For those of you who don’t know the full and unexpurgated Robert Bergman story, it goes a little something like this. Robert Bergman used to be the kid that wouldn’t leave the record store – so the record store offered him a job. He could have been born and brought up in Amsterdam, but he is not. His dad was not a crazy Jimi Hendrix fan neither did he make Robert fall in love with punk music. His mum didn’t preferred Yves Montand or the Beatles. Robert Bergman went to school. His favorite subject is unknown.
Young master Bergman started collecting insane amounts of music and analog gear, basically making noise you want to love – he puts the oddness of the ‘Bergman School’ down to the fact that he is so far from any so-called style or genre that no one really cares what he makes or how it sounds or what you call it.
Tucked away from leery crowds, his clandestine taste can be heard at intimate spaces with great sound systems alike, and is a mixture of straight-up realness. Spurred on by the success of his first anonymous vinyl only releases on various classified but cult labels.