One paradox chases the other, and our damned senses often fool us with illusions. One can despair of this, nothing could be easier. But one can also take advantage of it. Like Lukas Klotzbach, who founded his solo-project at the end of 2014 and called it Into the Fray, a name ready for battle. Well, into the fray then. There’s hardly anyone who doesn’t think of aggressive sounds, explosive guitars and plenty of readiness for uproar. And then they pause for a moment, amazed, maybe even quite confused: introverted, reserved, floating, hypnotic and enmeshed in the finest melancholy, that’s how it sounds, his music. “I like the idea of being a bit amazed when first reading the name”, Klotzbach admits – and stresses that the name is supposed to illustrate a certain view on life.

Into The Fray have settled at the fine interface between melancholy and euphoria, so in the very borderlands, in which, all of a sudden, sorrow turns into strength and happiness into thoughtfulness. The music resembles an Indie-nocturne that is based on a classic-folkish singer/songwriter-fundament, and assiduously smudges the boundaries between Post Rock, Pop and Alternative with an intuition that is fading away spherically, like windshield wipers smudging the rain drops. “Music sparks emotions in me that I barely reach in the real world”, the 19-year old singer and guitarist confesses. “To me, music is escapism and compensation, a way into a utopia in which social or political aspects are completely irrelevant.”

Klotzbach knows that all that romantic escapism-transfiguration of the lonely musician is not always compatible with a normal life; he knows only too well. He sings about it in the honest and hence so touching “I’m A Dreamer” from his first demo. “This piece isn’t necessarily meant in a positive way”, he reveals. “It is about being torn. In this regard, at times I’m a dreamer who hopes – and at times a pessimist who realizes.” These two extremes collide in his music; here’s his realm in which he lets himself go. “I consciously allow myself to be overwhelmed by my emotions”, the young artist from Stuttgart says. One can hear it in the music. It sounds weightless, consciously without grounding, loosely floats a couple of centimeters above ground. The virtually continuously present melancholy fulfills the function of an anchor, as he says: “The most important thing about my music is that I feel comfortable with it. Precisely this melancholic mood allows that.” A case in point is the piece “Fragile”. All alone, all alone. I 've been stranded Klotzbach sings here with the air of the desperate. “Scars & Scratches” strikes the same tone. We're roaming endlessly until we're fading away.

His music carries a facet of his personality, is to him “a way of integrating my crazy thoughts into the real world without being completely depressed in the process.” Diehard optimist hits grumpy pessimist; they meet in the middle, make music together, come to terms. This is Into the Fray. A declaration of war to lethargy and a safe haven for dark days at the same time. “I write music to let go of troubles or to confront certain difficulties, while there’s at once also the hope that the music also helps other people.”

Somewhat, of course, he’s also a freak. Just like every artist. If they didn’t exist, our world would be a gray place. And Lukas Klotzbach is just a realistic pessimist with drooping corners of the mouth. It is the music that makes him accept, offers him protection. He happily jumps into the fray for it. Anything else wouldn’t be him; anything else wouldn’t be music.

- Björn Springorum