In brief
03.01.2022

Techno i tyske skove

GAS: »Der Lange Marsch«
© GAS
© GAS

Denne vinter er den tyske technoproducer Wolfgang Voigts stedsegrønne diskografi vokset – igen med repetitiv, dronende ambient techno. Men Der Lange Marsch er også besynderligt selvreferentielt. Det er et album, der i høj grad gør brug af musik samplet fra egne tidligere udgivelser, som Voigt har remixet og her præsenterer i nye sammenhænge. 

Har man, som jeg, lyttet uendeligt meget til GAS’ ældre udspil, vil man bemærke lånene. Hvis ikke, så gør det rent musikalsk ikke den store forskel. Voigts styrke er at skabe noget langsommeligt majestætisk ud af meget få virkemidler. Stryger- og blæsersamples strakt til nær uigenkendelighed. En blød, tung 4/4 stortromme, der lyder som hjerteslag. En konstant knitren som ild i tørt græs. Projektet GAS har altid haft de vældige tyske skove som tematisk omdrejningspunkt, og i de øjeblikke, hvor din hjerne og musikken synkroniserer, kan du virkelig høre det. Visheden om, at alt omkring dig er levende og i konstant bevægelse, også selvom du ikke kan se det.

Men noget har alligevel ændret sig. Dette album indeholder mere dramatik end dets forgængere. Der sker mere. Alting bevæger sig mærkbart hurtigere. Omkring halvvejs igennem spilletiden bliver det tiltagende trippet, endda uhyggeligt. Lyden presser sig ind fra begge sider, føles klaustrofobisk. Og stilner så af igen.

Voigt lader til at foretrække nidkære udviklinger frem for konstante nybegyndelser. I den forstand er Der Lange Marsch intet nyt, men en uhyre interessant rekontekstualisering af en af ambient technos stærkeste diskografier.

Bjarke Niemann. © Frederik Barasinski

»Music is everything that can only be described far more poorly with words.«

Bjarke Niemann is the lead singer, songwriter, and producer of the Danish band Spleen United. The group broke through with Godspeed Into The Mainstream in 2005 and has performed at, among other places, Roskilde Festival and the Copenhagen Opera House. Bjarke Niemann has also composed and developed music for TV and video games – including the international game series Hitman – and has produced albums with artists such as Soleima, Statisk, Afskum, and Hugorm.

© Motis Necrojam

»Music is the pursuit of original failure...« 

Motis Necrojam is the singer and collager with the Noseflutes and The Clicking Stick, a pair of combos from the old English Birmingham times, adorned with new-times dedication to derailment, approved by Sir John Peel, via their four live sessions for his mighty BBC Radio programme, occasional treaders of the boards, musicians with alias obsessions. One thing Necrojam has is a digit on the diminishing pulse. 

Katrine Muff. © Ditte Capion

»Music, to me, is the key to – and an extension of – my vocabulary. If I struggle to put ‘spoken words’ to something inside, or if I need release in the form of a proper cry, the right song can put me in the right gear immediately. It can be the lyrics, the melody, or both that give direct access to my emotions, where the brain can simply be put into neutral and carried away.«

Katrine Muff, born in 1985, is a composer and singer. She has set music to texts by, among others, Stine Pilgaard and Suzanne Brøgger, and in 2021 she received the Folk Song Prize (Den Folkelige Sangs Pris). Together with Lone Hørslev, she is currently releasing the album Jeg ønsker mig and working as a songwriter on the theatre concert STOLT (Folketeateret).

In brieflive
04.10

Soap Horse Kept a Tight Rein – Maybe Too Tight

Soap Horse + K Bech
Soap Horse. © Malthe Folke Ivarsson
Soap Horse. © Malthe Folke Ivarsson

K Bech – known from the rock band Shiny Darkly – opened Saturday night’s concert at Alice with a raw, unpolished melancholy. A sense of Copenhagen-style urban gloom was palpable, yet the slightly nervous set never really took off. Despite a promising setup of violin, guitar, and electronic tracks, the sensitive lyrics remained more hints than breakthroughs.

Soap Horse then took the stage and truly ignited the evening with an authentic chicken-picking riff. The country-rooted guitar technique was just one example of the musical abundance running through the band, which has just released its debut EP Tooth Inside a Tooth.

Nothing seemed accidental. From the rust-red gothic tapestry to the carefully chosen instrumentation – violin, saxophone, and pedal steel alongside guitar, bass, and drums – every detail added to a deliberate aesthetic. The sound was dark and alluring, in sharp contrast to frontman Hans Gustav Björklund Moulvad’s shock of white hair and intense stage presence.

The songs were crafted with a refined sense of balance. Simple, repetitive motifs were passed between the instruments, and when massive noise walls and shimmering colors broke through, the already blurred borders of indie rock stretched even further. Moulvad commanded the whole with ease, moving charismatically between the music’s many layers. And yet, I found myself wishing Soap Horse would let go completely. The weightless intermezzos – where the unusual lineup could have truly unfolded – were too often pulled back by a steady drumbeat, returning the music to a safe ground. Soap Horse displayed remarkable control and a firm grasp of both their sonic universe and their audience. Perhaps all that’s left is to prove they dare to loosen their grip.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

© PR

Illiyeen is visual artist Eliyah Mesayer’s fictional state for the stateless, a group to which the artist herself belonged until just a few years ago. Since 2019, she has continuously added national symbols in Illiyeen’s characteristic black color, and today the state has its own postal service, national anthem, uniform, navy – and a steadily expanding list of collaborators.

It’s a clever concept, at once tightly defined and completely open. Because the state is nomadic and collective, it can arise anywhere and include a wider circle of like-minded artists, such as Angel Wei from Haloplus+ and the poet Zahna Siham Benamour. It is a state of mind.

At Den Frie, it was the drum duo Thicket – Adam »CCsquele« Nielsen and Dan Kjær Nielsen – who performed from opposite sides of a split drum kit. Through an improvised drum solo so energetic that drumsticks flew through the air, they explored the shared rhythm that emerged, broke apart, and shifted character along the way. A fitting symbol of Illiyeen’s community: a constant negotiation and coordination of tempo and movement.

Along the way, the toms gave way to a recorded sound piece, a spherical electronic composition with subdued spoken word woven into the soundscape. The work originated from an earlier installation but was extended for the occasion, with added acoustic elements recorded by Cæcilie Trier and Xenia Xamanek. It carried a mournful, sensitive vibe that stood in sharp contrast to the thundering intensity of the drums. Mesayer’s poetic, black-clad universe and Thicket’s simultaneously tight and improvisational energy bursts blended perfectly into a community one longed to be part of.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielzcarek