 |
|
Herbst9, "The Gods are Small Birds, but I am the Falcon"
Herbst9 bring into focus the trances and dream-quests of shamans and the primeval connection we all have to the primitive past. Drawing on the vast reservoir of the collective memory of the human species, Herbst9’s Henry Emisch and Frank Merten produce monumental music that simultaneously delves into deep time and memory, as well as the physically unfathomable depths of the subterranean.
This is no superficial attempt at ethno-ambient puerility, however, merely lashing voice samples of ‘primitives’ to anemic electronic washes or trip-hoppy tribal rhythms. Herbst9 haven’t gone for the easy option of tying together stereotypical elements in an attempt to create some dubiously portentous vision of the past. In some respects it feels as if they have discerned the secret of temporal elasticity, bent time to their will, and rendered the intervening period between then and now obsolete. Even so, they are only able to give us glimpses and fleeting flavors, partial sketches, distilling observations into representative and digestible bite-size chunks. Snatches of almost incomprehensible voices, with only the occasional word being understood, surface and fleetingly rise above seas of deep oceanic drone, before being sent once more into the depths. These are the voices of all our ancestors, familiar and knowable but simultaneously and forever beyond our understanding, alien even. It would be quite easy to let these voices become overwhelming, to form a warm fuzzy blanket, reassuringly comforting. Yet, there is a lot about these recordings that is distinctly unsettling and not quite as benign as intimated.
The chronological distance is one warning perhaps—that however much one would like to think we can somehow connect with those voices, the world it describes is out of reach and not the one of today. The samples used are indeed culled from the present, lulling one into a misleading belief that they are the bridge between the years. Couple those voices with the darkly-flavored and edgy swirls and drones constituting the medium upon which they float and have their being and alarm bells should start ringing. These background drones are meant to upset and disturb the equilibrium, even if only subliminally, their purpose is to serve as a reminder that these waters contain hidden dangers. The ‘ancestral voices’ are just one among many inhabitants of this temporal ocean, and not all of them are friendly and welcoming.
Dark ambient, when successfully crafted, is the conjuror of both sublime visions and dark unformed terrors. Herbst9 dig deeply and artfully ino the genre, coming up with resonances and music that burrows into the soul. The title track is entirely typical: softly shuddering washes and cavernous distant thunder roll ominously overhead with gentle whispers echoing in harmony. Gradually, the tone deepens, becoming darker, and it ushers in an uneasiness and a discernible coldness. This state is compounded and heightened by the introduction of a shuffling tribal percussive gait, portending a slow and unhurried doom. In contrast, the opening track “The Lament Begins” hints at deep loss and an even deeper grief, one that spans the years and continues to entrench itself ever deeper the more distance it puts between past and present.
It’s those tensions created by the chiaroscurotic dynamics that make this album successful. In other words, the interplay between the beguiling siren voices and the dark, dense, liquid medium from which they emerge make this album as good as it is. The tension reveals itself with subtlety, resulting in a subliminally-felt frisson rather than physical sparks. An indescribable dread descends, its source remaining undiscovered. Despite my generally positive outlook on it, it has to be noted that this album can't escape all negative criticism. My one disappointment, mild though it is, revolves around the fact that I felt there was a sense of uniformity; this album sometimes defines itself too narrowly and so its execution suffers.
Even with this reservation, I consider The Gods are Small Birds, but I am the Falcon to be a fine album, Emich and Merten exert a good measure of craft upon the dark ambient genre. Dark ambient is all about the evocation of mood and atmosphere, and by any of the criteria normally used to judge such genre efforts, I deem this to be a great deal more than adequate.
samples:
