Stadtaffe invites you to picture Berlin as a flashing, thumping urban jungle packed with mischievous primates. Peter Fox swings through this concrete canopy as the self-crowned “king of the apes,” bragging about his swagger, booming beats, and banana-sized paychecks. The lyrics paint vivid, cartoon-like scenes: crowds screech with delight, neon signs get snatched, and the narrator beats his chest on rooftops while Havana Club barrels roll. It is a wild, carnival-style celebration where everything is bunt, laut und blinkt – colorful, loud, and blinking.
Yet beneath the party fur lies a sly social commentary. The “apes” symbolize city dwellers numbed by noise, smog, and consumer glitter, partying hard even when they are sad. Fox mocks the emptiness of endless nightlife, the pollution that “stinks,” and the danger of becoming lazy, “fat,” or forgotten in the chaos. In the end, being a Stadtaffe means embracing the raw energy of city life while recognizing its madness – a love-hate anthem for anyone who has ever felt both thrilled and overwhelmed by the big-city jungle.