Many of the casual conversations with strangers in clubs in Berlin end up at a common topic: Berlin is not the same anymore. Many ravers claim this is true, even extraordinarily young ones, with native Berliners often reminiscing on ‘the good old days’ with a nostalgic gaze and a hint of a smile.
In some cases, however, nostalgia is replaced by the excitement of having already found the next exciting techno scene in Germany -- Leipzig, which is only a 2-hour, 8-euro bus journey away from the capital city.
After spending a couple of years mulling over exploring Leipzig with friends, I finally took the bus there on September 30th, alone. I’m heading to meet Distillery resident Vincent Neumann, whom I’ve been following for a while. The lineup serves up the aural delicacies of Vincent Neumann, Dr Rubinstein and Blind Observatory. As I discussed with Vincent later on that night, the beauty of such a lineup is that each DJ has their own signature style of cutting-edge techno music.
Without any arrogance, Vincent agrees. He now knows he’s got good taste, or to be more accurate, that his music selection and the way he plays it deserves the respect and admiration of the people he respects and admires in the scene — what else can DJs aspire to? To bewitch the anonymous crowd, thus causing them to dance as if they were possessed by music?
“On a good night I can play what I want, from Techno to House, and have people trust me. I’ll build a connection with the crowd, exchange fist bumps, beers and hi-fives.
On a bad night I can feel —- Okay, they only like music with big kick drums, so I might as well just bang tin cans together and add bass. The worst thing in the world is when one guy/girl in the middle of the front row gives you the death stare while everyone else is enjoying themselves.
Some nights are very special. Usually when I try something risky and it pays off wonderfully. I remember one time I played a Distillery warmup (from 01 to 03) and thought — Fuck it, I’ll play at 133 bpm from the start, and people were totally up for it! It was amazing to see and experience that because usually you have to start at around 120 bpm and gradually work your way upwards to 130 max, so this recent one got stuck in my head.
I think I’m looking for a good, engaging crowd that is up for different styles, that can smile and not just stroke their chins or stay hooked to their phones.”
That night, it becomes evident that having a good crowd dancing (be)for(e) the DJ isn’t something that happens out of mere change, but it is rather something that Vincent nurtures. During his set, I was taught a lesson on how to use innovative music selection skills to curate a dance floor.
The Distillery is the “oldest house and techno club in Eastern Germany -- the first point of reference when it comes to sophisticated electronic music in the Leipzig scene” (rough translation from the club’s website…). I have arrived early and the basement is still closed. I get myself a White Russian and observe people as they arrive. It’s a diverse crowd, certainly more colourful than that of the typical Berlin club, albeit also younger. By 1am, just as the downstairs room is about to open, the place is already relatively packed. Neumann starts by playing rhythmically rich tracks, happier in tone. Slowly but surely, white-shirted guys with Cristiano Ronaldo-esque hair bring on the shuffle footwork to the centre of the floor, dancing overexcitedly. Swaying in the back, I see that Vincent Neumann has also noticed this and immediately takes action. It takes a couple of tracks to turn the mood of the music to a darker and deeper blend of hypnotic techno; as the claps and open hats become more and more scarce, so do the floaters that have ended up in the basement by mistake. Motivated young ravers take their space and within 30 minutes Vincent has turned the atmosphere of the party into one that identifies with his music.
Being a resident at the Distillery for four years has helped him immensely to become a better DJ and more confident in his music.
“You have to understand that before Distillery, I was always asking for opportunities to play anywhere and got rejected 99% of the time because I had no connections. I’m not the biggest socialiser on the planet, and promoters would circle the wagons when I would approach them to play. I can understand that because you don’t want let everybody in, but at the same time it pissed me off because ‘I’m pretty good at DJing, so why won’t anyone give me a chance?’
I was promised many gigs, but nothing ever materialised. I even thought of adapting my music and DJing style a couple of times, but I cannot for the life of me play stuff I don’t like! Essentially, this is because it’s not about the money for me; it’s more about having fun and getting to play the music that authentically resonates with me, not what people think they want to hear.”
