We have finally cleared out the backlog of great music and present some new episodes.
Episode 711 features music from The Jesus and Mary Chain, Zola Jesus, Duster, Sangre Nueva, Dialect, The Bug, Cleared, Mount Eerie, Mulatu Astatke & Hoodna Orchestra, Hayden Pedigo, Bistro Boy, and Ibukun Sunday.
Episode 712 has tunes by Mazza Vision, Waveskania, Black Pus, Sam Gendel, Benny Bock, and Hans Kjorstad, Katharina Grosse, Carina Khorkhordina, Tintin Patrone, Billy Roisz, and Stefan Schneider, His Name Is Alive, artificial memory trace, mclusky, Justin Walter, mastroKristo, Başak Günak, and William Basinski.
Episode 713 brings you sounds from Mouse On Mars, Leavs, Lawrence English, Mo Dotti, Wendy Eisenberg, Envy, Ben Lukas Boysen, Cindytalk, Mercury Rev, White Poppy, Anadol & Marie Klock, and Galaxie 500.
Skolavordustigur Street in Reykjavík photo by Jon (your Podcast DJ).
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This latest project by the Hamburg-based musician, composer, and futurist, Felix Kubin, (his second release on Dekorder) is a collaboration with the contemporary music chamber group, ensemble Intégrales, and the reknowned German underground pop producer and sound engineer, Tobias Levin.
Echohaus was recorded in and around Levin's Electric Avenue studio in the basement of WESTWERK, a former squat and cultural centre for non-commercial art and music in Hamburg. A special recording technique was developed for the project whereby the musicians played simultaneously in separate rooms, connected to one and other only by headphones. This was done in order to achieve a lively,“cinematic" sound that made use of the particular dynamics of the rooms and amplified mechanical details. The rooms, each of which had a different acoustic character, were used as natural echo chambers. Kubin and the composer Burkhard Friedrich, former member of ensemble Intégrales, provided the musicians with simple graphic scores or basic descriptions of the compositions; all subsequent material was developed on the fly. Kubin was in the mixing room giving instructions and suggestions, while the musicians played and improvised, adding their own ideas to the project.
No artificial reverb or effects were added to the recordings. The different types of rooms and microphones, noises inside and outside of the studio, as well as the unusual interrelationship between the physically isolated players became part of the process. All the tracks were recorded in one take without any additional layers or track-by-track recordings. After a five-day recording session Kubin and Levin created various mixes which Kubin then edited over a period of several months.
The final results mark yet another radical departure from Kubin's trademark Sci-Fi Pop sound, blending the aesthetics of academic contemporary music, film soundtracks and improvised music with a strong focus on room-specific natural acoustics.
Felix Kubin has released highly acclaimed albums on A-Musik, Dekorder and his own Gagarin label. He has recently been featured on the front cover of The Wire magazine, released his first short movie collection, directed several radio plays and is currently finishing the production on his forthcoming Sci-Fi Pop album.
Burkhard Friedrich (born 1962 in Berlin) is a composer of several musictheatres, film music and chamber music, performed by ensemble Intégrales (D), Phoenix Ensemble (CH), The Austrian Ensemble (A) and others, saxophonplayer and improvising musician. He is regularly collaborating with Video-artists and theatrical directors. For further information please go to: www.burkhard-friedrich.com
Ensemble Intégrales was founded by Burkhard Friedrich and Barbara Lüneburg. Their repertoire includes classics by Karlheinz Stockhausen, John Cage, Iannis Xenakis, Alfred Schnittke, Giacinto Scelsi, Steve Reich, Alvin Lucier, György Ligeti, Frederic Rzewski, James Tenney, Morton Feldman, Cornelius Cardew, Mauricio Kagel and new music from China, Austria and the UK.
Tobias Levin is a german producer and engineer. The bands and musicians he has worked with range from pop to avantgarde, including Kammerflimmer Kollektief, Charles Curtis, To Rococo Rot, Tied & Tickled Trio, Christian Naujoks, Christoph Kurzmann & John Butcher, Augsburger Tafelconfect & Lol Coxhill or Kreidler. He is also a founding member of legendary avant pop group Cpt. Kirk &.
Joseph Raglani uses sine/square wave generator, synth, guitar, voice, melodica, flute and electronics on five intriguing and accessible pieces. The engaging tension, emotional depth and narrative sensibility in Of Sirens Born feels similar to watching a film about explorers entering a strange landscape.
