Album Review: "In Ewigkeit" by Stefan Wiesbrock – A Folk Journey That Sticks With You
Alright, let’s talk about In Ewigkeit (which means “forever” if your German is as rusty as mine). Released in 2005 by Stefan Wiesbrock under the label Wachtmann Musikproduktion, this album feels like a warm hug from someone who just got back from an epic road trip across Germany and beyond. It’s folk music with a twist—like world vibes crashing into country twang, but not in that cheesy way you’d expect.
The tracklist reads like a collection of little stories, each one pulling you into its own universe. Tracks like Siesta Con Fiesta and Windstärke 6 are burned into my brain for different reasons, and I’ll tell ya why.
First up, Siesta Con Fiesta. This song hits you with this lazy, sun-soaked groove that makes you wanna grab a hammock and chill somewhere far away from responsibilities. The rhythm has this sneaky energy—it starts off mellow but then builds into something kinda wild, like when you’re lying on the beach thinking, “Nah, I’m good,” and suddenly find yourself dancing barefoot in the sand. There’s this accordion bit halfway through that sounds like it wandered straight out of a Spanish fiesta. Honestly? It’s impossible not to smile while listening to it.
Then there’s Windstärke 6, which translates to “wind force 6.” If you’ve ever been caught outside during one of those storms where the wind feels alive, this track nails that vibe perfectly. It’s got these haunting strings layered over percussion that mimics raindrops hitting pavement. At first, it feels moody and introspective, but then BAM—it shifts gears and turns into this triumphant swell, like you’ve weathered the storm and come out stronger. Weirdly enough, every time I hear it, I picture running through fields with my hair all messy, laughing at how ridiculous life can be. Yeah, it’s that kind of song.
Other tracks like Zauberwasserwald (which roughly translates to “magic water forest”—how cool is that?) and Paris-Dakar keep things interesting too. They bring their own flavors to the mix, whether it’s dreamy acoustic melodies or punchy beats that make your feet tap without permission. But honestly, the whole album flows together so smoothly, it’s hard to pick favorites.
What strikes me most about In Ewigkeit is how unpretentious it feels. Wiesbrock doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel here; instead, he crafts something heartfelt and real. You can almost imagine him sitting around a campfire strumming his guitar, telling tales of places he’s seen and people he’s met. And yeah, maybe some of the transitions between tracks feel a smidge rough around the edges, but isn’t that what gives folk music its charm?
Here’s the thing though: after listening to this album, I couldn’t help but wonder—if Stefan Wiesbrock were a chef, would he specialize in comfort food or experimental dishes? Because In Ewigkeit tastes like both. It’s familiar yet surprising, simple yet layered. Kinda like finding an old photograph tucked inside a book—you didn’t expect it, but now you can’t stop staring.
So go ahead, give In Ewigkeit a spin. Just don’t blame me if you end up daydreaming about random adventures or randomly booking flights to Berlin.