Vincent’s sturdiness paid off eventually — not because he happened to find himself in the right place at the right time, but rather because he created the right conditions to have his music heard. If the DJ booth doesn't come to Vincent…
“Back when I was only just getting into electronic music, I found most parties pretty boring, with everyone high as a kite on ketamine. There was no dancing, just laying on the floor (obvious hyperbole) looking bleak, which made me think, “come on, this is dance music! It is meant to be enjoyed and to have a good time to, not be miserable”. That’s not my idea of a good time and those are not the parties I wanna go to. I feel uncomfortable playing a role of something I am clearly not. I wanna be myself and have fun doing so.
So Jens (my best friend) and I said ‘Fuck it, let’s do our own party’. It was 2011. Tina, a friend who attended our parties regularly, had a cousin who played often at Distillery at that time, so he invited me over one evening to play — my debut at the Distillery was in March 2012. After that, the booker asked me to play here another couple of times, and since we got along effortlessly, it was basically a no-brainer to start a working relationship (and actual friendship).
Soon after I became a resident at Distillery — it was very liberating because it showed me that I didn’t have to change myself in order to gain recognition; it would eventually come by itself. I could still be me (which is what DJing is about, in my opinion) and not portray some kind of character in a play.
At Distillery, I finally had a home for DJing. I am grateful beyond words for the opportunity the club and the team gave me.”
Vincent Neumann grew up in Leipzig, a city that was home to some of classical music’s most important composers — Bach, Wagner, Mendelssohn Bartholdy and Schumann. As the son of a professional choir singer, he started singing in a church choir at the age of 5 or 6, and at 7 he started playing the flute. At 14, he moved on to the saxophone, which was ditched when he entered his long-hair-metal phase to give way to the bass guitar — Vincent confesses to have failed miserably at trying to learn the instrument autodidactively, claiming: “I think I can still play Weezer’s Only In Dreams on it, but that’s pretty much it.”
The way Neumann speaks of this relationship to music is enthralling. He seems to remember all the details and makes a point not to skip even the most potentially embarrassing phases we’ve all been through, which most ‘forget’ to mention. Neumann then goes on to passionately narrat a heroic journey that has shaped his character and posture in life, and which ultimately won him the olympic booth at Bargain.
“I had been very interested in music ever since I could think. I used to buy CDs from my favourite bands the day they were released, put the CD in my stereo, take out the booklet and try to learn the lyrics as fast as possible. I think I also made countless mixtapes to impress girls, but for some strange reason they mostly weren’t into sludge metal or weird noise projects by Mike Patton.
I was interested in a variety of genres. The first band I was really into was a German punk band called “Die Ärzte” at around 13, because their hooks were very catchy and their lyrics were both funny and very poignant.
Then, I think I discovered Nine Inch Nails (this was back when Trent Reznor released The Fragile), closely followed by the Melvins and indie-rock in all of its varieties. At 16/17, I developed a very eclectic taste as I was had become very interested in old school death metal (Death, Suffocation, Obituary, Dying Fetus…), in addition to US and German rap. No electronic music yet though.
At one point in life I even wanted to become a music journalist — back when print media was still a thing people bought and paid attention to. Luckily, I quickly dropped that thought.
Electronic music really came into my life when I was around 20. Of course, I had heard techno and house before, but always thought the same thing most young people who are into rock and or rap think: ‘Where is the chorus? I can’t sing along to this, this is boring. Why is it seven minutes long? OMG, there’s nothing happening here, ZZZ...’”
Vincent is also a really good storyteller. Propelled by the enthusiasm to share his stories, he speedily segways from one event to the next after having explored the social annotations or context in each part.
“The gateway to electronic music was, as with many people who were into rap, Drum’n’Bass. Back then it was sort of a natural progression to listen to rap, but to go out dancing to D’n’B.
The very first act that really shook me was DJ Marky in the Distillery Leipzig. I had no idea who he was… I happened to be hanging out with friends that day and they told me ‘Hey we’re about to see this great D’n’B DJ, do you wanna come with us?’ and since I had nothing better to do, I was like ‘Oh yeah, sure’.
He played so well and with such passion -- it was really life-changing! At one point, I remember he picked up the turntable and scratched with his braces. That evening got me into Drum’N’Bass quite heavily and I would religiously attend all the parties I could find.
I especially liked (and still do like) LTJ Bukem, Makoto, Greg Packer and Odyssey, so I’m more on the Liquid Funk side of things. At the same time, I was still heavily into Hardcore (Converge, Comeback Kid, Zann), Post Rock (Mogwai, ISIS, Mono, Neurosis) and Drone (Bohren & der Club Of Gore, Stars Of The Lid, Flying Saucer Attack).
