© Rene Passet
© Rene Passet

Der manglede næsten bare et yippie ki-yay fra William Basinski, da han indtog Copenhagen Distillery som en del af turnéen The Last Symphony. »Buckle up bitches«, lød det så action-råt, at man et øjeblik troede, det var Bruce Willis på scenen. Basinskis medrivende superstjernekarisma er den perfekte modsætning til hans smuldrende og selvoverdragende ambientmusik. 

Koncerten var forfriskende langt fra det udstrakte fordybelsesrum, jeg forbinder med Basinskis indspillede værker. Hans berømte serie The Disintegration Loops (2002-2003), hvor båndsløjfernes dødelige verden krakelerer i slowmotion, var emblematisk for de bekymringer mange havde omkring årtusindeskiftet: Var uendeligheden i den fagre nye digitale verden faktisk begyndelsen på enden? Som ingen anden formår Basinski at lade spørgsmålet om teknologisk determinisme klinge åbent i sin musik: de patinerede båndoptagelser rummer intet svar, men derimod en nysgerrig tilstand, hvor gentagelse og forgængelighed stopper med at trække i tidsfornemmelsen fra hver sin side og i stedet slutter kreds. 

Det var fascinerende at opleve den måde, hvorpå Basinski bearbejdede sine loops. Hver gang han satte en ny lyd i rotation, virkede det, som om det var hans første møde med den. Hurtigt opstod der et sugende felt af rumklang og feedback, som dannede en sfære for båndsløjfernes omløbsbaner. Den analoge lyd gnaskede somme tider i musikken med sine små klip og kværnende komprimering. 

Afstanden mellem de ambiente terræner var kort og koncerten, der blev efterfulgt af to ekstranumre, var mere collagepræget end den ødemark, Basinski normalt maler. Særligt indtagende var landskabet, da et sekstonet motiv fortærede sig selv i rumklang og gav plads til, hvad der lød som arabisk ornamenteret sang. Transcendensen fandt Basinski i de høje frekvenser, og da han på et tidspunkt strakte en lys vokalklang ud over det grumsede båndmiljø, forsvandt grænsen mellem himmel og jord. Det var ubegribeligt smukt at høre, hvordan vokalen vågede som en strålende guddom over den profane båndoptagede verden. 

© PR

»Music is my life. It has accompanied me all the way and given me experiences, friendships and opportunities that I could never have imagined.«

Pablo Fernández is a Spanish musician and the new Head of Classical Music at the Royal Academy of Music, Aarhus/Aalborg. For many years, he was principal tuba player with the Barcelona Symphony Orchestra and has taught at higher music education institutions in Spain and Denmark. He is also active as a conductor, soloist, guest lecturer and jury member at international competitions. Fernández has extensive experience in the management and development of music projects, festivals and international collaborations. He has lived in Aarhus since 2014 and has been affiliated with the Royal Academy of Music since 2021.

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»Music is, to us, a kind of closed club of nepotism, networking and Copenhagen cowboy energy. But in reality, it’s got nothing to do with expensive guitars or technical skill. For us, music is something you can feel in your chest, or something that gives you goosebumps. The best concerts are when someone screams so earnestly that the rest of us don’t have to. The best music expresses emotions in a way that would get you picked up by an ambulance if you did it out on the street. For us, music should fuck with the people who have it too comfortable, and give those who have it fucked a feeling that they’re not alone. Boom. And what the fuck is a chord and a key anyway? Kisses from Nightmaries.«

Nightmaries blend saws, guitars and voices into a dark-country, no-wave, cowboy-doom nightmare. They create the kind of soundtrack that feels like a fever dream you somehow don’t want to wake up from. As the world gets stranger and darker, Nightmaries lean into the madness, serving up slow-burning songs that creep under your skin like a poison that takes its sweet time. Put on your favourite steel-toe boots, dip your smoky eyes in an ashtray, and prepare yourself for sloppy doom with punk energy.

© PR

»To me, music is love. I love how music allows you to skip the small talk and connect directly with people’s innermost selves. It is an extraordinary and moving way to meet one another.«

Fenja wrote her first song at the age of twelve – about a polar bear dying due to climate change – and themes of existentialism, nature, and her own sensitive nature came to define the lyrics and sound she has since developed. She released her debut album, Flugtdyr, in 2021, and in February 2026, she released the album Menneskedyr.

© PR
© PR

Danish composer Sofus Forsberg has died at the age of 56. With his distinctive blend of melodic sensibility, electronic processing and rhythmic precision, he created a musical world that moved effortlessly between IDM, pop and the avant-garde.

© Simon Weyhe

»Music for me is my hobby, my job, my outlet, my mood, an endless source of discovering new music and new, old music, some of the best and can be some of the worst. And I love it!« 

Track72 aka Tue Track aka Anders Lundby Brixen. Producer, DJ, rapper and more. Known for his role in the trio Malk De Koijn, which since the mid-1990s has created a personal universe in Danish hip-hop. Has performed in Ponyblod, Xtra Naan, Track Abdullah Rock, Booty Cologne and others.