INAN BATMAN x DSCHUNGEL: “SOMETHING” IS HAPPENING There are clubs – and then there are places that become part of a city’s mythology. From 1978 to 1993, DSCHUNGEL was one of those places. Hidden behind closed blinds on Nürnberger Straße in West Berlin, it became a meeting point for musicians, painters, actors, writers, designers and outsiders. David Bowie, Iggy Pop, Nick Cave, Romy Haag, Martin Kippenberger, Grace Jones and Prince all moved through its world. But what made DSCHUNGEL important was never celebrity alone. It was the fact that disciplines dissolved into one another there. Creativity wasn’t performed – it was lived. More than thirty years later, Götz Offergeld, publisher of Numéro Berlin and Fräulein, is bringing the spirit of DSCHUNGEL back – not as a replica of the old nightclub, but as a contemporary cultural platform. Music is the beginning. Exhibitions, publications, festivals, radio shows, live events and further collaborations are about to follow. The first step in this new era of DSCHUNGEL is a collaboration with Inan Batman. It begins with the song Something, featuring DSCHUNGEL, now on Spotify. Inan, who runs his own record label BB (Batman Brothers), will also provide a home for future DSCHUNGEL music releases and collaborations with other artists without genre limitations. It’s simply about the spirit of DSCHUNGEL: bringing different people and creative worlds together, celebrating good music, and seeing what can grow from it. FROM FIVE EUROS TO 55 SHOWS To fully understand where Inan’s passion for music comes from, you have to look at the world he grew up in. Born into a Turkish family in Stuttgart, music was part of his life long before he ever thought of it as a career. His father, who came to Germany in 1978, had formed a band with members of his family and spent his weekends playing at Turkish weddings, while working in a factory during the week. Inan and his brother grew up surrounded by music: his brother began playing drums at six or seven, while Inan learned the piano. But his musical ambition soon extended far beyond the family home. The neighbourhood he grew up in was shaped by migration, with African, Polish, German, Kurdish and Eritrean families living alongside one another. Their common ground was the local youth centre – one of the few places where you could spend your afternoons as a kid. Inan Batman: The one place where everyone came together was the youth centre. It was basically a place for kids who didn’t have much else to do. And, luckily for me, they offered a DJ course. It cost five euros for half an hour – I still remember that. I immediately thought: That’s it. I had grown up with all these different kinds of music – from Turkish folklore to Michael Jackson – and suddenly DJing gave me a tool through which I could bring all of that together. I could reach everyone. Fräulein: Sometimes it only takes one moment to send your life in a completely different direction. Inan Batman: Exactly. So I started DJing at parties at the youth centre, and from there it kept developing. At the same time, I eventually went to fashion school. Everyone around me at Hauptschule in Stuttgart wanted to work for Mercedes-Benz, Porsche or Bosch. But I was always wondering who made the people in music videos look so cool. Then I discovered you could actually study fashion, and I immediately knew what to do. I even went back and got my Realschulabschluss so I could do it. Parallel to that, I started working at a sneaker store because I wanted to be closer to the hip-hop community. One day, the store manager said, “You’re not good at selling, but why don’t you DJ instead on Saturday at the store?” Of course, I said yes. I was earning six euros an hour but it was my starting point because club promoters, DJs, and all the cool kids came to this store. I started burning CDs and handing out my mixtapes, then flyers for parties. Finally, I threw the first party on my own. And somehow, this became one of the biggest hip-hop events in Stuttgart. By the time I was around 20, I was throwing parties in Stuttgart for 3,000 or 4,000 people. Fräulein: What I like about your story is how organic it sounds. You weren’t obsessively focused on one master plan but one thing simply led to another. Inan Batman: One hundred percent. It developed very organically. Back in the days, DJs had to go through all those steps. There wasn’t a shortcut. You bought your own equipment and invested real money. You started as a warm-up DJ, then became a support DJ. I’m so grateful that I went through all of it because, looking back, I understand how much value there is in those years. Fräulein: Because you build substance? Inan Batman: Exactly. And nobody can take that away from me. There’s an energy and a confidence that comes from all those years. At some point, my parties in Stuttgart became a bridge between underground and commercial culture. I want the Chanel