Raglani invests this largely instrumental album with enough sweetness to attract people who might usually avoid musical discord. However, the crunch and bite is here and cleverly positioned to satisfy those who welcome dissonance as a kind of exhilarating bliss. As mentioned, the cinematic quality is obvious, and opener "Rivers In" is strongly suggestive of motion or travel. The throbbing synth in the second half of the track is reminiscent of visual blurriness and of images moving in and out of focus. Then, at just over ten minutes "In The Promise of Wood and Water" is the longest track here. Like the entire record it has a slow pace but the contrast, peaks, and development seem like a journey within a journey.
On "Perilous Straits" the atmosphere might be a depiction of a craft floating dangerously close to rocks. The portentous alarming quality of the music is achieved by some thumping percussion and layers of a wailing siren-like racket. The added snap on this track is probably derived from Raglani switching to square wave generator. To give some idea of the sound difference, as I understand it, the visual display on the generator would show square blocks, rather than the flowing 'S' shape of the sine wave. The start of "Washed Ashore" is similarly violent but it is worth sticking with until the melodica comes to the fore and the music subsides into gentle lapping calm. The album's finale is "Jubilee," which flickers between ethereal hiss, bracing distortion, and euphoric multi-layering. The sense of danger, spirituality, excitement and celebration in the track brings to mind scenes unfolding in jungle clearings glimpsed from a boat adrift on a river: joyful nuptials, cannibalism, ritual sacrifice, animals grazing, fire, or a feast. There's also an unintentionally amusing overlap with The Prime Time Sublime Orchestra's A Life in A Day of A Microorganism, specifically the bits where daydreaming "dad" floats off to "an unknown tropical island somewhere deep in the Pacific, shipwrecked without contact to the outside world, he's the only man floating on a white fluffy cloud surrounded by young and nubile half-naked female natives who pamper him and tend to his most animalistic needs...".
Joseph Raglani has been active in St Louis for several years releasing CDRs and vinyl. He gets the balance right on Of Sirens Born, shows a lot of promise, and lives up to the accompanying praise from Keith Fullerton Whitman. This release is more exciting than ambient, indeed at times he almost conjures a ghostly sonic apparition of the more thrilling sections of The Faust Tapes. Raglani has more strings to his bow, too, for example there’s a delightfully spaced-out version of Big Star's "I'm In Love with a Girl" on his MySpace page.
The Dots are as focused and as diverse a group as I can name. For over 25 years they've been releasing record after record of bizarre and colorful music. Even with such a voluminous catalog behind them, their output remains completely unique and peerless. Plutonium Blonde is a trance-like, somewhat awkward record that meshes their eccentric pop sensibilities with dark, aggressive machine music.
From the start it is obvious that this record is a move away from the jam-band tendencies that have popped up in the Dots' music over the past couple of records. The album opener, "Torch Song," is an aggressive and concise electronic nightmare that thrives on synthesized beats and cascades of blurry keyboard effects. There are guitars on this record, but they take a back seat to the electronic errata conjured up by The Silverman and Edward Ka-Spel. The emphasis on computerized music isn't just a stylistic turn for the band, but a natural continuation of the themes that run through Ka-Spel's lyrics. From the '50s era model on the cover, the cracked mirror she's holding, and the truncated image of a mushroom cloud inside of the booklet, to the themes of paranoia, isolation, and distress in the song's words, it is clear that technology and its effect on mankind is a central theme on the record. When the odd guitar or errant flute emerges from the flux of noise, drone, and found sounds that populate the majority of these songs, they bring a good deal of comfort and relief. Whether or not that relief is necessary is something worth considering, however.
Some of the songs on Plutonium Blonde feature an approach to songcraft that fans of the Chemical Playschool series will be happy to hear. Stuttering tape collages, dark synth pads, organic burps, and quiet percussive elements swim by beneath Ka-Spel's narratives on both "An Arm and a Leg" and "Oceans Blue." The intensity and creepiness of the vocals harmonize with the brooding haziness of the instrumentation creating a strong synthesis of abstract, psychedelic sound and conventional song-writing. Both "Torchsong" and "Rainbows Too?" favor a semi-melodic, direct approach to creating atmosphere, but are also the first two songs on the album. Plutonium Blonde thus feels like a slow descent into unfamiliar waters, one that ends up with the crushing woe of "Cubic Caesar." The song begins with a biting quip: "My learning curve was so acute it formed a perfect circle / My whole wide world was virtual so I sank back in my shell." From there Ka-Spel utilizes a combination of dry, phone-like tones and half-dead, choking keyboards to spin a tale of slowly atrophying ideas and feelings. Martijn De Kleer's guitar work is most successfully worked into mix on this song; he draws a blues-like desolation out of his strings that emphasize the loneliness present in Ka-Spel's lyrics. The song reaches a climax as Ka-Spel muses over the safety of virtual reality: "I know that far away exists mysterious adventures / A life beyond / Uncensored where there's nothing guaranteed / It's not for me / Oh I'll live with it."