D'n'B was only a niche scene in Germany (or at least in Leipzig), so after a while it became frustrating to go out to (almost) empty parties, and I soon discovered IDM through Aphex Twin. It was incredible to hear him put all these awesome melodies into one single track effortlessly, the same as his colleagues Squarepusher, Wisp, Autechre, Plaid, µ-ziq and many others.
Then things got even niche-ier as I started to get into breakcore artists, such as Venetian Snares, Bogdan Raczynski, Bong-Ra and DJ Scotch Egg — I remember seeing Venetian Snares around 2008 at Maria Am Ostbahnhof. It was a great night and I sweated profusely, but I also noticed one thing that irked me: You had to know the songs to have fun and not «fall out of rhythm».
I got frustrated again and began looking elsewhere… I was hooked, but I wanted something that didn’t imply having to know everything to have fun — otherwise, you cannot really let go. Another thing that pissed me off about the Post-Rock, Drum N Bass and Breakcore scenes was that you would meet the same 20 people at all the raves.”
I notice how Vincent Neumann’s musical explorations are so intimately connected with partying and how it was the pursuit of fun times on the dance floor that somehow guided him to the music that allowed the right environment in the parties he attended at first, and put together later on.
“Luckily though, that was basically at around the same time when the whole electro-house / bloghouse thing started taking off, which immediately captured my attention.
Super catchy songs that are incredibly fun to dance to and a fresh spirit with the shiny glow of something new. Bloghouse is the reason I wanted to become a DJ. I think there were at least 10 blogs I followed and checked religiously for new stuff. This was also while I was still a student so there was no fucking way I could afford actual vinyl records, let alone turntables.
I bought some mixing gear: my first Macbook, a Behringer BCD 3000, and a UC-33E which I only bought because I saw Surkin play with it, but never actually used because mixing with Ableton Live is fucking boring, and I started putting mixes with bloghouse tracks online. Occasionally, I also got asked to play at friends parties, but nothing regular or paid for — even though that never was or will be the goal for me anyway.
I discovered actual techno (think Ostgut, Baum, Drumcode, Figure…) in about 2009 when this online friend from Cologne asked me to do parties with him. We did a couple of parties in 2010 and 2011 with Electric Rescue, Julian Jeweil, Damiano Van Erckert and some others, but I had a limited connection to the scene in Cologne as I was still living in Leipzig. So after a while, when the parties weren’t breaking even, we naturally disbanded. It was still a valuable experience because I got to learn how to play in front of actual crowds and deal with a moving floor.
I met my closest friend back in Leipzig after having been apart for at least 8 years (I moved to Dresden to study and he stayed in Leipzig, but we had lost touch before high school because we went to different schools). We bumped into each other at The Distillery Leipzig one night in the summer and we started throwing ideas about doing parties in Leipzig.
We were bored of the same old tech-house acts playing the same venues and wanted something new. We were heavily into Stroboscopic Artefacts, Dement3d, Edit-Select Records and some others, so we started hosting parties called OBLIQUE with DJs like Thomas Hessler, Percyl, Jonas Kopp, Developer, etc.
Then, in 2012, I also went to Berghain for the first time (http://berghain.de/event/370 — yes, he remembers the event!) and obviously this evening changed my life. Ever since then, I’ve taken things a lot more seriously. It’s still mostly about having fun though, at the end of the day”.
The apparent paradox requires further explanation, I think. Can it still be fun if it’s not just for fun? i.e how can someone take something seriously and be ambitious about it without getting sucked into the black hole of excessive eagerness?
“I try to make playing anywhere as fun as possible for everyone involved. Many DJs do it for a living, and since only about a hundred make a comfy living from it, the rest are dependant on a good performance, a good revenue for the party, and good reviews -- either through word of mouth or social media. Me, I have a full time day-job, and I DJ as a way to relax and enjoy myself.
But just because you do things for fun it doesn’t mean you can’t have ambitions. For example, I started running a while ago. Although I do this for fun (and fitness of course), after a while, when you reach a certain level, you don’t want to “downgrade” yourself and go from a 10km run down to say 3km. You can have serious entertainment, so to speak”.
Indeed, one of the things that struck me the most the first time I saw Vincent Neumann closing Berghain (besides how well structured his set was), was the fact that he was having as much, if not more fun, than we were.
