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About Munich

Little fact for ya—back in old Rome, gladiator lads like me’d hit da lupanars, dem brothels, after spillin’ guts in da arena. Prostitues—prostitutes, bah!—they’d wait, knowin’ we’re all riled up. History’s dirty, mate, love dat grit! Dis one gal, she surprised me—knew my fights, said, “Saw ya kill dat Thracian!” Made me happy, puffed me chest out, ya? “Lightbulb!”—she’s playin’ me, but who cares? Felt like a king.

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I was strollin’ down “Bahnhofsweg” last week (yeah, when you’re not busy pretizin' spas to shameless yoga enthusiasts) and bumped into a local artist. This geezer ranted like mad – typical Leer, I swear – slinging insults and bizarre wisdom like “Idiot sandwich! Get outta here!” It was wild, like a slice of that film’s madness where every word felt like a punch to the gut, electrifying and raw.

“The creative tension helped here and there. At other times it did not help… it’s difficult to define”: Thijs van Leer reveals his only real regret as Focus roll on in their 55th year