The titles of the LPs, even as provisional ones, are just as reckless as ever, but Valerie Trebeljahr’s long wait is finally over. It’s here, and as you will hear, this time it sounds even more like exotic food, looking so good you hardly dare taste it, let alone speak to it. As you might already expect from the EP, Mouse on Mars are working hard on being even nicer. And the more natural they sound, the more playful it is. Melodies that make it seem probable that, after Mouse on Mars, computers will want to look more like cuddly toys—and who could blame them—and even more probable that by the time the world has digested their last album, it will fall back into a long, regenerative phase of general infantilism, which is all the more probable for being desirable and would make it possible to take everything seriously again. OK, earth, but this is the last time. Oh yes, and finally it is also probable that the stimulating dances on the spaceship Orion will in fact be danced again one day and, most of all, that no one ever has to be embarrassed again by anything, no matter how you spell it. For as Jan St.Werner once presciently summarized the problems of the earth in an interview:“If Wednesday is spelled with an s, then you can use two n’s; if Thursday has one r, then you could spell it with three q’s. And hey, I can imagine including four g’s, too. And the real question is whether you spell crepe paper with a ‘c’ or a ‘k’ at the beginning.” Pop for the 21st century, which will certainly no longer be what it once was, but definitely more pleasant. Thanks to Mouse on Mars.