“The thing about playing Berghain is that I prepare for it A LOT. It is the fulfilment of a dream for me every time I step into that booth. Especially when I think of how lucky I am to be able to express my feelings, to share my vision of techno and connect with other passionate music enthusiasts through music in the best club in the world, where so many other great DJs have played before me and will also play after me.
There are millions of DJs in the world, and only a couple of hundred have had the chance to play this club, so I try to always play to my best abilities, simply as a means to ‘return the favour’.
When I play Berghain, I think of all the great DJs I look up to, some of which have become close friends of mine over the years, and watched play at the bar or spent countless hours dancing to on the floor. Now things have switched, maybe someone in the audience looks up to me and also shares the dream of playing there.”
Vincent’s awareness that some eyes are set on him sharpens his sense of mission. If High Snobiety blames the lack of wording in electronic music for its bleakness, Vincent Neumann has found a way around it: the titles he chooses for the mixes he uploads on Soundcloud are ironic and poignant… Is it important to provoke thought? I ask.
What sort of change would you like to bring through it? And is there a favourite mix title?
“I started doing mixes back in… 2008, if I remember correctly. This was before Soundcloud, so I had to upload the mixes to Rapidshare, Mediafire or something and I would post the links to forums I hung out on (this was also the time where people didn’t have phones in front of their faces and was back when people still went to stationary bulky machines called personal computers to log on to the world wide web) and hope someone would download it (because you couldn’t stream it) and give feedback. It was a grind, but it was the best thing to get yourself heard.
The thing with the mix titles goes back to my point of not wanting to change or pretend to be something I’m not. I’m (currently) not a pessimistic dude who takes himself too seriously, and am actually quite a histrionic person. I like to observe things, and am interested in all things regarding digital and pop culture. So I started naming them after things I noticed: ’Ich seh dich nie, der Algorithmus ist einfach zu riesig.’ which translates to ‘I never see you, the algorithm is just too big.’ — an observation on how we sometimes don’t see our close friends online that much because certain algorithms present us with other calculated stuff instead. It was random thoughts or just how I felt at a certain point in time (‘That Loefah record isn’t even that good’ is about a piece on Resident Advisor back in 2014). Sometimes they are a play on a Black Metal song or album titles mixed with digital culture (‘A sign for the normcore hordes to ride’ is a mix of the term normcore with the Immortal track 'A sign for the norse hordes to ride').
So in a way they are kind of a mini-diary for me, because I can always look at one title and go, “oh yeah, at that time I felt like this and this was when I was at xyz, and some of them are still fucking hilarious to me!! — I have a note on my phone with potential mix titles.
The first mix was called ‘lol ist virtual dj cool’ because I had just pirated Virtual DJ online and did my first mix and with the magic of the sync button EVERYTHING WORKED PERFECTLY, so of course I thought I was the greatest DJ on Earth and God’s gift for the dance floor. In recent times, I’ve used all kinds of different titles about internet romanticism and cultural observations. For example, ‘Verführerische Versprechen, die komplexe Realität mit einfachen Antworten zu erklären’, which translates to ‘Tempting promises to explain complex reality with simple answers’, which obviously plays on my thoughts about the current populist right-wing movement that simply says “Make x great again” or promises to turn back the wheel of time just like that. Another title I used was ‘Im Namen der Kunst ist dann aber wieder alles okay oder was?’ which roughly translates to ‘Doing something in the name of art makes everything okay or what?’”
Neumann’s self-proclaimed entitlement to be who he is, to speak unapologetically and act spontaneously will come to my mind when I read “Meet Me In The Bathroom: Dance Music Needs More Rock Stars” on Mixmag later in October.
Not that he is the rebellious rock star type the author of the article exalts, but rather a more rational intervenient; yet, he’s got that rock-star authenticity and a grungy, zero-fucks-given attitude that totally qualifies him as iconic. Even his geeky look (a simple white t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers, square frames, neatly cut blond hair, light-blue eyes, milky-white skin) somehow contributes to the charisma.
He impresses because he’s not trying to impress; he is confident and blunt but extremely empathetic -- and that shows on the dance floor. The frequent rants at this or that never come from a place of exclusion; it is rather that he is aware of the tensions in the world and the social pressures to achieve, to become, to fit in and how it all takes a toll on people.
