At first glance, "Human Radio" seems to be a paradox - like a jazz saxophonist making electronic music. Who is just as comfortable playing with Donald Byrd, Branford Marsalis or Billy Hart as with Notwist, Tied+Tickled Trio or Fauna Flash. He understands music "more in terms of sounds than categories" and appreciates Billie Holiday and Radiohead, Bartók and Steve Reich in equal measure. The supposed opposites are not mutually exclusive: In Johannes Enders' case, they rather complement each other. "Human Radio" is not a science-fiction monstrosity, an attack against the current broadcasting malaise or the alternative to the format-appropriate swell. "Humans are receivers," the 37-year-old explains the intention behind the title. "And each of us has our own way of processing these outside influences."

On the disturbingly beautiful and overwhelmingly engaging second album of his project Enders Room, which he realized single-handedly with eight of his best musical friends, Johannes Enders conveys his enormous instrumental intelligence elegantly and undogmatically. He spent a year working on "Human Radio". Again and again, the declared "recording technique freak" took on the music of this album in his own studio: He communicates, interprets and improvises to self-programmed beats and self-composed musical accompaniment. This music, which is simultaneously organic, namely alive, and synthetic, namely electronic, is best surrendered to unreservedly and with full awareness. The more one listens to this music, the more intensively one listens to it, the clearer and at the same time more multi-faceted it sounds. "North Hook", for example, a piece for a beach in the "beautiful nightmare" of South Africa, only changes after almost four minutes from a relaxed bossa beat to an intense drum'n'bass work, which finds a worthy opponent in Enders' wonderfully breathy tenor

At the end you hardly know what happens to you, but you feel stirred up by a tremendous experience. Nothing has sounded so intense and involved for a long time. The cliché of the "soundtrack without a film" proves true here nine times over.