bags there and the €10,000 tables, but I also want the people who arrive in sneakers because all they want to do is dance. It was very important to me that all worlds existed together. I come from the streets, but I also love luxury. That doesn’t have to contradict each other. That desire – to connect worlds that are usually kept apart – would become a recurring theme in everything Inan does. He soon began opening shows for international artists: Tyga, Chris Brown, Rick Ross, Kendrick Lamar, Drake. Then came a three-month tour across the United States with Wu-Tang Clan, roughly 55 shows and, suddenly, America unfolding from the window of a tour bus. Fashion never disappeared from the picture. In Berlin, Inan began making shirts, connecting his network of DJs, athletes, models and nightlife figures, and eventually developed projects with Highsnobiety. There were parties in New York, fashion collaborations, work with adidas and Louis Vuitton, and an increasingly large network across music and culture. At one point, however, growth stopped feeling like the answer. Inan Batman: At my peak, I was involved in nine companies. There was no stop. For 10 or 15 years, it was just: keep going, keep going, keep going. But now I’m at a point where it’s no longer about achieving more. I’ve recently turned down opportunities because they didn’t align with my values. I thought: This is a distraction. Something is testing me. Something is trying to pull me away from my mission. Fräulein: How would you describe that mission? Inan Batman: To build a universe out of music, fashion and people – but this time differently. Someone I work with once said to me, “You’ve gained so much over the last 15 years. Now it’s time to give something back.” That really stayed with me. Shortly after, I was invited back to the fashion school I attended 20 years ago, and suddenly it clicked. Now I want to create a modern studio that brings together music, fashion and mentoring, where I can share what I’ve learned with the next generation. And I want to do more things simply because I enjoy them. That’s why DSCHUNGEL feels right for where I am now. When you meet someone like Götz, who has been in the industry for so long, there’s not much you can impress them with anymore. Earning the trust of someone like that means more to me than a million-dollar deal. YOU GAVE ME REALLY SOMETHING, SOMETHING The first release from the new DSCHUNGEL chapter is called Something. At its centre is one simple line: “You gave me really something, something.” A song full of longing that somehow leaves you wanting more. Something is less interested in telling a story than creating a feeling – and leaving enough space for everyone to find their own meaning in it. Fräulein: How did the version we hear today come together? What came from you, and what did Götz bring to it? Inan Batman: There was already a beat with a demo vocal. Then Götz recorded the vocals again and put his own signature on it through his voice and the effects. The lyric says, “You gave me really something, something.” Obviously, you can interpret that however you want. But my music has always had something to do with love. Especially when I’m producing, I often imagine the music almost as a message to a woman. There’s nothing negative in that world. The thoughts are always positive. People from my circle – producers, musicians and artists – who have heard the track with his vocal often say that Götz’ voice gives them Sting vibes. There’s a certain melancholy in it. Where do you feel you are musically today – with this project but also in general – compared to when you first started out? Inan Batman: I love hip-hop and R&B, but at some point it wasn’t giving me what I needed anymore. I know DJs who still play the same sound they played years ago, and they’re happy with it. But for me, that wasn’t enough. Then Covid happened, and I thought: This is the moment when I can make the switch to house music. So I did. The difference is almost physically. A hip-hop DJ set is punchy. It’s high dopamine all the time. There’s scratching, technique, showing off: Look what I can do. Look where I come from. Look what I’m wearing. House music says: Enjoy the journey. Some tracks last eight minutes. You close your eyes and you go somewhere. But I love both worlds. I’ve never felt that I had to exclude one thing in order to become another. And maybe that sentence is also the best way to understand DSCHUNGEL. Music can meet fashion. Glamour can coexist with the street. A magazine publisher can suddenly record a song. A nightclub that closed more than three decades ago can return without becoming a nightclub again. The point is not to recreate what already existed. It’s about taking everything you’ve learned and turning it into something new. Read Next Seen by Fräulein #36 Between Body and Matter: The Strange Beauty of Issey Miyake’s Urushi Body Seen by Fräulein #35