Was that perhaps why he decided to become a psychotherapist for his ‘daytime job'?
“I decided to become a psychotherapist rather late in my youth (when I was 18). The reason for this is as weird as it is logical: I got to know this girl whom I had one of my biggest crushes on ever (Hi Franzi!) -- she was intelligent, beautiful and very interesting to be with. One day she told me that she often missed school because of appointments with her psychotherapist. So I thought to myself, ‘Oh, I’ll just become a psychotherapist myself, then I can heal her and we can be together until the end of time’ (something like that). Unfortunately we never started a relationship, but we are still in contact to this day.
However, at an earlier point, when I was 16 or so and started meeting a couple of friends regularly, I remember noticing that, for whatever reason, people often felt comfortable telling me their secrets, wishes and fears, and sometimes very private accounts of horrible things that had happened in their families.
Also, I was always interested in observing people to find out what motivates or hinders people. I didn’t like biology or math so medicine was a no-go for me. In addition, I didn’t want to do something that I felt was useless; what good is the 1057th reinterpretation of Goethe’s Faust when that doesn’t really have an impact on 99.9% of people or changes anyone’s life.
And I didn’t want to do stupid or not-very-brain-tickling jobs because I get bored quickly from repetitive tasks. I wanted to do something where I could implement all my skills.”
More often than not, I would guess, the people dancing the wildest in front of the DJ are under the influence of some sort of drug, especially if we take into consideration that alcohol is a drug. I find it intriguing how Vincent responds to this topic, especially being a psychotherapist who focuses on the treatment of addiction problems. Are these two universes conflictive or do they actually help him perform better in the other?
“I don’t find these 2 universes conflicting.
People have been using all kinds of drugs since they started walking on two legs, and it will probably continue like this until we’ve eradicated ourselves from planet Earth, either through a slow and painful global warming death or a quick and easy nuclear holocaust.”
His constant caustic observations are delightful!
“Everyone can do what they want, and everyone is responsible for their own actions. I’m your typical social democrat (the bottom left green corner on the political compass), so you can do whatever you want as long as you don’t harm me.”
What do you think of drugs in general? And of alcohol in particular -- is it particular compared to other drugs?
“If you just take the definition of “drug” or the German word “Droge”, it’s pretty harmless as it just means ‘raw material used as recreational substance, spice or stimulant’, so there’s nothing wrong or dangerous with that.
I think, like most pharmacologists will tell you, that the dose makes the poison. Some people use substances as drugs, some people use high-speed (no pun intended) cars as drugs, others use drugs -- such as the internet -- to escape from their environment, their problems, their thoughts or fears. All of that is fine as long as you don’t go down that rabbit-hole too deep. Lord knows I’ve done drugs or used media as drugs; I spent a lot of time in World Of Warcraft in 2005, and in hindsight, I can definitely say I was addicted to it. Drugs will always be a part of human society and there is no way to deny this.
Alcohol is a very special drug because 90% of the world’s population have no problem using it in a responsible way (you can’t say the same thing about methamphetamine or heroin). Once you start getting addicted to it, it is a fight until the end of your life because you will be confronted multiple times per day with other people drinking it near you, and just because you stayed sober for 10 years, one sip can lead to relapse fairly quickly.
It is much easier to stay abstinent from drugs like cocaine, mescaline or DMT, because you can’t buy those for a few bucks in the nearest supermarket and you don’t see commercials praising a nice 250mg Donald Trump pill on an online ad either.”
I understand we’re here to speak about music, but I’m not ready to drop the topic. It increasingly seems that people often NEED to resort to drugs in order to amplify consciousness, to bend emotions in order to let go and to feel more connected to the music and to the people and the party around...
“I can only speak for the clients I deal with. Most of them started drinking harmlessly like most of us do to relax, lower the anxiety when at a social gathering or to “drown their sorrows” in a few beers. It is far easier to do these kinds of things just by chugging down an ice cold beer than overcoming your own fear (because this can take weeks, months, years) or by learning to calm yourself down through the power of your mind.
Resorting to drugs can be because of all kinds of things, sometimes because you want to stay awake, sometimes because you want to escape from reality and sometimes because you go all esoteric beach-bro and have a ‘mind-altering LSD trip’“— he draws the bracket with his fingers while using his most hipster voice to impersonate the irony, and then cracks laughing.