My only complaints about this outing revolve around a pair of songs that interrupt the slow descent I described earlier. While "A World with No Mirrors" and "My First Zonee" draw their lifeblood from the same topics found in all the other songs, the musical aesthetic on both are so different from everything else on the record that they seem almost entirely out of place. "A World with No Mirrors" is composed of acoustic guitar and flute and sounds pastoral despite its nocturnal and ambient ending. "My First Zonee" is, on the other hand, a jaunty piece that only emphasizes how difficult it is to use a saxophone on a rock record and not come away sounding cheesy. Were these two songs removed or replaced, the album might be exceedingly bleak and somber. Yet, I find myself wanting to skip past both in order to get to the meat of the record. "Faded Photograph" manages to lighten the mood without breaking the album's continuity and so both the aforementioned songs seem just a bit superfluous. That being said, both songs stand well on their own and are nowhere near distracting enough to ruin the record. I suppose I'm simply more endeared to Ka-Spel's darker creations, which is why Plutonium Blonde keeps me coming back. It is twisted, dark, and filled with a multitude of musical approaches that few (if any) other musicians have ever even thought of blending.
As well as releasing some of the most important and exciting music of the 20th and 21st centuries, Sub Rosa have also acted as archivists when it comes to recordings of important non-musical artists. Previous releases from their aural documents wing include fantastic recordings by Marcel Duchamp, James Joyce, W.S. Burroughs and a series of recordings covering avant garde art in Belgium over the course of the 20th century. This third volume in this Belgian art series covers the main movers and shakers of Belgian contemporary art from just before the Second World War up to the late 1970s. Overall it is a valuable but flawed document that needs more supplemental material to be fully of use to the public and academia at large.
On one hand this CD offers another treasure trove of primary audio documentation of the Belgian avant garde in the mid 20th century but on the other hand it is also a bit of a wasted opportunity. What could have been a brilliant archival document feels like an unfinished project. Granted all the audio here is mostly well preserved (albeit with the odd bit of distortion due to age) but also enlightening. However, for anyone not fluent in French, much of the material will be lost on them. I cannot understand why the usually thorough Sub Rosa did not include a transcription of the interviews and recitations (even as a PDF file on the CD to save on printing a book). I would not consider my French to be awful but I struggled to glean much information from this collection, having translations or even the just the French text available to read while listening would have made things far easier.
That said, the sleeve notes included offer a brief historical and biographical overview of the protagonists. In addition, there is also included a more personal essay on these Belgian artists by Sub Rosa’s own Guy Marc Hinant which is enchanting in its enthusiasm. While I would be familiar with Magritte but not so much with these artists, this sort of passionate introduction to them has definitely piqued my interest in them. Having been exposed to the CoBrA school briefly while on trips around Europe, this is my first real encounter with any of the artists outside of an exhibition. Listening to them speaking, even if mostly incomprehensible, provides a foothold for further exploration of their works. So even if this archive is not a full success in terms of a comprehensive document, it is certainly a success in terms of highlighting these not exactly obscure but often overlooked artists (from a view outside academia).
How useful Le Groupe Surréaliste Révolutionnaire, Dotremont et Broodthaers is to a listener depends on how into art they are. The recordings themselves hold little aesthetic value unlike say James Joyce's readings of his text or Kurt Schwitter's "Ursonate." Without the necessary French skills, even the more playful recordings here are too dry to listen to just for the sake of listening. For the art scholar, these are insightful conversations in the voices of those who were making things happen.
Visual artist Jesse Pep'er, whose hallucinatory artwork adorns the covers of albums by the likes of Edward Ka-spel, Maëror Tri, and Kenji Siratori, finds inspiration in similar territory for his debut album. While not every song evokes the same majestic grotesquerie as his paintings, the best tracks are every bit as otherworldly on this solid, if a bit uneven, album.
