In the swamp is a bar. Music is played there every evening: none of this happy-clappy house in the middle of the sludge, turf, rotting trees and stinking seaweed. The hottest Insta-posts from this place show a gathering of somewhat controversial music-making forms. To put it politely. Depressive does, shaggy dogs, bulgy frogs, waitresses with bosoms like atomic missiles. Together with all of them, Morja sings the beauty of the eerie twilight and, with this jolly Bukowski-style burlesque, guarantees a full house whenever Der Drecksklub moves into the Braunschweig LOT Theatre.