Sometimes it is simply to kill boredom. I see a lot of young people that frankly don’t know what to do with their money or their time so they spend hundreds of euros on pills, coke and ket every weekend. And of course, it’s very intriguing to have a more intense experience than a pretty normal or bland one, so taking drugs to enhance your physical dancing experience even more is something that most people, I assume, would try.”
When does recreational use become addiction?
“Recreational use becomes addiction once you think you cannot go on without the drug anymore. When you start craving for it, when you show signs of withdrawal -- both mentally and physically -- when you cannot control the amount you take, when your life starts only revolving around consuming the drug or finding ways to get more of the drug, and when you keep doing the drug despite your surroundings asking you to stop.
You can go here for the ICD-10 criteria of alcohol addiction, the criteria apply to any other addiction.”
Yeah, I have a feeling some of us should cross-check our levels of… commitment to substances (or, as Vincent has very pertinently pointed out, the internet and social media!) every once in a while.
Going back to music —- is it also an addiction?
Is it possible to live with moderation in a circle that seems to rotate around excess?
“I buy records excessively and I listen to music excessively, yes, but other than that I like to spend most of my free time alone. I work Monday to Friday from 7:30 to around 15:45, then I go home or meet very close friends, but mostly I stay home and read a book or watch a URL rap battle. Through the blessings and curses of the internet I can stay connected with my closest DJ friends (Thomas Hessler, Blind Observatory, Kyle Geiger, Nihad Tule…).
The recipe for balance, to me, is pretty easy: I try to do a bit of everything and not just become absorbed in one thing -- be it the internet, sports or hanging out alone…
I can’t surround myself with people all the time. I also cannot just have psychotherapists as friends, which would be fucking absurd because we’d all ask each other ‘Hm, and how does that make you feel?’ and I’d go berserk in no time.
We all need different inputs. We also need to be alone from time to time or, dare I say...offline. So that helps me to keep the balance. Exercise, time for myself, do nothing, hang out with friends, listen to ambient records instead of 140bpm tribal techno…"
In the meantime, Dr. Rubinstein is bringing her speeding train back to the station and Blind Observatory, who has become one of Vincent Neumann’s best friends in the scene, is about to start.
“Djing at Distillery has allowed me to meet many DJs I admire, have a nice dinner with them before the gig, watch them play together, get drunk beyond belief backstage and stay in contact afterwards. Sometimes when DJs play at the club and I am not scheduled for that night, I still hang out with them before, or take them out to dinner, because another huge part of techno (or music itself really) is about connecting. Some nights the dinners were better than the actual gigs and sometimes we would forget to go DJing because the conversation would just flow naturally (I remember one dinner with Spencer Parker. We had just met and still we hung out for like 3 hours and then all of a sudden I realised ‘Fuck, you have to play in 1 hour! We have to go to the club!’). Needless to say, this is also how the connection with Berghain happened because both clubs have mutual respect for each other and work together a lot.”
Connections. Is that the secret to happiness?
“I don’t really like the word happy because it is very “loaded” with what we believe happiness should be, which honestly changes a lot over the years: when I was 17 I was happy when I found a unique item in Diablo 2 for my Necromancer; when I was 19 I was happy about being accepted to study psychology; at 26 I was happy I got into Berghain for the very first time; now, I am happy when I see my parents healthy or when I wake up without pain in my body or when Blind Observatory randomly sends me a stupid meme on Facebook.
I don’t know what the key elements to achieve happiness are. I think it is mostly about setting goals for yourself and working hard to achieve them. At the same time, I think it is about doing something that will still be there after a while and give you memories. Having a top comment on youtube (which is what some people actually thrive for) is not something you can remember in the long run. Having an awesome night where your body is involved and you engage with others in real life on the other hand is something your mind and body remembers. So go out dancing!”
When asked how he would define himself in 10 words, Vincent simply replied:
“Vincent Neumann is a psychotherapist by day, DJ by night.”
Dancing is also therapy, and from this point of view, Vincent Neumann’s calling in life is very clear: to help his patients and his ravers connect to the only person that needs to truly understand them — themselves.
If you’re in Berlin for the Klubnacht starting November 11th, you can try going in into Berghain and experiencing Vincent Neumann playing for yourself. As a word of advice, things usually start to escalate when the infamous Snax wraps up at 6pm on Sunday, so taking Monday 13th off is advisable.