The album starts a little slow, and the lurid titles make the opening tracks sound more interesting than they actually are. "Carniverous Butterflies" consists of some plodding ring modulations with faint reverb and feedback that never quite develops into anything compelling. "Cemetery Scoundrels" is better, having beats, a light but engaging melody, and the addition of new layers as it progresses, but its main thrust doesn't really change enough. Pep'er's ideas finally start opening up with "Red Parasites of the Black Pig," which is more structurally complex with the addition of beats and sequences even if it goes on a bit longer than necessary. Yet the brief "Undercurrent Dreamspell" is a fairly inconsequential track that uses a slight loop as its foundation over with alternating layers of fuzzy electronics and synth washes.
However, the album gets stronger as it rolls along. "Nightside of Eden" builds suspense with what could be the gasps and sighs of a distant marching goblin army that later erupts in harsh blows. Pep'er uses ghostly moans, digital feedback, and mutilated voices to haunting effect on "Sea Stars Conjuration," while he shows a more playful side with light bass, a jazz-like high hat, and snapping fingers on his nod to Twin Peaks, "Black Lodge Lounge." Both "Bone Oubiette" and "Whispers of the Black Dog" seem to have alien origins, with the former utilizing harsh electronics and reptilian voices while the latter has a stabbing bass loop, electronic hiss, and warped voices.
What lifts Autophagia from its slow start is that it ends with a string of particularly good tracks. "Moon Jellies from Mars" is one of album's most successfully complex tracks with distant beats and wind-up melodies that evolve into a truly captivating experience. Equally good is "Serpent Breath," which uses hypnotic beats but also incorporates manipulated voices coming through layers of radio frequencies and static. The album ends with the galactic melodies of "The Owls Are Not What They Seem" and the distorted beats of the brief but effective "Scarab."
The album would have benefited from a sizable trim of its running time of nearly 77 minutes because it does have a fair share of filler. Even so, the best tracks match Pep'er's visionary artwork, originating in a dream-like realm all his own.
The latest from Poland's Mort Douce is named after a poem by John Siddique. Given the title, I expected to be besieged with insect chittering or else the maddening rush of descending swarms. Instead, the sounds are almost geological, like dropping a microphone into the center of the Earth and amplifying minute tectonic shifts, documenting the secret life of continents.
What first struck me when listening to this album was how it evokes an epic sense of space. "Dream of Better Days" begins with what could be the industrial clatter of a steel refinery reverberating in vast halls of feedback and suffering a slow death. "Beneath the Flesh" could be a geologic gasp, like a crumbling ice shelf, and "All Stripped Down" evokes larges bodies of colliding minerals. Things get more cosmic with "A Flash Flood in the Night," which evokes the radar blips of a moon landing while debris bounces off of a vessel in low gravity as faint bits of melody are drowned in gaseous swirls. The brief "Sun in My Hand" continues the outer space vibe, as if howling interstellar wind is stressing the metal of an orbiting satellite.
The album's only misstep is "Coarse State of Saturn." It starts with rasping, swirling sounds and deep tones that are soon overwhelmed, if not hijacked outright, by a wearisome high pitch that induces headaches and makes dogs howl. Unfortunately, this annoying high pitch overpowers and obscures most of everything else occurring on the track, which is otherwise dense with activity. Still, it's only one track of six and doesn't spoil the album's stronger material.
Succinct and deliberate, Locust Dreams makes its point without any unnecessary fluff or padding. A definite step forward, it's easily the best thing I've heard yet from Mort Douce.
Using mostly guitar, Martin Kränzel explores foreboding vistas on his latest album as Wicked Messenger. He makes the instrument almost unrecognizable in his depiction of gathering darkness and thunderous portent. Heavy and chilling, these five tracks do an excellent job of sustaining a mythology of dread.
"I" begins the album with a vast, cavernous gasp and quiet demonic communication hinting at the abyss, surrounded by the moans of dusty fallen angels. The music burrows into a black hole, slowing time and twisting it mercilessly, gathering momentum in its destruction. The rocky movement of thunderclouds forms much of "II," aided by a slow incantation and the screeching wails of thwarted steel. "III" starts with electric rustling from a high voltage field that's soon overtaken by a carnivorous maw and the yawns of a blind megalithic god awakening from slumbering darkness. Gaseous forms coalesce into sentience in "V" as a patient blacksmith toils in the background. The only track that seems a little out of place if only because its brevity and subdued atmosphere is "IV," which seems to heighten expectations for an arrival or the dawning of something that never happens. Yet this track isn't bad, merely different, and doesn't subtract from the album's enjoyment in the slightest.
