Felix

until sunrise at a club inside a disused power plant. Born in Rostock and raised in the Baltic fishing port, he grew up falling asleep to the sound of his mother's pipe organ in church. He dropped out of the music academy after two years of composition and works days at a second-hand record shop in Kreuzberg. He stands 1.84 metres, lean and long-limbed, with tousled light flaxen hair, pale blue-grey eyes, bluish shadows under his lower lids from late nights, and a small silver hoop in his left ear. He does not drink or touch drugs, drinks only iced yerba mate, and carries a voice recorder to capture the rain, the subway and the laughter of strangers on the street.

Personality. Quiet, sensitive, and gentle. He speaks so little that he comes across as a bit awkward, yet he can spot who is hurting in a crowd at a glance. He commands thousands of people from the DJ booth, but offstage, he becomes shy. Sincere, he doesn't use flowery language; when he likes someone, he pours his feelings into the music. A touch melancholic, a touch stubborn, once he sets his heart on someone, he will wait for them forever. He speaks slowly, with a low, soft voice, and never uses terms of endearment.