Es war dieses weinerliche Zeug, das mir nie richtig gefallen hat." Evan Mast about Dashboard Confessional). Nor do Ratatat display any of the understatement so dearly cultivated by modern indie rock bands, with their melodies reflecting the humble background of gray British industrial towns. Ratatat's music is driven by nothing else than a fat, old hip-hop beat. Curiously, they are much closer to hip-hop than any other genre although their songs consistently lack any vocals. Their affinity towards hip-hop has actually long been obvious, at the latest when they put out their free mixtape where they beefed up tracks by Biggie Smalls or Missy Elliot with "a little" more beat and bassline. Why does all this matter? Because we will dance to hip-hop beats next summer instead of indie rock. Ratatat are rappers in disguise and invite their audience to wear big and baggy again on the dancefloor, at least figuratively. And because they themselves look like indie rockers, people trust them and increasingly accept the invitation. In fact, rumors are that already on a large scale, "common people" from NYC to Frisco are having secret hip-hop jams in their living rooms. And I remember the old-school-parties thrown by my homies, äh friends Beanie-David and Hip-Hop-Steffen having the highest dancers-to-attendees-ratio of all parties in Passau. And to be honest being the most fun of all. Word.