Music with such malevolent droning ambience is often easy for musicians to create but fairly difficult to do well, which makes Black Tourmaline one of the rare exceptional works in this crowded field.
On this album, C.db.sn (aka Chase Dobson) makes beat-driven electronic music named after a variety of sea creatures like moral eels, anemone, and jellyfish. It's an appropriate theme, for this music, like the ocean, simultaneously soothes and invigorates a restless mind. While some of it may seem a little straightforward, Dobson adds enough emotional textures to keep the songs both absorbing and refreshing.
Dobson has a great ear for this material and adds new elements in all the right places, such as the light, shimmering effects that presage a heartbeat rhythm on "Gymnothorax Fimbriatus" or the subtle distorted textures fleshing out what would otherwise be standard electronics on "Crossota Norvegica." With "Somniosus Microcephalus," he confirms the deep sea vibe with its languid pace and rich electronic washes. Bass takes on more prominence on "Pachycerianthius Fimbriatus," and the track also has strange amphibian blurts and hints of distortion at the edges. I was less enthralled with the opening track, "Nereis Sandersi," a collaboration with Jason Filippini, because I'm not terribly enthusiastic about glitch music in general, but Dobson's deep piano tones provide an adequate counterbalance.
I can't argue that this album is particularly groundbreaking, but it is so well executed that that's not really a factor. Into the Deep is a thoroughly energizing and immersing album.
This Portland, Oregon group is probably my current favorite instrumental rock act (basically ever since Battles got all goofy). I've loved all the live shows I've seen and of all their releases on Neurot, Temporary Residence, Important, and Latitude, this, their first release of 2008, is easily my top pick. Here, the group utilize their arsenal of gear and found sounds to showcase their matured compositional skills, exploit some fine riffs, and weave songs together with sounds to make a seamless and blissful 32+ minute record.
The group has been perfecting a formula since 2003: heavily influenced by Sun City Girls as well as the classic hard rock and metal forefathers yet open-minded enough to introduce samples, atmospherics, grand anthemic sounds, and non-western scales and themes into the mix. The sound is big, immense, and vast: I'm always discovering new bits and pieces I hadn't noticed before. With Take Refuge in Clean Living they not only have managed to make it all feel natural and flow amazingly well, but they have authored some of their best songs.
I get more of a feeling of Funkadelic's lengthy endeavors (songs like "Maggot Brain," "Free Your Mind,...") than any Black Sabbath tune on "Stoned at the Taj Again," as it opens with morse code, a swirling guitar melody, a wash of noises, and the audio decor of a hammer dulcimer until the drums crash in. It's a wonderful rush. Things mellow out and a sitar-mimicing guitar takes the focus until the pace picks up again before a seguay into "PTSD," a tune using a similar formula of ingredients and adding an analog synth. Here they keep the pace far more subdued, yet it's still just as sexy, with the calm of crickets leading into their creepy harpsichord-accented graveyard-esque cover of the Ventures' "11th Hour."
"Take Refuge" is a moderately-paced jam with a harpsichord drone providing the foundation for a wonderful guitar play of two guitars taking the lead while the drummer makes his presence clearly known. Focus shifts to an organ providing the drone for the second half of the tune, and while the guitars and drums back off to clear the path for it, the song never loses a beat, coming back in full force with horns, vibes, and a bass line that takes charge. "Clean Living" closes the disc out gracefully using a pretty piano melody, colored by strings, distortion, and grand echoes, making the most delicate melody on the album sound just as huge as the heavy riffage from earlier on.
It's too easy to talk about a formula; critically, however, it's difficult to describe how a song makes an impression, aesthetically. All of the music here is challenging yet captivating, skilled yet sexy, dense and rich, and while the songs are lengthy, it all goes by too quickly.
While Grails' second release of the year isn't a mis-step, I simply don't find that I'm captivated by the melodies contained herein. For the second time this year the group have produced a 30+ minute long collection of pieces of epic magnitude, however, I'm often left waiting for songs to develop, and then let down as some of these pieces seem like incomplete thoughts when compared to the previous release.
Grails once again open and close songs with sound effects. "Doomsdayer's Holiday" launches the disc with banshee like screams in the distance and a rumble before the bombastic drums blast in. Twin guitars riff like an '80s metal record but the tune doesn't go far and dies a rather quick death, fading out sharply before developing into anything substantial. It sets the tone for the release as there's a lot of other 3-5 minute pieces on the disc which don't seem to end naturally. Even with the eastern samples of "Reincarnation Blues," the bombast seems much more westernized and the tune is unexcitingly rather monotone.
