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- Rivulets - Happy New Year
- Rivulets - Wind is Howling
- Marc Gartman - Luf Kanh Brhak Ur Hrt
- Marc Gartman - Grave Mistake
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Rob Mazurek descends further and further into the realms of the electronic on his impressive new album, a noise experiment rife with complicated sounds and intricate environments. Where Mazurek is used to working with others — he's a regular contributor in several ensembles and his first solo album featured guest musicians — on Frankenstein he goes it completely alone, eschewing all instruments even for a completely electronic sound.
All sounds are created and manipulated using a computer, minidisc, and a tone generator, mixing warm tones and burbles with field recordings and loud distortion. Mazurek also seems to understand fully the importance of silence, as there are quite a few moments where quiet is king. It's a welcome break from the more grandiose moments, where deafening noise that could shatter walls fills the speakers, so it doesn't detract from the overall experience. It would have been amazing to hear what Mazurek would have done with some live instrumentation with the electronics as a base layer, or even if he'd manipulated music in the same fashion as the other sounds; but perhaps he felt he's done that enough elsewhere. The only other complaint, if it can be called that, is that two tracks at over sixty-two minutes makes it difficult to zero in on a specific part for a repeat listen. As a straight-through experience, though, I was hard pressed to think of another recent ambient noise record I enjoyed more. There are abrupt and delicate shifts, brilliant moments in mixing, and sounds that can cause head turning or seizures when heard on headphones. The throughline is appropriate for the title, as there is a touch of violence, just below the surface, in every track that may seem like a lamb more than a lion. Quiet drone melodies are augmented by clicks, whines, and hums, and the sounds of the outside world are joined by the manic whirl of machine noise and occasional screech tones. The pieces are exquisitely organized and orchestrated, and invoke many emotions. As far as boldly going where he's never gone before, Rob Mazurek succeeds in spades, even though I half hope this is a one time occurrence. It would be a shame for such a talented musician to leave it all behind for digital noise, even if it is this good.
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Cinzano & Cocaine and Idler were recorded in 2001 and 2002, respectively. While C&C is chic and jaunty, as the pert, smiling model on the cover suggests, Idleris appropriately languid and mellow. "Sea-Sprite Hula" conjures imagesof mod mermaids frolicking at an underwater cocktail lounge, while thetropical twang of "Rum Toddy" recalls lounge forefather Arthur Lyman'sHawaiian soundscapes.
To be perfectly honest, these EPs leave me positively beggingfor more. In a day and age where all too often elements of bossa novaand other Latin styles are thrown together haphazardly, Brueggen hastruly done masters of the genres such as Deodato and Marcos Valleproud.
*These EPs turned up at Brainwashed headquarters rather mysteriously,and Mr. Brueggen provides only a postal address as contact informationon the sleeves. However, should this review prompt you to seek themout, they can be obtained from the fine folks at Dusty Groove in Brueggen's native Chicago.
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- Michael Patrick Brady
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samples:
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It has been a few years since this German trio, comprised of brothers Ronald and Robert Lippok and Stefan Schneider, released their Kölner Brett and Pantone EPs, although members have been busy with other notable projects such as Tarwater and Mapstation. For the better part of their latest disc, Hotel Morgen, they appear to have fallen back on their unique compositional style and structures, use of instrumental and electronic-based sounds and space, which has made them one of my favorite groups, but without the type of sit-up-and-take-notice advances I expected after such a hiatus.Domino
That said, it's also probably what still makes this disc interesting — keeping it fresh without rehashing much of what's worked well in the past. Leading off the disc, the rhythmically punchy "Dahlem" shuffles along to bright and airy synth and Wurlitzer progressions that cushion Schneider's signature melodic bass play in the upper register with a touch of tremolo. "Feld" builds into syncopated, reverb knob-twirled machine rhythms, resembling a train going over a bridge complete with Doppler effect, which links up with a simple bass riff that grows menacing with each repetition to provide the foundation for textural synth soundscapes to float over. The aptly titled "Sol" is the most unique track in that it has the brightest feel, thanks in part to the percolating electro-rhythm augmented by live drums and major key progressions from the vibraphone which is woven with more upper register bass. The solid groove of "Miss You" moves along to choppy beats, bubbling keyboards and smooth low end, adding layers of electro-percussion, synth trickles and bass melodies. Comprised of fourteen tracks, four of which I'd consider interludes due to their brevity, this disc didn't exactly grab a hold of my ear at first, due to my noted expectations from not hearing anything from the band for sometime. However, after a few more listens and getting past thinking of it at times resorting to glorified minimalism, Hotel Morgen is chock full of all the stuff I like about To Rococo Rot, presented in such a way that it's kept crisp, which is what makes it good.
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Listening to German-based Margareth Kammerer is almost as difficult as attempting to read German without some kind of pocket dictionary. Her style is pale and remote, her attitude near the border of nonexistent, and her references obscure. It's to my benefit that B. Fleischmann, Philip Jeck, and Chris Abrahams are all over this record because, as interesting as her poetic deliveries can be, the semi-charming resonance that marks this recording simply wasn't doing it for me by itself.
There are points in Margareth Kammerer's songs where the music feels a bit recondite; I get the impression she's singing about some esoteric practices or feelings that only she can know. As far as mystery goes, this is a nice tough because Kammerer's voice and acoustic guitar sound rather secluded themselves. On the other hand, I feel distanced from the music at points where I feel like being closer to the warmth of the songs would be a far better thing. "I Carry Your Heart With Me" sounds like a stone wall; whatever is behind the wall is what's important, but there's no way I can get to it. Even the trumpet that's included on that song does little to remove the lifeless aura that surrounds the music. There are, however, times where Kammerer's voice really carries through and makes for an interesting mix with the music. Unfortunately these instances seem to occur only when she is accompanied by another musician. This isn't true of every song — "Facing It" is a nice folkish tune that actually demonstrates Kammerer has a vocal range — but there's no denying that the remix by B. Fleischmann is a better song. Perhaps it's the dichotomy on this record that is really bothering me. To Be an Animal of Real Flesh switches back and forth between lush and full instrumentation and Kammerer's bare voice and repetitive guitar. Had the latter been totally isolated and left seperate from the other, warmer songs, perhaps I'd be more of a fan of Kammerer as a solo artist. But, as it stands, Kammerer is far more interesting when people like Philip Jeck and Fred Frith are around. Ultimately this ends up sounding more like the collaborators' album and not Kammerer's. It's a decent record with some great songs on it, but there's just too much bland space that needs to be filled up before I can come back to it for anything more than those few gems.
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- Taylor McLaren
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- Michael Patrick Brady
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