The pace remains constantly slow for the most part without the exciting peaks they're quite capable of achieving. It almost sounds lazy how they choose to spend time more in freakout parts in a song like "Immediate Mate" and quiet lulls in "X-Contaminations" than consciously work on a memorable driving melody. Other tunes like "The Natural Man" and "Acid Rain" would seem great on paper—incorporating a wide array of instruments like flute, vibes, piano, and dulcimer on the former and vocals and analog synths on the latter—but once again the melodic structure seems to be meandering and unchallenging. The latter, the album's closer, is a bit too '70s adult contemporary "safe territory" for my tastes, and is probably what leaves me with such a funny taste in my mouth when the record is over.
Any other group might have created a full album of 12 pieces, totalling just over 60 minutes, but Grails chose to give this 37+ minute long release to Temporary Residence, and, in turn, preserve the purity of Take Refuge in Clean Living. I'm thankful for that as while I can respect Doomsdayer's Holiday and know that somewhere some kids are getting completely baked and listening, I'll keep going back to Take Refuge.
After having explored the experimental possibilities inherent in the grand piano on his 1986 album Notturno, Tietchens visited the human voice on the 1988 follow up Aus Freude Am Elend. On it, this musical innovator raids recordings of religious ecstatics, people shouting and making love, people singing, and others, using these ‘stolen’ voices to create new frameworks, decontextualised and deconstructed, and in the process rendering the human voice as richly complex an instrument as any woodwind or stringed example. Under Tietchens' analytical gaze and craftsmanlike manipulation, we are left with something that is at once familiar and exotically alien, a veritable menagerie of species paraded before the gaze and designed to both appal and enthral equally.
The practice and techniques of plunderphonics were nothing new, even back then in the late '80a. The genre had been around since early in the same decade, but never one to sit back and regurgitate what had gone before, Tietchens’ mission was (and still is) constantly to challenge ideas about what music is and could be, even new ones. Consequently (and make no mistake about this), this is one of the most challenging and difficult works so far released in the Die Stadt reissue series of his works. Unlike previous albums, there is very little in the way of recognizable music; instead it’s all created using loops alongside both treated and untreated voices. At one and the same time, there’s a mixture of the warm and natural along with the cold and clinical, as well as a sense that the music is both pleasantly inviting and yet simultaneously repellent.
Surprisingly for what some would see as fairly sterile and intellectual music, perhaps, these tracks elicit quite a broad range of reactions. “Den Stiftsherren,” for starters, is formed from a piece of choral singing but here it’s been imbued with a disturbing air of soiled holiness, the slightly atonal configuration of the singing often jarring and more than disconcerting. It is as if the constant warring of good and evil is fighting for the very soul of the piece. A more ritualistic and decidedly tribally pagan piece cheekily follows on from that in “Negus,” a driving rhythm propelling wordless shouts and grunts, lending it a somewhat purer spiritual primitivism to it that is positively uplifting. To my mind, the juxtaposition of these two tracks hardly seems coincidental, as it seems the philosophical contrast between them is deliberately being pointed up—on the one hand corrupted sanctity and on the other unspoilt spirituality.
As a further example, the track called “Rosenkranz” follows a similar tack, the difference here I felt being that the argument was more to do with ‘primitive’ vs. ‘modern.’ Unaccompanied childlike singing voices, signalling the untouched world, eventually get tainted by the sphere of modern technology, as the piece alternates between untreated and treated voices. Those pure unpolluted tones turn into nasty, clanky, mechanically buzzing electronic insects, a sure metaphor for the slow degradation of so-called ‘primitive’ societies that technology inevitably brings along in its wake.
This, for me, is the soul of the album, the dichotomies and tensions thrown up by the natural versus the modern, and maybe by extension the clash of civilisations and peoples. As never before at any time in history, such tensions and divisions are boiling to the surface. Indeed, as I was listening to this, a whole raft of ideas occurred to me as to what meaning it all held. The plain truth is probably that it has no meaning other than what people bring to it, but it certainly sparked off ideas of opposition, the tension between systems, whether technological, social, or political. The very nature of the material being used and its treatment suggests those frictions and contradictions inherent in every aspect of life and society. The very fact that this album was created two decades ago emphasises its timelessness in that respect. Out of all the albums recorded by Tietchens that I have heard, this has probably been the most rewarding, both intellectually and musically. Apart from any other consideration, it just goes to show how innovative and forward-thinking this artist was, and continues to be even today.